Laid off dad gets a new job after handing out hundreds of resumes to strangers on the street
via Fox 35 Orlando / Twitter

Anyone who's been out of a job knows that filling out applications online can be terribly frustrating. Sometimes, it feels like you're sending your resume into a black hole or straight into a garbage shoot on the other end.

According to Zip Job, around 250 resumes are sent to the average job opening and the most people receive a response to around 10 to 20% of the applications they submit. Someone with a grade-A resume will get a response rate somewhere around 30%.

Patrick Hoagland, a father in Arizona, was laid off of his job at a metal recycling company and it hit his family hard financially.


"I definitely had fear," Hoagland told "Good Morning America." "My wife and I, we don't make a whole lot of money individually. Once I lost my job, everything was put on her."

So, after sending out countless resumes online, he decided to get aggressive in his job search by standing on a street corner, in 110-degree Phoenix heat, and passed out his resume to anyone who would take it.

"I wasn't getting any responses," he said. "I was getting frustrated. It popped into my head, stand on a corner and hold a sign and hand out resumes. At first, I laughed about it...and then it kind of went crazy."

For a few hours a day for three days, he stood on a street corner with a sign that read: "Please take a resume. Laid-off. Looking for a job."

Melissa DiGianfilippo / Facebook

One of the people who accepted a copy of his resume was Melissa DiGianfilippo, the owner of a PR firm. She was so impressed by Hoagland's tenacity, she posted a photo of his resume on Facebook.

"I figured, 'I have a pretty wide network. I'll share on social media,'" DiGianfilippo said.

"I was driving down Camelback Road near my office and spotted this guy, Patrick, on the side of the road with a huge smile on his face in 110-degree heat, with a sign asking people to please take his resume," she wrote. "I love that he was not asking for a handout, just for people to consider him for a job."

Immediately, the job offers poured in by the hundreds to his LinkedIn page. Eventually, he landed a job at Flatline Concrete as a concrete grinder.

"They reached out to me over email phone, and I am glad that they did," he said. "It's my dream job scenario."

"I can't say thank you enough to everybody," Hoagland said. "I had a lot of people who sent messages that weren't necessarily job offers but were well-wishes [saying], 'Good luck in your search.' It was nice to see that.'"

Times are hard for a lot of people these days and there's no assurance that in today's tough job market, Hoagland's strategy will work for everyone. But his story is a great example of how people genuinely want to help those who are down on their luck and are willing to work hard to get back on their feet.

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash
True

Glenda moved to Houston from Ohio just before the pandemic hit. She didn't know that COVID-19-related delays would make it difficult to get her Texas driver's license and apply for unemployment benefits. She quickly found herself in an impossible situation — stranded in a strange place without money for food, gas, or a job to provide what she needed.

Alone, hungry, and scared, Glenda dialed 2-1-1 for help. The person on the other end of the line directed her to the Houston-based nonprofit Bread of Life, founded by St. John's United Methodist pastors Rudy and Juanita Rasmus.

For nearly 30 years, Bread of Life has been at the forefront of HIV/AIDS prevention, eliminating food insecurity, providing permanent housing to formerly homeless individuals and disaster relief.

Glenda sat in her car for 20 minutes outside of the building, trying to muster up the courage to get out and ask for help. She'd never been in this situation before, and she was terrified.

When she finally got out, she encountered Eva Thibaudeau, who happened to be walking down the street at the exact same time. Thibaudeau is the CEO of Temenos CDC, a nonprofit multi-unit housing development also founded by the Rasmuses, with a mission to serve Midtown Houston's homeless population.

Keep Reading Show less

Empathy. Compassion. Heart-to-heart human connection. These qualities of leadership may not be flashy or loud, but they speak volumes when we see them in action.

A clip of Joe Biden is going viral because it reminds us what that kind of leadership looks like. The video shows a key moment at a memorial service for Chris Hixon, the athletic director at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida in 2018. Hixon had attempted to disarm the gunman who went on a shooting spree at the school, killing 17 people—including Hixon—and injuring 17 more.

Biden asked who Hixon's parents were as the clip begins, and is directed to his right. Hixon's wife introduces herself, and Biden says, "God love you." As he starts to walk away, a voice off-camera says something and Biden immediately turns around. The voice came from Hixon's son, Corey, and the moments that followed are what have people feeling all their feelings.

Keep Reading Show less
Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash
True

Glenda moved to Houston from Ohio just before the pandemic hit. She didn't know that COVID-19-related delays would make it difficult to get her Texas driver's license and apply for unemployment benefits. She quickly found herself in an impossible situation — stranded in a strange place without money for food, gas, or a job to provide what she needed.

Alone, hungry, and scared, Glenda dialed 2-1-1 for help. The person on the other end of the line directed her to the Houston-based nonprofit Bread of Life, founded by St. John's United Methodist pastors Rudy and Juanita Rasmus.

For nearly 30 years, Bread of Life has been at the forefront of HIV/AIDS prevention, eliminating food insecurity, providing permanent housing to formerly homeless individuals and disaster relief.

Glenda sat in her car for 20 minutes outside of the building, trying to muster up the courage to get out and ask for help. She'd never been in this situation before, and she was terrified.

When she finally got out, she encountered Eva Thibaudeau, who happened to be walking down the street at the exact same time. Thibaudeau is the CEO of Temenos CDC, a nonprofit multi-unit housing development also founded by the Rasmuses, with a mission to serve Midtown Houston's homeless population.

Keep Reading Show less
via Witty Buttons / Twitter

Back in 2017, when white supremacist Richard Spencer was socked in the face by someone wearing all black at Trump's inauguration, it launched an online debate, "Is it OK to punch a Nazi?"

The essential nature of the debate was whether it was acceptable for people to act violently towards someone with repugnant reviews, even if they were being peaceful. Some suggested people should confront them peacefully by engaging in a debate or at least make them feel uncomfortable being Nazi in public.

Keep Reading Show less

The English language is constantly evolving, and the faster the world changes, the faster our vocabulary changes. Some of us grew up in an age when a "wireless router" would have been assumed to be a power tool, not a way to get your laptop (which wasn't a thing when I was a kid) connected to the internet (which also wasn't a thing when I was a kid, at least not in people's homes).

It's interesting to step back and look at how much has changed just in our own lifetimes, which is why Merriam-Webster's Time Traveler tool is so fun to play with. All you do is choose a year, and it tells you what words first appeared in print that year.

For my birth year, the words "adult-onset diabetes," "playdate," and "ATM" showed up in print for the first time, and yes, that makes me feel ridiculously old.

It's also fun to plug in the years of different people's births to see how their generational differences might impact their perspectives. For example, let's take the birth years of the oldest and youngest members of Congress:

Keep Reading Show less