Chris Churchill
Maurice Rucker happy in his new job after Home Depot.
Nothing I wrote last year generated as much attention, or anger, as the columns about what happened to Maurice Rucker. Rucker was an employee at the Home Depot on Central Avenue. On a day in July, he encountered an unpleasant (to put it mildly) customer, who was standing in Rucker’s line in the Albany store’s garden center. I hate to repeat it all again, but the man called Rucker slow, said he owed his job to Donald Trump and hit him with an additional string of ugly insults.
“You’re from the ghetto,” the man said, who was white.
Rucker, who is black, eventually left his booth, got in the man’s face and told him to leave the store. Five days later, Rucker was fired.
If I’m remembering correctly, I heard about Rucker’s experience from an acquaintance of his. I initially figured there had to be more to the story, but there wasn’t. A Home Depot spokesman at corporate headquarters said the company was appalled by the customer’s behavior but defended the firing because Rucker
had violated protocol.
Rucker had worked for Home Depot for 10 years.
“Firing a man for defending himself seems unfair,” Rucker told me then. “I’m a black man, and I have dealt with all levels of racism all my life. I am not going to accept racist behavior at work, home, the streets or anyplace else.”
Many of you agreed that Rucker had been poorly treated. In fact, the story just about exploded on the internet, with Rucker receiving messages of support from around the world.
Home Depot backtracked and offered
Rucker his job back. He declined to return.
Rucker, a visual artist and lead singer for the country-rock-soul band Mozz, was widely known before the column ran. Everyone who I spoke to described him as a gentleman — and a gentle giant. (He’s a big guy.) Nobody believed he deserved to be fired.
After the column ran, I heard from a frequent Home Depot customer who purposely chose to line up at Rucker’s register, because he enjoyed interacting with him. I heard from a parent who appreciated how Rucker, who ran the store’s workshops for kids, had handled their child’s birthday party.
And this is the guy the store decided to fire?
I knew, as I was writing the column, that it was going to resonate. I knew people would be angry at the company’s decision. I still underestimated the reaction. Rucker seemed surprised by all the attention, too.
A few days ago, I asked Rucker, who is 61, if he had any idea why his story moved so many people. It wasn’t about him, Rucker said. It was about disgust with declining civility in what he called the “age of Trump” and a growing willingness to say anything at all.
I agree that was part of it, as was people’s anger at the simple injustice of it all. But there was also, in many of the emails I received, frequent criticism of how so many employees are being treated by the global economy and the big corporations that increasingly control it.
Many readers focused on how Rucker’s salary increased by just 78 cents — from $12 to $12.78 an hour — during a decade with the company. That small increase was partly because Rucker had started at a higher-paid store in the Boston area and took a pay cut when he transferred. Still, it’s remarkable that his pay didn’t even keep up with the rate of inflation.
It’s water under the bridge now, at least for Rucker.
After the publicity, several employers reached
out to interview him, including Albany County Executive Daniel Mccoy, who had a position open in the probation department. That’s the job Rucker ultimately took.
On a recent morning, I visited him in his South Pearl Street office, where he spends his days trying to place recent parolees in open jobs. Some have little experience in the working world, but Rucker guides them through the process and prepares them with
Many readers focused on how Rucker’s salary increased by just 78 cents — from $12 to $12.78 an hour — during a decade with the company.
interviews.
In short, he helps the parolees get a new start. It’s satisfying and important work. Plus, the hours are regular.
“Maurice is just what we needed,” said Mike O’connor, his supervisor, who echoed what so many others said by describing Rucker as a kind gentleman. “I got lucky on this one,” O’connor added.
In his early days on the job, Rucker sensed that some of his co-workers were wary of him, fearing his hiring was more about political optics than merit. But Rucker earned trust and won his co-workers over. He looks back at the confrontation and his firing as a fortuitous turning point, albeit a terribly unpleasant one.
“It couldn’t have worked out any better,” Rucker told me. “I’m happy here.”