Post
by windsor » May 13th, 2011, 3:15 pm
I had to jump into the way back machine to find this thread.
In the job-before-this-one, I worked for 7 years for a gentleman named Charlie. He was our CIO. Easily the best boss…ever, and probably the only one I trusted absolutely. He looked out for his people. He told you the straight dope, and when he knew things he couldn’t tell he’d try to drop enough hints that you connected the dots. He was a hands off guy…he trusted you to do your job and come to him if you need anything. He had an easy laugh…the loved the Bengals and the Reds. He collected golf shirts from our vendors…and he had a million of them.
When my daughter was playing high school tennis he’d download the schedule and put it on his calendar. Home or away, if her school had a match he’d come walking by my desk to make sure I was going …his own sons had played high school baseball, and he missed way too many of their games being a good company man.
Seven weeks before the company was shut down by the Feds (due to our Parent company being morons, not us) Charlie was asked to cut 6 staff (1/3 of the department at that time). He laid off 6 of his most senior people, including yours truly. I will never forget the look on his face as he told me…and the sense of a double meaning when he said “trust me Loni, this is for the best”. As I said, I trusted him…and I believed him. I went out the door with 21 weeks of severance (3 for each year…our policy for my grade level). The most senior person let go had been there 14 years…and yup..that’s 42 weeks. Seven weeks later the company was shut down. Those that were left, except for the handful held over for wind down/clean up got two weeks pay and a thank you. I don’t know what he knew…but I know he looked out for his senior folks…those that were left got close to what they would have gotten anyway. I know he looked out for me.
We got together for lunch from time to time after that. Two years ago he wasn’t feeling well, and was diagnosed with a intestinal blockage. It was fixed surgically and all was well. Two months after the surgery he awoke in the morning doubled over in pain…they rushed him to the hospital and opened his abdomen to find most of his bowel literally ‘eaten’ by bacteria. They closed him up, woke him up, he said good bye to his wife, his three children, his grand children and he died. He was 56 years old.
Charlie had one odd habit – he never, ever (not even as a teenager) worked on Friday the 13th. He wouldn’t tell any one why (not even his wife…who was his high school sweetheart) he just took the day off.
Since his passing I’ve thought of Charlie on the Friday the 13ths. Tonight I will be gathering with some of my former co-workers in one of our old haunts and raising a glass in his honor.
He was a good man, gone way too soon…and if the CTNers are so inclined, when 10 pm rolls around raise a glass for Charlie. He’d really have liked that.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost.
Ozzie and I are both 56. That's too damn young to die.
