Consider this

John Bridges sat quietly in a booth in the Jersey Girl restaurant, a place he’s grown accustomed to over the last few months since his schedule changed. He stared into the bright sunshine coming through the plate glass window, seemingly unaware either of its brilliance or its warmth. He barely noticed the coffee cup his hands were wrapped around. A weighty sadness lingered within him, a feeling he could not shake.

“So many people wandering around aimlessly, so much confusion, “ he thought to himself. “I am one of them. Look at us. We’re out of work, We’ve all lost our jobs and our identities. I've lost my identity. How do I get it back? How do I create a new one?

“When I had a job, I had an identity. I was my title, I had power, I had authority, I had the respect of my peers, my staff and my upper management. I had roles at home, too. I was a parent, I was a spouse, I was a provider, I was a lover.

“Now, without a job I am not the provider. I no longer have a staff, a position of power or an identity. I wonder where it went, and why. We did nothing wrong. But the job is gone, and I am lost.

“I have a harder time being the parent (sometimes I even behave like a child) and I have difficulty filling the role of spouse. My wife is all these things now. She has the only income, the kids ask her their questions about what they can and cannot have. She does her best to explain that my job is gone but they don’t get it, not really. I am a fixture.I am a house husband. I clean, do laundry and cook frozen dinners. Linda never complains but the kids miss their mother’s cooking, which is now reserved for weekends.”

In life, it’s not what happens, it’s how you deal with it. Millions of people are out of work, in the worst financial crisis since the depression. And people’s responses to this crisis are much the same as then. Some stand by silently while their homes are repossessed. Their children go off to visit relatives for an undefined period. The unknown future is met with pessimism, unlike the optimism that used to invite us forward. We dreamt of brighter futures but no more. What lies ahead scares us, and we are visited by images of calamity.

I repeat, In life, it’s not what happens, it’s how you deal with it. And there are many among us who look the recession in the eye and say, “I choose not to participate.” As you read this, you may find that you can be one of them, that you can regain your confidence and shrug off that illusion from the past, that you were your job. There is hope for you in so many diverse ways, the only way I can make it clear is to share with you examples of others who, facing similar circumstances, made conscious decisions to move ahead to a better life.

Here are some of their stories, in serial fashion over the days and months ahead. We begin with John Hinkle.

John Hinkle moved from New York to Morristown, TN. With monies he borrowed from his grandfather, he opened Hinkle’s Cart of Weenies, a hot dog stand specializing in New York hot dogs, imported from the Bronx.

That’s him on Morris Boulevard, one of the busiest roads in town. Sales vary between $200 and $1,000/day. He sets up shop six days a week from 11:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. Two dollar hot dogs are popular during recessionary times, and they’re in demand in good times. For five dollars, he’ll sell you a book on how he did it, the factors to consider, the equipment he uses and the sources of his products.

Could you do that? Don’t discount the idea. It may not jive with your self image but you’ll like the money – and the hours. And, as it grows and the economy turns around, you can always sell it.

Come back tomorrow, I’ll tell you about Frank. His business went bust, the victim of a Ponzi scheme. He’s teaching people how to make money in the market -- @ $2,000 per person for a week long course.