If you see something, say something!

 My dear brother-in-law tried to cheat death with a tackle box worth of vitamins and supplements. Arrayed alphabetically, the pills promised him a longer life… and probably other things too. Twice daily he sat at the kitchen table, opened the magic box and indulged in longevity.

He once told the social security interviewer that he would live forever. Must have gotten an eye roll from her. He lived in a nice two-story neighborhood in St. Paul with his younger wife. They may have been pill poppers, but never anything illegal, hallucinogenic or even fun. Never. Her sister, my wife, has claimed to have been high in her younger years, once, by sharing a communal joint, but even that story is somewhat dubious.

Then one day in his St. Paul home came the knock on the brother-in-laws door from the authorities. Yes. Two agents asking for an interview. Flabbergasted, the couple consented immediately. There had been reports of illegal activity at this residence, it seemed. No mistake. Eyewitness. This was the exact location, the St. Paul detectives insisted.

Gradually, facts emerged. The neighboring eyewitness, from the vantage point of her upstairs window. had peered down into their kitchen and seen him repeatedly. Very suspicious indeed, she said. Yes, he had flipped open a tackle box and revealed an enormous array of pills. The witness knew that no one in his right mind would amass such a collection of vitamins. It had to be drugs. Authorities were called.

If you see something, say something.

Sadly, despite his heroic efforts, my brother-in-law did not live forever. A mere mortal, he died an ordinary death at or near the table of expectancy of the Social Security Administration.

They had left their St. Paul neighborhood long before his demise, selling their home, but probably with the kitchen shades still pulled, to avoid any further reports of suspicious activity.

-30- My friend, lifetime employee, passes.

 Bob Suel came to work for us after graduation in the 70s. He never left. Though-out his lifetime career with us, he became a husband, a father, a survivor, a homeowner, and a loyal friend. His remarkable consistency and unquestioning support were the hallmarks of his longevity. 

You could count on Bob.

When he opposed something. It was not for selfish reasons, but for what he believed was best for the company. He cherished his role in the informal inner circle of decision makers, meeting over a beer in the boss’s basement, genuinely guiding the future of the enterprise in his personal care. A truly rare and comforting asset when we were making difficult decisions. 

Whenever a competitive challenge or bad idea loomed that he felt would spell trouble, he was fond of saying, “We have to stomp on the dragon’s eggs” in other words, get ahead of this thing before it is big enough to bite us.

He came to work just out of high school. Newspaper owner Bill McGarry acquired him at the time and asked me to find a place for him. Bob thought he might like to be a writer, a journalist, and so he went on a few assignments.. We decided a better fit might be on the sales team, representing the company. We had one telephone and an extension at the time, so Bob had his work cut out. He put on a tie and went to work in a role he would never leave.

His buddies had all picked up entry jobs, and were astonished to see Bob going to work so soon wearing that tie. Where ever is he going, many wondered. How could it be?

Bob dressed for success from that point forward. Years later, when “casual Friday” was in vogue and his partner came to work without a tie and wearing jeans, he was quickly admonished by Bob, “Oh no, we don’t do that in Southwest sales” he reminded the junior miscreant.

Bob deserved many thanks for his lifetime of service, unwavering through thick and thin. Our success as a growing firm lay squarely on his shoulders, and many other like him, who put the good of the organization above their own immediate needs. Thank you for Bob, a good and faithful man.

What can I say!