Why Old Men Cry 7/27/22

At one time, I kept a personal journal and engaged in an exercise where I would write three pages and run three miles every day. During that time, some themes were recurring. One was a piece called “Why Old Men Cry.” The central concept was that was we get older we are often moved by things more emotionally than in our younger years.

Well, today I am breaking that theme out again. At my age (77 this November), you find yourself crying often and for various reasons. This morning, for example, I saw a clip from the recent Newport Folk Festival with Joni Mitchell singing “Yellow Taxi” and I cried- for a multitude of reasons- her physical demise, my lost youth and the sadness associated with the ending process of life itself. But I also cried tears of joy and fulfillment for what her music meant to mine and others’ lives and for the love she was being shone by those present at Newport and what it means to share in the human experience.

Yesterday, I cried for similar reasons. Around eight o’clock in the evening, I received a call on my cell phone from my longtime friend, Jim Wall. I picked up the phone and said, “Hey, dude, how’s it going?” The voice on the other end of the phone answered, “Fred, this is Vee. I saw your name in Jim’s list of contacts and thought I would call you to tell you that Jim passed away over the weekend. I know he thought a lot of you and would want you to know.” At my age, these types of conversations are all too frequent, and always uncomfortable. We exchanged thoughts for a few minutes. I told her how much Jim meant to me and what a good man he was, and we ultimately ended the conversation.

For the next few hours, I thought about my friend a lot and about the times we spent together. And I shed more than a few tears- tears mostly of gratitude for having known him, as well as a few for his passing.

There are several kinds of people in this world. The best are those that care for others above themselves, do their best without seeking fame and fortune and whose actions are 100% consistent with their professed beliefs. Jim Wall was one of those people.

Two stories illustrate this:

In 1998, Jim and I were working as consultants with one of the major Healthcare Group Purchasing Organizations (GPOs). We were having a big corporate meeting in Dallas over the Memorial Day weekend, and during the meeting it became known that several consultants who were working on an engagement in California had seriously messed up the job. The final report was due on the Tuesday following Memorial Day, and to put it mildly, it sucked. The VP in charge of our division came to me and said, “Fred, you need to fix this. We need a report by Tuesday, or we will lose the account. The consultants who wrote this report are new and have no idea of what is required. Fix it or we will lose the account. Get Jim and Shaya and produce something we can use. Stay here until you are finished.” So Jim, Shaya Romey and myself took the chicken droppings the new consultants had produced, and, in three days produced something that resembled chicken salad. Of the three of us, only Jim had visited the site. Fortunately for us, he had collected enough good data for us to cobble something together. Shaya, a Sterile Processing guru and I, the ultimate generalist, took Jim’s data and got ‘er done. I don’t know who gave the final report on site (it was probably the VP), but we came out smelling like a rose, the VP got a promotion and we retained the account.*

Jim, Shaya and I- the three foot soldiers- did our jobs and life went on. That’s what professionalism used to be.

The second story comes from Jim’s personal life. Before I met him, Jim had a long and storied life as a factory worker and union organizer- in Illinois where things often got rough and physical. By the time I met Jim, he was no less committed to his belief that all people truly are created equal and that everyone deserved a fair shake and equal opportunity. He was outspoken about human rights and an avid participant in the democratic process. He was also a devout, church-going person. One day, his religious preference clashed with his personal philosophy, and Jim made a choice.

Jim lived in Texas- a state that often forgets the “separation of church and state” concept inherent in the Constitution. Texas pastors often “lead” their congregations on how to vote concerning candidates and issues. One Sunday, Jim’s pastor was railing on about the pending vote on whether or not to allow same-sex marriage in the state. The pastor was exhorting the congregation to vote against it. Suddenly, Jim stood up, said, “This is bullshit” and walked out of the church, never to return.

That, in one act, was Jim Wall.

So, today, this old man is crying again- tears of sadness for the loss of a dear friend, and tears of joy for having known him.

Rest in peace, my brother.

* Two years after the engagement, a friend of mine called me and told me that he was applying for a job as the leader of the Supply Chain at a hospital in California. I asked him which city and he told me, “S---- B------.” I said, “Blank Hospital,” and he said, “How did you know?” I asked him if he would like to have a copy of the report our team had written. He said, “Yes” and I sent it to him.

A couple of weeks later he called me back. He said that he got the job and that the COO was amazed at how much he knew about the place- all of which goes to show that if you are working with true professionals, you don’t have to be there in person to do a good job.