Access Granted

by Pete Mefford

Overview

none

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781481734509
Publisher:	AuthorHouse
Publication date:	04/03/2013
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	244
File size:	7 MB

Read an Excerpt

ACCESS GRANTED

---

By Pete Mefford

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2013 Pete Mefford
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4817-3451-6

---

Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

Penalty Box

I fell into a burning ring of fire ... and it burns, burns, burns. Johnny Cash

Shirley, my assistant of more than ten years, stepped into my office and said, "Jody's office called and he wants to see you at 1:00 pm."

A married mother of two, Shirley was perhaps the most formidable woman under five feet that you would ever hope to meet. Always professionally attired in a suit and with a short and very neat hair style, she was extremely organized with a time-honored process for every administrative task, and was the "go to" person for every "how to" question anyone had. She was my work partner and she used her authority to guard my time and keep me at optimum efficiency. With only our eye contact, we both knew something unusual was about to happen.

We were housed in the seven story Headquarters building that sat in the midst of what was formerly a country club in far North Dallas. Our company, EDS, had created the Information Technology Services industry in the early 1960's and our Founder, Ross Perot, bought the club and converted the grounds into a campus with two office buildings, a nine hole golf course, and a swimming pool for employees and their families. My corner office, on the fourth floor, looked out on the helipad used to ferry customers and senior executives to their private jets at Love Field in Dallas. Perot, before selling the company to General Motors and later leaving in a dispute with GM management, had his office on the seventh floor. Some of us called him, "Our Father who art on Seven!"

Jody, the Chief Financial Officer, and my boss, had an office suite on six, in the back overlooking the golf course. He and I had a history and it had always been good. Thirteen years earlier, he was the head of a large bank that was our customer and an unhappy one at that. His boss called Perot and complained about our service and our price. I was assigned to solve the problem under the admonishment of, "Do whatever it takes to make it right." Jody and I had resolved the bank's issues by negotiating a new contract that, coincidentally, made us profitable on the account for the first time. Subsequently, the bank failed and after a stint at an insurance company, he found his way to us. I, in fact, had been consulted about his hiring and had supported bringing him into the company.

As the company's first Chief Information Officer, responsible for the internal computer systems, I had a job that I likened to being the man in charge of lawn maintenance at the Snapper Lawn Mower Company. We were now a company of 100,000 employees and almost all of them were more technologically savvy than I. In addition, their varied and contradictory technology opinions often were different from mine and they were not bashful about sharing them. As a result, I was accustomed to being constantly second guessed, but the progress we had made was nothing short of miraculous considering inadequate funding and staffing. My annual evaluations had been excellent and I had been compensated frequently, including a company paid trip to New York City for my wife and me just two months prior.

Almost five years earlier, I had been called to the spacious but not pretentious office of Les, our relatively new CEO and "offered" a new job. When he assumed the CEO role, he initially focused on company performance, rightly so, and did not go for the typical office trappings associated with his position. Les was a few years younger than I and could be described at the time as "well fed". We had both joined the company around the same time and he had made a somewhat surprisingly quick climb to the top. Our relationship was professional but comfortable for both of us. Since he had been given a very challenging job, I wanted to help him, and the company, succeed in any way that I could. Ironically, as a global company that supplied IT service to hundreds of companies and governmental agencies, we had never focused on our internal systems. After we had been acquired by GM, in their effort to both improve their systems capabilities and provide them with another income stream less subject to the ups and downs of the automobile business, it became obvious that our internal systems were sorely lacking. With our rapid growth rate, we had never invested in internal systems and were always playing catch-up. Suddenly GM had expanded our global reach and we were dealing with significant language and currency issues that were completely unexpected previously. Les asked me to become the company's first CIO, or Chief Information Officer, with responsibility for upgrading our systems dramatically. I offered the names of several more qualified candidates and he smiled and said, "This is not just an offer. It's a requirement." And then he said the magic words, "If you do this as well as I think you will, your goal of becoming a corporate officer will be realized."

In the spirit of not being bashful, over the previous 23 years, I had made a point of letting every senior executive know that my personal goal was to become a Corporate Officer. This was not the first time that a similar promise had been made, nor would it be the last.

Jody was one of the few people less technical than I. With his financial industry background and his educational record that included a PhD in Economics, he was much more comfortable with the other areas of his responsibility. Also, with our previous solid relationship, he relied on me to "drive the train" when it came to getting him involved in technology decisions. I suggested at the beginning, with his concurrence, weekly one hour updates with an informal agenda that seemed to have worked for several years. Consequently, I scheduled all meetings except my performance evaluation. He, and others at the top of the company, a group known as the Leadership Council, had repeatedly expressed confidence in not only my results, but also my calm demeanor in solving important and difficult problems.

Jody, who was an All-American swimmer at Southern Methodist University, was still in excellent physical condition and he carefully maintained a meticulous appearance. When I was seated in his office, that although decorated similarly to other members of the Leadership Council always seemed to be about 10 degrees cooler, he began by reminding me of the upcoming "global meeting" that brought together the top four hundred leaders from around the world, to announce a corporate reorganization. This wasn't news. It had been scheduled for weeks and I wondered if I would need to provide some important information that was needed at the last minute. Last minute requests were standard in this company of more than 100,000 employees. As a person who had joined the company when there were fewer than six hundred people, there wasn't much that I had not experienced and my reputation was that surprises did not usually affect me. But, as they say, "there is always a first time."

Jody took a deep breath and said "I have a message for you from the Leadership Council. You are being replaced. They are not satisfied with your performance. At present, we don't know what your next job will be. You will not be fired and your salary will not be cut, but you will never have a significant role in this company. We expect you to turn over your responsibilities this afternoon. You should attend the global meeting, but when the new assignments are announced, you will not have one. Oh, and one other thing. You are not to talk to any member of the Leadership Council about this."

When I asked for the reason for this action, the answer was brief, "That is all I can tell you."

I had been considered a company "insider" for two decades, meaning that I was almost always aware of plans and information that was not available to the majority of employees and certainly not the public. When you have that type of information and can't share it, you feel privileged. As I walked from Jody's office toward the elevator, holding this news in my mind, I felt burdened rather than privileged. I pushed the down button and hoped the elevator would be empty. Someone who knew me well would, by my dour expression, recognize that something was terribly wrong. There was no one on the elevator and a moment later I stepped out onto the fourth floor and quickly walked by Shirley's desk and into my office. Shirley glanced up at me, followed me in and said, knowingly, "How did it go?"

For several years I had one of the most unique offices in the company. Twenty years before, I had a ruptured disc in my back that required surgery; and I discovered that standing was more comfortable than sitting. After many unsuccessful tries, I was finally able to get approval for a stand-up desk. Shirley and I had shopped for all my office furnishings that included a polished oval meeting table with six brown leather chairs and two persimmon-colored, velveteen-upholstered chairs and a low corner table for more intimate meetings. One unexpected benefit of this set-up was that as I worked all day standing up, people who dropped by for a chat were discouraged from hanging around unless I invited them to sit. I slumped into one of the persimmon chairs not wanting to look at Shirley, much less answer her concerned inquiry. I tried to stall.

"Not good!"

"What happened?"

I just stared at the wall with my mouth open, but no words formed in my brain. I was dumbfounded! Just four months earlier Jody had given me an excellent evaluation and a nice raise and now he was saying that not only had I not met expectations, but that I "would never have a significant role in this company!" This did not make sense. Something else was behind this move and I had no idea what it was. Shirley, ten years younger than I, was as loyal as any person I knew and we didn't keep secrets from each other; so I told her to arrange for her phones to be covered, get a cup of coffee, and shut the door. I normally operated with a literal "open door policy" so private meetings in my office always meant either very, very good news or very, very bad news for someone. I knew, based on our time working together, I could talk in confidence with Shirley even if it was bad news. Her two children were a bit younger than most of my four and we had shared numerous personal discussions of the difficulty of parenting and we could read each other like a book!

I replayed what I had heard both to inform Shirley and to verify to myself that I wasn't imagining what I had heard. Her anger was directed at Jody as she verbalized what I was thinking but would never say. My grandmother, who raised me, had instilled in me the discipline of not calling people bad names and even now I withheld the words but not the feelings. I had never been removed from a job before, but I had faced numerous obstacles in the past and my usual response was to confront them head on and to do so quickly. This time I was being directed to take no action and to not initiate contact with anyone who could explain what had happened or why, or act on my behalf to correct it. I was being put into a kind of limbo that had me suspended above some unknown dangerous place with no one I could reach out to. Normally I was quick to convert anger into action, but that was being prohibited for the time being.

As I drove home, I thought of Lyn, the woman I had married just a few years before. She offered such solace to me, and I looked forward to being in her loving presence. Early in our relationship, we promised each other that everything could be and should be shared, and I knew that I could talk about this apparent failure without fear of judgment or condemnation. After I poured us two glasses of Chardonnay we sat down in the keeping room, situated between our kitchen and breakfast nook, to discuss our day as we normally did. Immediately she saw in my eyes that all was not well. Unlike with Shirley, I did not hold my emotions in check. I just dumped my bucket, opening with, "I am so damn mad!" She consoled me without making me feel inadequate, by touching me, looking directly into my eyes and saying, "We both know your true performance and someday EDS will too. Our love is stronger than anything life can throw at us." I had discovered that having a life partner that loves you unconditionally was a most valuable shield against the rest of the world. All of my children were adults and I had no need to update them yet.

Our company prided itself on being expert at holding large meetings to not only communicate strategies, but also to create the atmosphere to execute them. There was energy and excitement as people, who knew each other but did not work together regularly, gathered at our world headquarters, visiting and discussing both business issues and personal situations. Many of us had worked together for years and this was a good time to get caught up on what was going on in each other's lives. Although I'd enjoyed these meetings in the past, this one was a living hell. I managed to dodge most of the personal inquiries and it had not occurred to anyone that someone else would be taking my job. At the end of the second day, before we adjourned for cocktails and dinner, the entire global organization chart would be shown. I didn't want to be there, but I also wanted to make sure that my organization, really my previous organization, would be represented and that other relevant information would be passed along. Sitting in a darkened theatre style meeting room, staring at a polished Power Point presentation, and listening to our CEO give the rationale for all the changes and express optimism about the future, was a surreal experience.

As we gathered in a room that held more than 400 and that had the latest presentation technology, everyone seemed so charged up and I felt completely alone with no one else at the meeting sharing an experience similar to mine. Everyone else was taking notes and thinking about their assignment and the exciting future that awaited them. My mind drifted to a time in my past when my father's father had died at the age of 86. I lived with him and my grandmother and his health was obviously failing. I was thirteen years old and seeing the man of our house decline was worrying. I helped as best I could with his care as well as taking over all the outside chores that my grandmother couldn't handle, including washing our clothes with a wringer washer on the back porch. He died at night in our home and when the hearse came to pick him up, I was hit with the finality of life. Watching two men I did not know wheel his body out the front door, I cried softly at first and then uncontrollably. I was both surprised and stunned, later that night, when my grandmother went to sleep in the same bed in which they had spent the past 42 years. How could she just go to bed as if nothing happened? I remember sitting alone in the funeral home watching his body in the casket and imagining that he moved and that he wasn't really dead. But he was!

Two days later, my father took my grandmother and me to the funeral in his two-tone green 1952 Ford. My whole life had changed in those days and I had been crying almost constantly. As we drove into town, I was appalled that other people were going on with their lives as if nothing had happened. I felt terrible inside at my personal loss, and people I knew just carried on with the normal activities of their lives. Other kids were going to school, stores were open, and my life had just stopped! It was the same here at our global meeting. Everyone else was focused on the positives of the future and I had no future, at least as far as I knew. I had entered the Penalty Box.

After the meeting ended and I had congratulated my successor and handed over to him all pertinent documents, I was at a standstill. Several well-meaning people had inquired about my next assignment and I fumbled through a vague statement along the lines of, "It's still being worked on." I dared not be positive with others, but I was in disbelief that something substantive would not be offered. Shirley and I remained in our respective areas and I tried to be patient. Inside I was an absolute mess! I was already sensing isolation from peers and even colleagues who I thought were close friends. I could not think straight and I continued to replay the events that had transpired, especially the meeting with Jody.

The next week, Jody called. "Ken, whom I think you know, may have something for you. Give him a call."

Duh! I had known Ken for 23 years and had worked closely with him in New York City. He and I had both left the company temporarily during the 70's and had stayed in close contact even during that period. Ken had responsibility for providing IT services to the Oil, Gas, Chemical, Mining, and Pharmaceutical Industries. I was encouraged at the possibility of working with a smart man who had been a friend. My entire career in IT had been based on one thing: If there was a problem that others had tried to fix and could not, then I was asked to take it on. Until now, I had never failed.

When I called Ken, whose office was just two floors above mine, he was a bit evasive at first although he was still as personable as I remembered. He hinted that someone had requested that he "find something" for me but he also seemed to be genuinely happy that I would be joining his organization. As I look back, the unexpected addition of someone to your group, even a person you would like to have, causes some consternation to the leader as well as the other key people who were already there. He was going to have to fit me into an already established organization. I was not in a position to negotiate my next job and when he offered a position similar to what I had 10 years earlier, I eagerly accepted. Only later did I learn the dimensions of the Penalty Box.

One of the constants in my life, of more than 70 years, is sports. I played them when I was young and have watched and followed them since I could read. In all team sports in the United States, there is an authority figure whose purpose is to enforce the rules of the sport and when those rules aren't followed, to impose a personal or team penalty. Ice hockey uses a unique device for this, the Penalty Box. If a player strikes an opposing player unfairly either with his stick or his body, the referee blows a whistle, stopping the game, and banishes the offending player to the Penalty Box. The game resumes with the opposing team having an advantage in number of players on the ice.
(Continues...)

---

Excerpted from ACCESS GRANTED by Pete Mefford. Copyright © 2013 by Pete Mefford. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

---

Table of Contents

Contents

Acknowledgments....................     vii     

Introduction....................     ix     

Penalty Box....................     1     

The Burden of Place....................     13     

Willing To Work....................     45     

Getting Down To Business....................     55     

Go West Young Man....................     77     

It's About The People....................     83     

No Problem....................     115     

Let's Make A Deal....................     133     

Get Creative....................     153     

The Great Escape....................     163     

Mission Accomplished....................     175     

Encore....................     205     

Epilogue....................     221     

Appendix....................     225