In Memory of Jeff Mascott

“So that’s what this lunch is about?” Jeff Mascott said to me when I told him I wanted to come over to work for him one cold day in January 2011. I told him he needed to hire me. And he needed to do it that week. And so began our relationship where I would ask for big things and I would sometimes get them. But I can tell you one thing Jeff always did; he listened.

Two weeks (ahem) later when I started at Adfero , the firm Jeff launched twenty years ago, Jeff told me I was only going to have a week to get to know the staff before I had to tell them I was leaving for a week to go to Key West for a conference. And that they were probably not going to like me much for that. When we got to the conference, Jeff told me that this was the biggest, most important conference for our industry and that it would take me two or three years before I would probably feel like I fit in with the crowd.

When one of the speakers had travel issues and was not able to make it down to speak on his panel on social media, the conference planners naturally turned to Jeff. Jeff had made a name for himself as a trailblazer in bringing digital tactics to Washington, D.C. He was one of the first to be given a title of digital director on the Hill but more importantly, Jeff really understood the potential disruption that digital and social media could bring to the practices of public affairs, grassroots, advocacy, public relations, and advertising. You have to remember that ten to fifteen years ago, the digital fields were nascent and the platforms themselves were still finding their way. Jeff knew that to grow as practitioners, we would have to be changemakers, not followers. And that is what drew me to want to come work alongside him in the first place.

Back at the conference, I saw Jeff pointing a finger at me through the crowd while speaking to the conference planners. He was telling them that I would be a better choice to speak on the panel. They approached me. “When is the panel,” I asked? “In 20 minutes,” they all responded in unison. Jeff smiled at me. Jeff always smiled big smiles.

I could tell Jeff was smiling that big smile the time I called him from Florida where he had sent me alone to negotiate our role as a subcontractor in a substantial government contract bid with (I am not exaggerating) literal aeronautic scientists. It was the third day in a series of day long meetings where I was the only “PR” person in a room full of PhD’s. My role was to be the person to develop the communications plan if, God forbid, the calculations the PhD’s were doing were wrong and something went awry. Needless to say, they all assured me that that would never happen. I smiled my non-Jeff-Mascott meek smile and said, but I still have to be here.

I was calling Jeff that night because I wanted to know what “number” I should give. One by one the next day, each of the subcontractors were being called into a meeting with the prime contractor to provide their budget. I wanted Jeff to tell me what that number should be. I wanted his approval. He telephone-smiled his big smile at me. “Sue, you’ll do what you think is right.”

The next day, I slid a piece of paper across a conference room table, hoping I had put the decimal in the right place (these numbers were in millions). They looked at it. They nodded. I nodded. I walked out of the room.

And so it went as the firm grew from 18 to 20 to 25 to 30 staff. Jeff and I had promised the staff that when the firm reached a certain goal that Jeff would breakdance while I DJ’d some old school hip hop in the office break room, no cameras allowed. You didn’t see that sentence coming, did you? But true to his word, Jeff came storming in one Friday wearing an ‘80’s nylon tracksuit and sneakers while the music played, and he spun around on his back while everyone screamed and cheered.

As a leader of a firm myself now, I have thought so often about Jeff’s leadership. His advice. His way of thinking. His gift of building team culture. His passion for understanding what motivates each and every person. I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for the time I spent with Jeff. Because I knew all along what he was doing, Aries to Aries. He knew what motivated me was my competitive spirit. He was daring me to succeed.

I went out of my way to get to know the staff the first week.

I went out of my way to get to know the ins and outs of that conference.

I went out of my way to help drive the growth of the firm.

And along the way, I started to believe that I could do things I never thought I could do. I started to realize I had it in me all along.

But the thing is, I think Jeff knew that already. For that and so much more, I say, thank you. I appreciate you. Big smile.

Rest in peace.