chapter five
DARE TO CONNECT

My week is shaping up to be a bear, Doug thought as he parked his roadster at the community mailboxes Monday evening. His mind spun a review of the week’s priorities. Monthly financial reports are due at the bank by Friday, the presentation to Global Creations is scheduled for Wednesday, negotiations for the Hollis Brothers supplier agreement must be finalized, and—

“Hey, Roman, how’s it going?”

“Stein, what’s up? What’s new in the CPA world?”

Elliott pushed his glasses back up on his nose. “Not much.” Elliott stuffed his mail into a tattered canvas pack. “I was thinking about heading over to The Cantina for a burrito. Want to join me?”

“You’re on. Do you want me to drive? I wouldn’t want us to get stranded if your, uh, vintage automobile breaks down.”

Elliott laughed at the reference to his dilapidated ‘84 Volvo. “Oh, come on, let’s live dangerously. It may not be the prettiest piece of machinery in the world, but it has a certain charm and it gets me where I’m going. I can’t bring myself to get rid of it when it runs as well as it does.”

A few minutes later, Elliott and Doug entered The Cantina as other sports fanatics settled in for the Monday night game.

“Are you making headway on the leadership legacy journey?”

“I’m not sure,” Doug replied. “So far, we’ve got Adoi, a master gardener. You know all about her. Then I visited Tony, a CEO, and watched him preside over a senior staff meeting that had a few tense moments. He never lost his cool. I’m keeping a journal, but the notes don’t seem to add up to much. You’ll get a kick out of what I’ve got coming up.”

Elliott’s only reply was a questioning look.

“My next stop is Eagle Junction. Can you believe that? This is a leadership treasure hunt. Nan set the guidelines, and Adoi seems to be setting the itinerary.” There was a big cheer as the visiting quarterback threw a pass right into the hands of a home-team defender.

“How’s it doing so far?” Elliott asked as he dabbed futilely at a spot of salsa on his shirt.

“How’s what doing so far?”

“The fern. How’s the fern doing?”

“I took your advice and moved it to the hallway so it gets some light from the skylight. I’ve been pouring some water on it every morning, at least the mornings I remember. It seems to be shedding, and the leaves seem droopier than when I brought it home.”

“It’s not too late, Doug. Try misting it a couple of times a day. Better yet, if you have room near your shower, the warm moisture would be a real treat for it.

Leave it to Elliott to understand the needs of any other living thing.

“So, we know how the fern is doing. How are you holding up through all of this? Nan’s death must have been a shock. The added news of not being named CEO must have been a double whammy.”

Elliott’s pleasant demeanor put Doug at ease. “Some days are better than others. I know Nan wanted the best for Mooseland and me. On the day Nan’s will was read, Tommy pointed out that building a resume is not the same as building a leadership legacy. After I met Tony, I realized what makes an extraordinary leader has little to do with professional background. I’m really trying to discover what Nan sent me to find. Maybe it will all make sense one day.”

Elliott requested more chips and salsa from their server. “The journal is a great idea. I read that writing in a journal ten minutes a day minimizes the risk of stress-related illness. I tell the kids at school to keep a journal. I can’t think of anything more stressful than being a teenager.”

“Elliott, you look young but not that young. What are you doing at school?”

“You’re looking at a bona fide volunteer in the Winton High Career Mentors program.”

“How long have you been doing that?”

“Several years now. I guess I started soon after we moved into our townhomes. Teenagers are in a tough spot. The prospect of making a curriculum choice that may, in turn, become a career choice is pretty daunting. The school’s guidance counselors put together a program that matches students who are interested in a particular field with a career mentor who works in that field.

“Every couple of months they sponsor a ‘Career Mentor Fair’ and a bunch of us show up for an afternoon assembly. We each give a short presentation, and then we’re available for one-on-one talks with kids who are interested in knowing more. These kids are great.”

“Isn’t it hard to communicate with teenagers?”

“I’ll grant you that sometimes you have to listen a little harder than you do with your peers, but you catch on. A lot of times, the kids want to talk to someone who knows more about a particular field than their parents do. You know, ‘What is it really like to be a superhero every April 15?’ and all that.”

Doug smiled at the thought of Elliott in a superhero costume with large CPA letters emblazoned on the front. “I’m impressed. But how do you find the time to be a career mentor? You work full-time-plus at Aberscher and Hutchins.”

“I make the time. For the most part, these kids are bright and eager to do the right thing. It inspires me to spend a few hours here and there helping out. Hey, if you’re not too busy tomorrow afternoon, stop in at the high school around one o’clock. I’ll show you what I mean.”

Doug was intrigued. “You know, I might see you there. It would be fun to see a superhero in action.”

Winton High School

It had been years since Doug had set foot in his alma mater. He had taken off for college and never looked back. Keeping in touch with former high school classmates was never his thing. He was a future-oriented guy. What was the benefit of feigning interest in relationships with people from his past with whom he had nothing in common?

“Hey, Doug, over here.” Elliott’s voice broke Doug’s train of thought. “Is it just me, or do school hallways seem smaller than they did when we were kids?”

“Hi, Elliott. I’d have to say that the entire school seems smaller than when I went here.”

“So, you’re a Winton alum? Congratulations.” Elliott was in his usual upbeat mood as he strode toward the auditorium. “The assembly starts in a few minutes, so let’s go inside.”

A few minutes later Doug was surrounded by noisy high schoolers. He nudged Elliott. “Did we look that young when we were their age?”

Elliott nodded. “Not only did we look that young, I’m guessing we sounded much younger than we thought we did. I think you’ll see what I mean in a minute.”

A guidance counselor brought the noisy bunch to order, welcomed the career mentors, and laid out the game plan for the afternoon. As Elliott had said the previous evening, career mentors would make a few comments, participate in a group question-and-answer session, and then be available at tables set up around the perimeter of the auditorium. Elliott called it a “career buffet.”

“. . . so please welcome our first guest, Elliott Stein.”

Amid whoops, whistles, and applause, a smiling Elliott took the stage.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I’m joining you today from the fantastic world of public accounting!” Doug watched and listened as Elliott gave a quick sketch of his career. Elliott was a hit with the students and they listened intently to his remarks. When he was finished and asked for questions, several hands shot up. Elliott answered each question patiently.

“If I’m bad in algebra ‘n’ stuff, can I still be an accountant?”

“Like, if I became an accountant, like, would I have to, like, wear a suit every day?”

“If you’re an accountant, do you make a lot of money? My parents are making me buy my own car.”

“Can you get a job even if you don’t get all As and Bs in college?”

Doug noticed that in each case Elliott repeated the question before answering it, making sure he understood the student’s question. Once the student nodded, Elliott proceeded with his answer. He showed a vitality Doug was unprepared for: waving his arms, moving around the stage, and telling anecdotes from college and first-job days to illustrate his answers. Some of the questions amused Doug, but Elliott took each one seriously.

Near the close of his portion of the program, Elliott held up enlarged photos of graduates who had gone into accounting and highlighted their successes. He concluded with words of encouragement and an open invitation to visit Aberscher and Hutchins.

“That was great,” Doug whispered as Elliott took his seat. “You made me want to become an accountant.”

“Oh, no, my friend, not so fast. You already have a job.”

“Well, only if the board lets me do it.”

“You’re going to nail it, Doug,” Elliott reassured him.

Later, as they left the school, Doug again asked Elliott about his choice to become a career mentor.

“I have met some great young people, and if I can help someone accomplish something that they might not have accomplished otherwise, I get a rush of satisfaction. You probably know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Doug replied, but honestly, he could not think of a time when he had had a similar experience.

“Your aunt’s unexpected death must have hit everyone at Mooseland pretty hard,” Elliott said. “Have you noticed any differences with your staff?”

Doug answered unsteadily. “We’ve got so much going on, I don’t think they’ve had time to think about it.”

Even to Doug’s ears, characterizing Mooseland employees as people too busy with work to notice Nan was no longer there seemed wrong. It felt unjust to her memory and unfair to the employees, as well. Elliott let it pass.

“Mr. Stein?” a breathless young voice yelled from behind them. “Mr. Stein?” louder and closer this time.

Elliott turned to face a harried student. “Yes, what can I do for you?”

“Hi, I’m Luis and I was wondering if I could, uh, maybe, uh, come and visit you sometime. The thing is, I have a car and everything, but I work after school.”

“Luis, I can appreciate a tough work schedule. Doesn’t leave much time for much else, does it?”

“No, Mr. Stein. Not really.”

“How about if we set up a time some evening or Saturday? Would one of those times work with your schedule?” Elliott dug in his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card. “Give me a call anytime, and we’ll set something up.”

As Elliott handed the card to Luis, Doug saw the now familiar fern emblem.

Well, what do you know about that? I should have known.

A few moments later, Luis and Elliott concluded their arrangements and Luis turned back to the school. Elliott picked up the conversation with Doug without missing a beat. “One of our VPs retired a year or so ago. He was the kind of person who dared to connect with people. He knew a little something about every employee—what part of the country they called home, their favorite sports team, things like that. Sometimes, he would sit down, talk for a few minutes, and really listen to what they had to say, making sure everyone had what was needed to get the job done. Most employees didn’t see him on a daily basis, but everyone noticed a change in the atmosphere when he was no longer here.”

Doug pondered Elliott’s words for a bit. “I guess I’m not really sure how people are adjusting to Nan’s absence.”

“I remember your aunt mentioning how much she enjoyed the Mooseland family. Making genuine connections with people, getting to know them, listening to what they have to say. Maybe she thought that was a critical piece of her leadership legacy. You never know the future effects of such connections, whether you’re there to witness them or not.”

“Yeah,” Doug said again. Until that moment he had never really considered the Mooseland employees to be hisfamily, only Nan’s. Looking back over his years at Moose-land, he had witnessed many occasions in which employees demonstrated their devotion to her. He recalled their tears at Nan’s memorial service and realized that they had lost a beloved family member. He had not respected their loss.

“You know, Elliott, you’re right about a couple of things.”

“Like what?”

“The connection you’re making with these kids will continue to pay dividends. And the connection Nan made with everyone at Mooseland continues, too. Mooseland is a pretty terrific family.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“Oh, by the way, I moved the fern into the shower room last night. It already looks happier.”

Later, at home, Doug checked his messages.

“Hi, Doug, I’m glad you and Elliott got a chance to talk. Give me a call at the garden center tomorrow and let me know how things are going.”

Doug shook his head in wonder. “How does she do that?” he said to the inanimate recorder as it announced the date and time of Adoi’s call.