In Memoriam

One unfortunate reality of reaching my age is losing valued friends and family members. Too many times, I run into a former gas company co-worker and learn of the passing of someone I knew but haven’t seen for a while, and I have a superficial reaction such as that’s a shame. I hope the family is handling it well. In those situations, my muted response was simply because I didn't know the person well.

Other times, like yesterday, I learn of the passing of one of my gas company friends, and the news is so unexpected that it hits me like a ton of bricks. My wife, grandson, and I were in the building materials section of our local Lowes store when I saw Jim, a former gas company co-worker whom I had known very well but hadn’t seen since my 2014 departure from Missouri Gas Energy . Jim retired in 2019 from the same company, now known as Spire Energy. As usual, we spoke about changes at the company and people we knew. Jim mentioned that Dan, a former co-worker we both knew well, died in October at 62.

Dan was a good man. He was soft-spoken and had a kind heart. Dan didn’t drink, smoke, or curse, making him something of an oddity at the gas company since, back in the day, many of us enjoyed meeting after work for beers and cursing like sailors on shore leave. Dan was a Christian who wasn’t preachy; he lived his Christian faith by example. I admired Dan for being his own man and for not being ashamed of his differences, even though he always seemed a bit uncomfortable around us since we were basically a group of loud, burly construction workers.

Dan was hired at the gas company in early 1990. Dan was a meter reader and was very good at it while I was a service technician. In 1995, our company installed automated meter reading and eliminated the meter reader’s jobs. I had the opportunity to train Dan and several former meter readers as service technicians. Dan tried hard but initially wasn’t a good fit in his new position. His kind heart made it challenging to red-tag and turn off unsafe customer appliances. Dan wanted to please his customers, and he became stressed when he couldn’t. I taught Dan that red-tagging unsafe appliances was how we kept people safe, not to anger the customer – even though that was often the result. Dan continued to learn and eventually became a highly competent service technician.

Around 2002, I had been a construction and maintenance foreman for a few years when Dan bid on my crew as a backhoe operator. In those days, an employee with no experience could be awarded an equipment operator job based solely upon seniority, and the foreman would be tasked with training them into an operator while also getting all of the crew’s assigned work completed. This was sometimes a tough balance.

I now realize it was during this time that I failed Dan.

I don’t know why Dan wanted to become a backhoe operator, but he had little natural aptitude for it. I struggled. Dan struggled. It just wasn’t happening. I remember venting at Dan – a lot. I became frustrated with him. Dan once drove a 14,000-pound backhoe into a customer’s nice yard to dig the tap hole from the yard side rather than digging it while sitting the tractor on the paved street. This was after days of Spring rain. Dan's backhoe left muddy ruts a foot deep in the customer's manicured yard that took us a day to fix after the yard dried out. I was the foreman, so I received both barrels of the customer’s ire as the man called me every name in the book. He obviously took care of his lawn and thought we were complete idiots for destroying it. I vented my frustrations at Dan for the mistake.

On another occasion, Dan was driving our crew truck, pulling the trailer with the backhoe on it, when he forgot about the connected trailer and cut a corner too short, dropping the trailer and backhoe over the side of an embankment where it eventually came to rest against an electrical transmission support structure for the main power lines leaving a nearby power plant. The accident nearly knocked the power lines down, which would have caused a city-wide electrical outage to about 100,000 residents. Our crew truck was pulled by the sliding backhoe to the embankment's edge, but fortunately, not over the side.

After securing the truck and surveying the situation, it was my job to call Dispatch to request law enforcement to block the road, our supervisor, the power company, and a heavy truck tow service to attempt to get our equipment winched back onto the road. I also had to let Dispatch know we would be out of service for approximately two hours and that if any emergency calls came in, they would have to call in an off-duty construction and maintenance crew. I was embarrassed and again criticized Dan. The following day, I met with my supervisor and took responsibility for the accident. However, I resented Dan for putting me in that position.

There were other mishaps as Dan continued as my operator. He got slightly more proficient but didn't reach the level of a professional backhoe operator. Eventually, Dan returned to being a service technician. ?

These interactions with Dan happened over twenty years ago. This was before I became a professional trainer and before I learned how to coach and mentor struggling learners. Despite the length of time that's passed, I wish I had done a better job with Dan.

I’ve been thinking about Dan a lot since I learned of his untimely passing. I was responsible for mentoring and training Dan several times throughout our careers. I keep asking myself why I wasn’t more patient with Dan. I may have caused him more stress and made it difficult for him to learn the duties of his job. My demeanor may have influenced Dan's failure as an operator. I’ll never know what Dan could have accomplished if I had been as good-natured as he was. What if I had sat down calmly with Dan and shared my concerns, or what if I had given Dan guidance in advance of these problems since I was more experienced? What if I had reminded him about the recent heavy rains before we unloaded the backhoe near that well-manicured lawn? What if I’d told Dan to slow down and swing wide before he entered that sharp turn? Those two frustrating situations might not have happened. Dan might have become more confident as he learned, which may have led to him becoming a competent backhoe operator.

The lesson I’ve learned from this situation is that I need to be more patient with people, especially those who are different. Dan was a meek person, but that didn’t make him weak. Spiritually, Dan was incredibly strong. Too bad I didn't see that at the time. Dan might have benefitted from a mentor who praised him and coached him to be successful rather than one who highlighted his shortcomings.

Dan's proficiency in backhoe operation doesn't define his memory. He had a happy and successful life away from work. I remember Dan's face lit up when speaking of the bluegrass festivals he and his wife traveled to and played at. Dan was an accomplished guitar player and entertainer.

I know it’s now too late, Dan, but I apologize to you. I’m sorry I let you down. If anything good comes from me failing you, it will be that I promise to do better with others in your memory. I was assigned to teach you, but in the end, you taught me more than you knew. Thank you for that.

Rest in peace, my friend, Dan Delancey. May God bless your memory and comfort your friends and family.

You can view Dan's obituary here:

https://www.ferryfuneralhome.com/obituary/Dan-Delancey