What Makes A Leader

This article first appeared in the October 10, 1990 issue of The Camden Chronicle. If anyone knows the Larry Vick mentioned in the article, I'd be interested in what happened to him and the project he supported.

It is gratifying and reassuring to see so many letters to the Editor on the Opinion page of The Chronicle lately. Gratifying because that is what the Opinion page is for, it is the place for people in the country to call attention to a problem they feel is plaguing the community or to just get something off their chest. In addition, it is the place in a small community, sometimes the only place, for the thinkers to put forth new thoughts and ideas.

Many people feel the places to look for leadership and innovation in our political and social worlds are among our federal politicians and in our appellate courts. If not that high, at least to the elected and appointed officials at the State level. However, when we examine the process closely, most of the time we find the real thinking comes from the grass roots. With few exceptions, our political and social leaders are so busy maintaining the status quo and perpetuating themselves in office there is little time left to think of the people who elected them.

For this reason it is unexpected and reassuring to see a local politician taking the bull by the horns when he feels there is a need and putting the political process to work in the way it was intended at the local level.

In the past few weeks, County Commissioner Larry Vick has just about single-handedly sold the County on building a Civic Center to provide a place for young people, as well as the elderly, to meet and play and enjoy themselves in a manner that is good and right. I don't know Larry Vick, but I like the way he works. He sets forth his ideas in a coherent style and asks for help without whining or begging. He knows that alone he can accomplish nothing, but when a community works together, a lot can be accomplished in a very short time.

As mentioned before, I never met young Mr. Vick, but I knew his father personally and his grandfather by reputation, so I know the bloodline is good. When one tires, as I do, of reading about greedy inept politicians in our big city newspapers, reading about Larry Vick's energy and interest i his community is like a breath of fresh air.

The Saving Grace of 'Catch-22'

This article first appeared in the June 7, 2000 issue of The Camden Chronicle

When I heard on the news that Joseph Heller died, it sent my mind sailing backwards to a time when things were not going well for me and he helped me laugh my way through my low time.  

You see, Heller wrote a book called "Catch-22." It was about an Army Air Force bombardier who had seen too much German flak thrown up at his plane during bombing runs and was seeking any way to be grounded in order to stop his missions. The book's central character was Air Force Captain Yossarian and he was about as craven a coward as you'll ever read about, but don't feel superior because he is not unique. I'm almost certain that everyone who has ever fought in a war has shared Yossarian-type feelings.

Yossarian wanted to be declared insane and grounded by the medical staff, thus ending his dangerous missions over Italy where Hermann Goering's (Hitler's Luftwaffe leader) anti-aircraft gunners were defending targets. The trouble for Yossarian was that the Army's medical section opined a bombardier who wasn't afraid was a crazy person. The scared ones were perfectly normal, thus "Catch-22."

At the time I read the book I was in as blue a funk as Capt. Yossarian. The milk plant where I had worked since my 18th birthday had closed down and laid off its entire staff. Management included. I was as scared as Yossarian because I was having to plot a whole new course for my life's work. I had a young consort and a child to protect and support, a mortgage to meet and bills to pay. Money was scarce.

From my 18th birthday, the day I was hired at the milk plant, until the day I was summarily dismissed, I never expected to work at any other place. Career-wise, I thought I had found a home. As I found out when I was reading "Catch-22," there are forces working against all of us which we don't have much control over. Despite all of our plans, sometimes we must grab hold of the nearest hand grip and go along for the ride.While we're at it, we might as well relax and enjoy the ride we're on.

Because of my youth and my willingness to work, I had been welcomed into all parts of the milk plant. In three or four years, I was on speaking terms with people in every aspect of the plant's operations. Because of his, and the fact that I showed up for work everyday, I was a valued, well-paid employee who was appointed to break in the college grads recently recruited from Michigan State with degrees in Animal Husbandry and Dairy Management.

I had so much confidence I was cocky and real sure of myself, conditions that don't lend themselves to much fright or self-reflection. When the boom was lowered, I was in no condition to handle the pressure.

As Yossarian did, I panicked. At first I went into a state of denial. I didn't want anyone to know I had lost my job. I just couldn't bring myself to believe there would be no more job to go to each morning, where I would be completely confident of what I had to do and the manner in which I was to do it. For a week, I told people who asked that I was on vacation. I knew soon or later I would have to admit I was out of work. Not just out of work, it was worse than that. I was forced into a new system of life where I was just another "hand."

The woman I consorted with then, and as now, tried to console me but I refused to be comforted. The questions I asked myself and the decisions I had to make were mountainous to me. For the first time in a long time, I lost confidence in myself. Ask any athlete what a loss of confidence means. I asked myself questions like, should I accept the first job offer that comes along or hold out for a better one? Should I look for work in other fields or restrict myself to applications in the dairy industry, a field I knew well. "Catch-22" conditions had forced my company out of business and and was affecting the entire industry in Detroit. Very few companies were hiring new people. I found out there were plenty of other guys like me in the job market with as much skill and experience.

Then I happened on Joseph Heller's book and I realized there are worse conditions to be in than merely out of work. It was a fun book. I laughed when I read the lines that reminded me of myself and how I had overreacted to my situation. Sure enough, it wasn't long before I was established in another job and enjoying my work again.

On the last page of "Catch-22," Yossarian is asked how he feels. "I'm very frightened," was his reply. "That's good," the Major doing the asking said. "That proves you're still alive."

Where's Bobby Gentry When You Need Her?

This article was first published in the September 5, 1990 issue of The Camden Chronicle. 

Just about the time I say to myself, "Self, I believe I've seen or heard about every dumb thing a bumbling politician or stupid, arrogant bureaucrat can do," one comes up with a new ineptness that baffles the mind.

Here in Michigan we are blessed with the normal amount of bumbling politicians but due to the wealth of the state and the high tax structure, we will put our number of over-bloated bureaucracies up against any state, with the possible exceptions of New York and Massachusetts.

Zilwaukee Bridge collapse, 1987

Some years ago, the Michigan Department of Transportation decided to build a bridge over a Big Sandy-sized river on Interstate 75, north of Detroit*. The span they designed and built would have crossed the Amazon at the river's widest point. The original cost estimate was amazing and the over-runs were atrocious. Before it was finished, a portion of the bridge fell delaying work for months and months. Meanwhile, three departments were pointing the finger at each other with none taking the blame. As usual, the taxpayer felt a mighty surge in his hip pocket.

Now, none of our state departments has committed a blunder that is funny, unless you are a fish. In this particular case, the cost to the taxpayer is low enough that we can laugh about it. The Michigan Department of Natural Resources was testing the effects of coal-fired power plants on the fish in the Muskegon River. The method they used was to put a poison called Rotenone in the water near the return point that the power plants used. Then they would count the number of dead fish that floated to the surface. Unfortunately, they let it get out of hand. The poison floated downstream three miles, merrily killing fish along its way. The department head, David Hales, immediately pleaded guilty.

"We broke the law," he said, "and we'll pay a penalty." He ordered his department to pay two $25,000 fines to the State's General Fund.

"We're no different than anyone else," said Mr. Hales. "We violated the law, so we have to pay."

This brings up two questions. First: When something is dead, can it be counted? Does Benton County count the people buried in Mt. Zion Cemetery in its census? And, if so, does Mary Parker count since she escaped**?

The second question is: since the Rotenone damage to sport fishing in the river is estimated at $100,000, why compound it by giving away $50,000? Why not use that money to repair the damage? Bureaucracies alone may not destroy the state of Michigan but Lordy, Lordy, they sure provide some comic relief.

Editor's Notes:
*   I believe Jim is referring to The Zilwaukee Bridge, located on I-75 over the Saginaw River. 
** For more information about the mystery of Mary Parker, click on the link above. 

And Bobby Gentry's song was one of Jim's favorites. 

Advice For Graduating Seniors

Editor's Note: This was originally published in The Camden Chronicle, but the exact date is unknown. At the time of Jim's death in January 2000, the biggest internet story was the fact that none of the dire predictions surrounding January 1, 2000 ("Y2K") had come to pass. Facebook, Twitter, etc., may have been ideas percolating in some teenager's consciousness, but I have my doubts about that. In the article below, as with many issues, Jim foreshadows the use of social media by employers and others to monitor behavior and use those observations to make a range of decisions impacting employment, college admissions, and so forth. 

At lunch a few days ago, a friend and I were discussing the opportunities, or lack of opportunities, facing this year's group of high school graduates. My friend, a southern expatriate like myself, was explaining, "When I came to Detroit in 1947, a fellow could sleep 'til 8:00 on just about any morning and still get a job before lunchtime. My advice to a high school grad is to continue on with their education. Jobs are much harder to come by now."

I suppose my friend's advice makes sense, but as for me, I have no advice for a student continuing on to college because I never went and cannot speak with authority.* But I do have advice for a young person who is beginning a lifetime  of work in a supermarket, hamburger franchise, machine shop, factory, or any of the thousands of unskilled jobs that are required to keep this country humming: KEEP A JOURNAL!

Not a diary. Not a record of holding hands with a Saturday night date. I'm talking about a record of the people you work with and especially the ones in authority over you.

From the moment you make application and are hired, every move you make and every word you speak will be reported in some personnel file the company requires its managers to keep. Your personal life will be recorded, too. Your habits, such as smoking and drinking, will be noted and scrutinized in the event that you are eligible for some sort of promotion or advance in the company. Screening agencies will be hired to check on your family life and your friends. Is your spouse the proper sort? Will he or she fit into the company's scheme of things? Are your friends well behaved? Do they have sexual or social failings that could bring embarrassment to you and, through you, to the company?

In order to minimize the effect these company-kept personnel records might have on you in the future a journal of all your workmates, and especially middle- and upper-management in the organization, is absolutely essential. This way, when sales are slow, new orders are not forthcoming and your boss pulls your personnel file because layoffs are the order of the day, you can pull out your own file and explain why it would be better if you are kept.

Records are a powerful tool and anyone can keep them. Remember, a properly kept journal can be far more valuable than the high school diploma you just earned.

###

More editor's notes: 

* This is sort of true. Jim didn't get a high school diploma in 1948 as he should have, instead he quit school two months before graduating and hopped a bus for Detroit. I never did hear a story that made sense. In one serious questioning, he explained that he had done badly on tests and quit before he thought he would be humiliated by flunking. In another, he claimed that he just wanted to come to the big city and make money. Quitting and being motivated by money were two traits I never would have used to describe my father. However, after being discharged from the Navy (see Letters From The USS Valley Forge), Jim received a G.E.D. and did take some courses, including creative writing and public speaking, from Henry Ford Community College. 

As with much of Jim's writing, the tone is a bit tongue in cheek. As a father, he never advocated blackmailing supervisors in the event of an unfortunate conversation. However, he did recommend constant observation of one's environment and listening for what was not being said. He also recommended a Pharm.D. as the best of all possible careers to anyone who would listen.