Good morning. I know you are here to read some words about sounds, but today I’d like to go off menu and reshare the story below. Today marks 15 years since Richard Hulsizer’s death. It was workplace-related, grisly, and a cold, hard reminder that our relationship with our employer is almost always a transactional one.
Time usually flies by, but it always stands still when I see his picture or hear his name. Time supposedly lessens the sting, but never really eliminates it.
Mostly, I just miss my friend.
KA—
I have spent the last few weeks rooting through boxes, looking for pictures of my time as a drummer. I could’ve sworn I had at least one or two, but I’ve got nothing so far. I haven’t found any (yet!), but I did come back across one that always stops me in my tracks.
I assure you I’m not turning this into a “tales from the office” newsletter—I know you’re here for music. But if you’ll indulge me in one more story from my workplace, I want to share the story of my friend Richard Hulsizer.
The airlines were a second career for Richard. He joined us after having just retired from the United States Post Office. He and his husband dreamt of seeing the world; joining us at (then) Northwest would be their way to do it.
If you’ve ever been a manager/supervisor/whatever, you learn to quickly assess whether or not someone will be a good fit for your team. In a line station like mine, those good and bad qualities can be magnified—in case of conflict, there’s simply nowhere else to go.
He fit right in from the start and was the kind of person you are happy to see show up at your gate. He was hardworking, sure, but also friendly and frankly funny as hell. I should note that he was a great baker who often brought cookies in.
I should also note that I often ate more than my share.
I’d like to have ended this story with another retirement party, with the usual balloons, sheet cake, and hugs. This isn’t that story, though. For Richard, there would be no second retirement or years spent exploring the Greek Isles. Instead, I am writing this close to the 13th anniversary of his death due to a workplace accident. This was not a “good death” (whateverthehell that means), and it wasn’t quick, either.
In writing classes, they tell you you’re supposed to have some big takeaway or silver lining. A lesson learned that you could wrap up in a pithy ‘final thoughts’ paragraph. Cool. I can tell you that I learned OSHA has a robust reference library, that they will lend you any materials you may want or need, and that the people I met there truly have the best interests of workers at heart. I can tell you that the 4 minutes it takes to drive from their office back to my house feels like 400 miles.
I can also tell you I wish I’d never had to learn it existed, and that I miss my friend.
Companies also like to refer to employees as ‘family’ until they think your family might sue them. Then it’s all business with an occasional whisper campaign thrown in for good measure, and it's incredible how fast that 180 happens.
I mention this to share a few points:
First, every action has a consequence. Sometimes they’re good, and sometimes not, but nothing happens in a vacuum.
Next, it’s easy to become complacent at work and at home. Please make a concerted effort to approach your shift and/or day with intention, even if only for today. That extra second or two could make all the difference.
Third, dreams deferred are dreams unrealized. People re-prioritizing their lives in the wake of COVID is still a popular topic these days, and there is no shortage of think pieces and/or hot takes plastered all over the ‘net. It’s easy to let real life get in the way. I’m as guilty of it as anyone, but no one’s promised tomorrow.
Book that trip. Rip the occasional heater. Make food for your coworkers.
Also: If someone in your office brings cookies in, make sure to thank them, even if you don’t eat them.
Thanks for being here,
Kevin—
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P.S. Have you seen Salon Du Monde?
Beautiful...and so sad.
Thank you for this - beautifully written.