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We are saying our final
farewell to a man who was, to me, first a nemesis, then a co-worker, then a friend. Rinse and repeat, again and again and again
over the course of 45 years! And while I truly considered him a friend, he was
always somewhat of a mystery to me too.
I first saw him on my initial
job interview with the NCR Corporation in Dayton, Ohio in late 1969. I had not yet graduated from college. I was in awe of the prospect of working for
this renowned company, and definitely feeling a lot of anxiety. My interviewer was immaculately dressed and
groomed, sophisticated yet friendly, the model of a modern business
professional – in other words very unlike me.
Going through my head . . . you
only have one chance to make a good first impression.
So there I was facing my
interviewer in a glass encased office that was in the middle of a bullpen of
desk workers. As I am trying my level
best to supply intelligent answers, all of a sudden this person appears on the
other side of the window wall (behind the interviewer) and starts all kind of
antics . . . putting finger “horns” on the interviewer’s head, making
gorilla-like gestures, drawing knife-across-throat and hanging pantomimes! That was my “introduction” to big business
and to an extraordinary human being.
I have no idea what I ended
up saying in that interview and to this day I am amazed I received an offer of
employment. When I reported to work, I
finally met my antagonist and was astounded to learn he had only been hired a
few months before my interview and had the moxy as a new employee to pull this
prank. That’s when I also learned he had
been asked to leave Notre Dame after being caught participating in a panty raid
at St. Mary’s. Perhaps he considered his
stunt with me, and many others over the years, merely child’s play.
When our department relocated
to Wisconsin, I was a single man always in search of a home cooked meal. At times it appeared to TL’s wife Nancy that
they might as well adopt me. At and
after many a dinner in their home, I believe I saw a different TL than many of
my coworkers. Out of the limelight,
without feeling any need or pressure to “perform”, TL almost seemed to live
down at my level. [Nah, not really!]
The very next day I could
become the butt of his comment or joke.
On our company softball team he graced me with the nickname
“Stonefingers” after one of my many errors.
But I wasn’t singled out; he took particular delight in bestowing
nicknames to coworkers (a long time before G. W. Bush was doing it). And when my future wife showed up at her/our
first company function, after being introduced, TL loudly asked her “are those D’s
or double D’s”? I could have strangled
him!
TL, for all his antics, was
an extremely dedicated and loyal company man.
I had occasions to accompany him on sales calls ranging from small sheet
printers who might buy 500 pounds of product per year to national account
plants that could buy more than 5000 tons per year. In my observations he
always represented our company and its products extremely well and with a level
of enthusiasm and professionalism few could surpass. And his “secret sauce” was that he always made his interaction with a
customer or prospect a memorable event.
Talented/outrageous/intuitive/edgy/courageous/crazy? In many ways I think TL was a savant . . .
think Jonathon Winters or Robin Williams. And, like them, a little dose could go a long way, if you know what I mean!
TL provided enough memories
to last me until I meet him again . . . I think he’ll be the one behind St.
Peter, putting horns on his head!
