SPECIAL REPORT: REWRITING THE AMERICAN DREAM: Road to prosperity takes rough detour

Here’s Walle Waters, the erstwhile embodiment of the American Dream.

Steelworker’s son. Military man. College grad. Salesman extraordinaire.

Husband to Debra. Faithful to Jesus. A suburban Everyman.

And victim of an economy that’s obliterating jobs, shredding the middle class and making a mockery of the work-hard, play-straight dictum that promised a comfortable retirement for a job well done.

Walle —- rhymes with golly —- lost his white-collar, frozen-food sales job in Michigan two years ago. No matter, he thought: Debra, a manager with a major Japanese company, had just been promoted. Next stop: Atlanta —- the business capital of the New South.

Walle was certain he’d land another regional sales job. Debra’s salary would cover the mortgage on a five-bedroom dream house near Peachtree City.

Nearly two years later, Walle found a job. In Florida. At half his previous salary.

Debra remains in Atlanta. Until, at least, her job ends this summer.

“We used to be in the upper middle class. Now we’ll be in the lower middle class,” said Walle, 58. “Yogi Berra said it best: ‘The future isn’t what it used to be.’ The whole system is going the wrong way.”

This recession is unlike any other of recent vintage. Before, maybe thousands of factory jobs disappeared or the housing market tanked or banks went belly up. This time, seemingly no industry, or category of worker, is immune. Suffering has been democratized and fear is universal. And it’s only going to get worse.

Everybody knows a Walle. He’s the guy at Starbucks on a Tuesday morning with a laptop and time to kill. Or maybe he’s the older fellow behind the Publix deli counter who never gets your order wrong. Or the parishioner at church you don’t make eye contact with.

In February the unemployment rate for adults age 55 and older was 5.6 percent, the highest since April 1983. Roughly 1.6 million people in that age bracket were jobless, nearly double the number in November 2007.

In the past, laid-off older workers might simply retire with adequate pensions, investments and Social Security. But with retirement accounts disappearing, the Dow flitting around 8000 and houses losing value like punctured balloons, retirement isn’t an option for people like the Waterses.

Walle, with a crescent of gray hair under a bald dome, faces an additional burden. Employers are wary of hiring him, fearing he’s either too old, too expensive or too close to retirement. Debra suggested Walle dye his hair. Angry, he refused.

“Even if people my age find a job, it will be for lower pay,” Walle said. “There’s no way I’ll make up for the financial hit of the last two years. It’s like everything I’ve worked for is down the drain.”

If not for a sister in Florida, who works for the same company, Walle’s job-search futility would’ve risen as his self-esteem plummeted. Debra said the need for Walle to rejoin the workaday world outweighs the loneliness of separation.

The economy sunders families. Three years ago, 3.6 million married Americans (not including separated couples) lived apart from their spouses, according to the U.S. Census Bureau, a number experts say is rising rapidly.

“We don’t have the word divorce in our vocabulary,” Debra said. “We just know we’ll get to the other side and get there together.”

‘This guy’s a master’

Walle’s father, a soldier, met his mother, a Ukrainian, in Munich in the late 1940s. Walle and a sister were raised in East Chicago, Ind.

Nearly four years in the Air Force handling police dogs was followed by a degree from Indiana State University. Walle was soon pitching Planters peanuts and Fleischmann’s margarine across the Midwest.

On a business trip to Louisville, a colleague told Walle about a pretty secretary. A blind date at the Indianapolis 500 time trials ensued. Walle and Debra married in 1987, a second marriage for both.

A good job for Debra with Panasonic Automotive took the Waterses to Detroit. An airport was all Walle needed. The lure of the road, the pizazz of the convention, the art of the deal —- that was Walle’s milieu.

He’d entice buyers to his trade show booth with a deck of cards or shoeshine girls. At Christmas, buyers would get whiskey, their secretaries chocolate. Walle rarely forgot the birthday of a client or his wife.

“He’s got an encyclopedia in his head of where the food industry has gone over the years,” said friend and unemployed salesman Greg Pontillo. “This guy’s a master. You can’t touch him.”

A corporate merger killed Walle’s job in 2007. Debra’s move to Atlanta, though, offered “an opportunity to try something brand new,” Walle said.

“I knew it wouldn’t be overnight, but I didn’t think it’d take that long to find a job,” he added. “But then the economy rolled into a bad way.”

Walle embraced the job search with characteristic brio.

He and Greg would crisscross Atlanta each week to job networking workshops run by churches in Duluth, Kennesaw, Peachtree City and Roswell.

Hours were spent online applying for jobs. Walle sent out 1,000 resumes; he got four interviews. None panned out.

“It’s such a mental, physical and monetary drain,” he said. “The bills don’t know you don’t have a job; they just keep coming.”

Walle sold cars for a south Atlanta dealership but quit after a month because of few sales. He sought part-time work at Kroger and Publix for $9-$10 an hour. He applied to teach in Coweta County schools. Nothing.

Stop signs at open doors

Last summer, after a year of futility and emotional strain, Walle took a break.

He sought solace and a sense of achievement from his church, Heritage Christian in Fayetteville. He volunteered for the car-care ministry. He helped organize an AIDS awareness campaign for Africa. He built homes in Reynosa, Mexico.

Refreshed, Walle rejoined the search in September. A month later, his retina separated. He couldn’t read for six weeks or drive for 12. Greg ferried him to the job networks.

“It was like every door that opened had a stop sign behind it. There was always something holding me back,” Walle said. “But I believed in Jesus. That got me through.”

Debra, meanwhile, had her own problems. Her mother died in August and, about the time Walle’s eye gave out, Panasonic announced it was consolidating her division. If she wanted a job, she’d have to return to Michigan. Walle wasn’t going.

“I know now how it feels when you have total responsibility for everything,” Debra said. “But then, what if I lose my job? You start working through, ‘OK, how bad can it get? Do we have to work at McDonald’s? Get rid of our cars? Live on a bus line?’ Silly things like that.”

In December, Debra had 20 percent of her colon removed. Walle felt helpless. He had to do something, even if it meant leaving Debra, at least temporarily. In late January, Walle loaded up the Oldsmobile with 166,000 miles on it and headed to Florida. He leases apartments to retirees and lives with his sister. He hasn’t seen Debra in eight weeks.

Their house is on the market, but prospects are few. If Debra returns to Michigan, her company will buy the house. But she’ll follow her husband to Florida once —- if —- the house sells.

Debra will get a decent severance package. She and Walle are banking on deflated 401(k)s for their golden years.

She may try real estate in Florida. Or open a restaurant.

Walle says he’ll work another decade. Real estate, though, isn’t the safest bet. Another whirl on the job-search merry-go-round is possible.

“Most people just want to find a job, work, save money and be happy,” Walle said. “But you find out, eventually, that you’re not really in control of anything. I could wake up Monday morning,

ABOUT THE SERIES

It’s the American Dream, and it’s over for legions of metro Atlantans.

They worked hard. Played by the rules. And expected, like generations before, to reap the benefits of jobs well done.

But the Depression-like economy douses many dreams, like those of the 18-year-old from Lithonia postponing college. Or the Suwanee florist edging toward bankruptcy. Or the master carpenter scrounging for jobs he considered beneath him a year ago.

Over the next year, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution will chronicle the lives of a half-dozen victims of the economic morass. Some will founder or fail; others will persevere, even thrive. All will strive to recapture

WHO YOU’LL MEET IN THIS SERIES

SHANEKA WILLIAMS

18, Lithonia

Family: She and her parents, 12-year-old sister and 9-year-old brother live in Lithonia.

Situation: The 2008 Lithonia High School graduate had a scholarship to attend Clark Atlanta University but was unable to go because of financial hardship. She didn’t have money to cover books or gas to get there. Her mom’s out of work, and her dad’s engineering job is uncertain.

What she’s up to: She’s taking online courses through a college closer to her home. Still unable to pay for books, she does a lot of research online. She recently landed a job at a day care center. She got the job through Young People Matter, a 2-year-old work program that helps teenagers find jobs to help their cash-strapped families. She hasn’t given up on Clark Atlanta.

Quote: “Right now I do my schoolwork online in the morning. All of my classes are online. That helps with the cost. But I really want to try to get to Clark Atlanta in the fall.”

DELILAH WHITESMITH 48, Suwanee

Family: Separated from her husband, Derek. Two children, son J.R., 29, and daughter Bianca, 15.

Situation: The downturn in the economy has slowed sales at Whitesmith’s flower shop, making it impossible for her to keep her business running and pay off $100,000 in debt left over from a 2004 expansion bid. Adding to her predicament, she’s going through a divorce and frequently has to take time off to supervise the care of her daughter, who has cystic fibrosis.

What she’s up to: On the advice of her attorney, Whitesmith is waiting for one of her creditors to sue her over lapsed payments before filing for personal bankruptcy.

Quote: “God just has not put a spirit of fear in me, I know without a doubt that he will come through for me. I just don’t know when. It is his timing not mine.”

CHRIS RAY 37, Marietta

Family: Wife, Laura; son, Carter, 2.

Situation: Laid-off twice in the past year, three times in the past nine years. Abhors debt and live-beyond-your-means mentality. Postpones big-ticket purchases —- furnace, roof, car, big-screen TV —- until he can pay with cash.

What he’s up to: Hired in December as project manager providing retail support for hospitals and health care facilities.

Quote: “The Bible says the borrower is slave to the lender, and that’s true. You only have to look at our society today.”

STEVE WEST 47, Atlanta

Family: Son, Matt, grown. Daughter, Addison, college senior.

Situation: Three years ago, West, a master carpenter who grew up in Pennsylvania, was busy running a crew of six or seven tradesmen building home additions, renovating kitchens and bathrooms. Today, many, if not most of the large jobs have dried up and he finds himself bidding for smaller jobs and competing with illegal immigrants, the Johnny-come-lately crowd and other hungry contractors cutting their prices to the bone.

What he’s up to: He and another contractor he’s known for years have joined forces, taking advantage of the other guy’s skills and contacts. “The two of us have gotten together. We’re watching each other’s backs. Trying to stay afloat.” A lot of their work is doing smaller jobs they wouldn’t have even considered a year ago. They hope their bare-boned combined operation will provide them enough business to survive until things get better.

Quote: “I remember how hard it was on my dad in the ’70s. But it seems tougher now.”

ON AJC.COM

> Follow the Rewriting the American Dream series online as people just like you struggle in today’s economy.