High Standards: A Tribute to HC
Recent revelations at my current workplace and personal life have brought back memories of working through the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.
I know for many Katrina signifies failure and death on the Gulf Coast.
For me it signifies success in a blast fire oven.
When Katrina hit I was working in Logistics and getting stuff moved around the country. Usually this job was all about negotiation and getting everyone on the same page and with their ducks in a row to get things done.
Katrina instantly multiplied the number of pages ten-fold and sent the ducks into a flurry of action and interaction unmatched even by the sub-molecular flurry in a nuclear reactor.
It is amazing how much the usual political bullshit, turf wrangling, and general friction points get ground out and expunged damn near instantly when extreme situations arise.
Honestly much of working through Katrina’s aftermath is a blur.
There is one interaction that I still remember.
I was in the office late managing to get a few ducks in a row to get bananas from our Florida port to Atlanta. This wasn’t something we usually did as Atlanta used to be served from Gulfport, Mississippi. Our Gulfport operation had lost the gamble with Katrina when a casino was dropped upon it. Moving this sourcing point was no easy feat, as it doubled the transportation distance and time over pulling them from Gulfport.
I was working with one of our trusted, long term partners, an Atlanta based family run company. Usually we worked with MC, the operating manager, and son of the couple that ran the business.
However MC has volunteered and was driving one truck of a convoy of relief supplies into Gulfport, so I was working with HC, his father.
HC was an older man, sharp, personable, although like many his age he lagged in his computing abilities.
I remember I was talking with HC at the end of the day putting the finishing touches on getting the Florida-Atlanta lane ready to go and getting all the ducks in a row. HC and I had worked through a number of issues and we were wrapping up the call. When, he meekly asked,
“Nick, can I ask you a favor?”
“Sure HC, what can I do?”
“MC and our dispatcher are out of the office and they’re the ones that pull the loads,” trucker speak for the exact details needed to get a truckload of product from point A to B, “off the computer, and he’s not here.” HC paused and uncharacteristically meekly, and a bit embarrassed he continued, “I dont’ know how to do that.”
I quickly offered to pull the loads for him and fax them to him.
He held himself to high standards and was uncomfortable letting me see a deficiency. For me this was the simplest problem I had solved all day, it was a relaxing relief solving a simple problem. But for him, it was a compromising of his high standards.
I’m not sure if that was the last interaction I had with HC or not. It surely is the last one I remember.
He passed away on Christmas Day 2006.
I’m sure he never compromised on his high standards.