Father's Job Quotes

Dad was a bus driver, and when he finished work he would repair cars.

My father was a dress cutter, and my mother was a tailoress, so I was brought up to appreciate a good frock.

Let's start off with my father being a mailman.

I was born in St. Louis; I lived there for three weeks and then my father graduated from St. Louis University, so we all got in the car and split. I don't really remember much. I grew up in Connecticut most of my life and then four years in Germany. My father worked for a helicopter company, so we went over there.

I have a different experience. My father was a small-businessman. He worked really hard. He printed drapery fabrics on long tables, where he pulled out those fabrics and he went down with a silkscreen and dumped the paint in and took the squeegee and kept going.

For 50 years my father worked for the railroad.

My - I grew up in - I grew up in public housing. My dad, for most of my life, worked for the post office, which was a terrific job to get because you couldn't lose your job.

I have a lot of great racing memories growing up in Europe as a young boy - playing with car parts on my dad's desk, watching the races on Sunday afternoons to try and spot him on TV, even having the chance to go to Formula 1 races where he was working.

I was on my dad's tour bus when I was super little. My dad did a tour of 'Annie Get Your Gun' when I was really little, and I loved going and seeing him do that.

My dad works for Merrill Lynch so I'm in good hands there.

I grew up in suburban New York City and London, England, where my dad was working.

My father was the captain of a cargo ship. When I was about two years old, we used to sail with him. The crew of his ship would dress me up in fancy dress and make me dance for them. I was a performing monkey!

I got my first trumpet when I was six years old, from Al Hirt. My father was playing in Al Hirt's band at that time.

My father works for Xerox and fixes those gigantic copy machines that are about 10 feet wide.

One of the middle ones in the flock, I was born on July 24, 1857, in the small Jutland town of Fredericia. In 1863, my father was transferred to Randers, another Jutland town, where a year later, at the age of six, I experienced the invasion of the allied Prussian and Austrian armies.

My father worked in currency exchange, and my mother is a businesswoman.

I was brought up on a council estate in the countryside near Stoke Prior in Worcestershire, but I adored visiting the farm where my father worked.

I never went into the mine. But I saw my father and other men coming out, day after day, their faces and bodies covered in soot. It looked very hard and dangerous.

My father was an interpreter for all the Latin American pilots at the naval base. He was very well educated. My mother was a hairdresser who sang every day.

I didn't spend a lot of time with prison guards, but my father was an assistant district attorney for a long time so I was always hearing stories about prisoners and prison guards.