Personal Journal

Men of Honor

Part 2 from the previous

Ron Davidson.
Known as "Griz" for "Grizzly." Also "the Old Man," which is a very military title. He is a retired full-bird Colonel, which is where he earned that nickname.

When I started as a temporary, I was sent to his department, and I performed well. One day he invited me to his office and asked how I was doing with becoming a permanent employee.

Having just had a conversation with my L3 boss about that subject, and having heard from her the familiar cry "Not a team player", I embarrassingly reported that there were some areas where my boss wanted me to improve...

He dismissed that with a wave and said he meant, specifically, was I a permanent employee yet. I said no.
Without another word, he picked up his phone and called my boss's boss, and said he wanted to keep me, what was the problem with making me permanent.

Up until that point, I had been out of work for the previous 5 months.
He got me my job. I don't think my boss (real boss who remains the same woman), whom I've since come to impress and become familial with, would have hired me at that time were it not for Griz.

I learned that when Griz spoke, people jumped. And I have been loyal to him since.

When Jean got diagnosed, it was just the week after my 3-month on-location gig had ended. I spent 3 months working 60 hours a week for him, and when I returned, Jean was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer.

He came to me then and he said that I was guaranteed my job - to go do what I had to do for Jean and to never worry about work first. Work second.

They ensured that I was equipped with a laptop from which to work from home (the term eventually became notorious between Jean and I as a term meaning I was coming home to do absolutely NOTHING but be with and care for her - nothing from work). I finished all of my work in 4 hours - for a brief stretch during the late summer, I worked some 6 and 8 hour days when Jean was at her best.

Then, as she started the slow decline in September, after her first seizure, he came to me again, and said, "I promise you you have your job."
He told me to do what I needed to do for Jean. And that was all that was said.

I barely worked in October, November, and none in December. In November, Griz was fired in one of those fancy big-company ways, where they decide someone has to take the fall for something, and they pinned it on him. Griz was gone one day while I was out taking Jean to the doctor.

It pisses me off, but he's no worse for wear for it. Money was not something he needed. And his successful record will enable him to find another job as soon as he wants one.

But after Jean died, I saw something one day. I was buying some candles in a candle shop, for my trip to New Jersey to have for emergencies in the car. On the wall behind me was a rather stunningly impressive framed and matted painting of a grizzly bear in full swing at something.

I knew I had to buy it for Ron, to thank him for what he did for Jean and I. Griz had many grizzly bear artworks in his office, although this one even by those standards would be most grand. It was a $400 painting and frame.

I decided it was worth it.
I know that if Jean were alive, she wouldn't approve of spending that kind of money. When she was alive, we didn't have it. But when she died, I did inherit some affluence I've never before had.

And I decided that $400 is simply insignificant in comparison to what Griz did for my family for the last year.

He protected us. He made it possible for me to be home - with Jean, to care for her, and to spend as much time as conceivably possible with her. He never raised an eyebrow or asked a question about my schedule, or my work.

He made it possible for me to learn to love Jean in a higher way than I ever could have in the time we had available to us.
I don't know why he did it. Some would say that he did it because he felt I deserved it, or something. I don't know.
All I know is that in my lifetime, in all of the stories that I've heard about people having sick loved ones who needed them to sacrifice some of their work, I've never heard of anyone anywhere having the kind of support that I received from Griz, his deputy, and their secretary (Peg).

I spent $400 to thank Griz, and now I need to meet with him. I've spent half as much on his Deputy (who I didn't have time to talk about) on a box of Dominican Republic cigars, a cutter, and a case. And I'll spend on Peg as well, who was a mother for me at work.

I think that maybe if I wrote this out for Jean, she'd understand why I'm doing this. There are so few men of honor left in this world. I consider myself among them. One of them. And I have to take the careful time out to thank them for something that no amount of money can ever repay.

I owe them all of my gratitude, and much much more. I owe them my complete loyalty.