Leaving a thumbprint on your life

We all meet thousands of people in our lives. Some we encounter in fleeting moments. The man  we bump into while waiting in line for a burger.  The woman we talk to in line at the post office.  The retail person who helps us pick out the right gift for our wife. The contractor who spends weeks in our house painting and putting up walls. Their impressions on us may come and go like dust on a nightstand. Easily noticed, but quickly wiped away.

Other people spend more time in our lives. Family members. Classmates. Neighbors. Co-workers. People we meet on our daily commutes or at favorite watering holes.  These people usually leave more of an impression on us.  More than we may even realize.

The truth is there are many people in our lives who leave their thumbprint on us.  A mark that is there for life, but not noticed until you look for it.  They may have shaped our outlook on life; taught us skills we will always use; or provided comfort at a critical time.  They leave an indelible impression that we don't notice or appreciate until we are prompted to reflect.

This story is about my former co-worker and friend John, who passed away this week, and the thumbprint he left on me.

The Original News Junkie

John was  a newsman.  He spent many of his early years as a reporter and would fondly recount his days working for the United Press International (UPI) wire service to me.  It's where he got his discipline for writing and his passion for the media. He loved the news. Everything about it. John was the original news junkie.

The Original News Junkie

I met John many years after he left the newsroom, when he was a veteran PR guy for AT&T and I was a young pup still finding my way around corporate America.   John was a well-respected and beloved media relations pro and we became good friends when we both worked in the Corporate Media Relations office for AT&T spinoff Lucent Technologies.

When his daughter called me this week to let me know he had passed away, I thought about John and all the little ways he had helped make me who I am because of the man he was to me.  We hadn't talked in over a year, but ironically, the day before he died I was speaking about him to an executive I was coaching.

Here are three quick stories that tell you about John and the thumbprint he left on me.

1) Media Relations is about Relationships, Stupid.

I never saw anyone who was better at building a relationship with a reporter than John.  He was so affable and friendly. He knew reporters' birthdays, their kids' names, their dog's names, where they played golf, favorite sports teams, etc.  He made a connection. He knew that their professional relationship didn't have to be an adversarial one.  He had lived in a newsroom and knew that world -- the editorial pressures, the changing landscape, how to pitch (not spin).  He was a voracious reader and knew more about reporters and outlets than anyone I have met since.  He was someone every journalist respected and trusted.

Princess Telephone

You can do a lot of "good" media relations with a great story to tell, but try having a "no win" story to defend.  For years, John "owned" the AT&T -- and then Lucent -- Consumer Leasing beat.  Even after Lucent sold the business, the buyer contractually obligated us to continue handling the media relations.  The basic consumer leasing news story went something like this -- "Grandma passed away and her kids discovered she had been leasing her telephone from AT&T and its successor companies for 30 years even after law changes, technology and economics made this seem like lunacy.  The kids discover that Grandma spent $25,000 over her lifetime leasing a "Princess" phone that she could have bought for $25 from RadioShack."  Every consumer reporter's dream story.

John had the talking points and background down pat, and he would talk every reporter through it with credibility -- and without sounding like a heartless bastard.  In the best case, he would talk them out of writing a story.  More often than not, we were satisfied if John could just get our statement into the story -- which he usually did.

2) You're a Leader Now, So Sound Like One

John had seen me grow up as a fresh-faced kid from AT&T and so when I first got promoted to lead part of the Corporate Communications team at Lucent, I didn't know how he would react having to report to me.

The first day of the news, John walked into my new office, closed the door and said, "Let's talk."  He knew it was a tricky situation when your mentee now becomes your boss.  We had a candid talk about how things were going to work.  I had so much respect for him and needed his help, his insight, his support.  He respected me, liked me and was proud to see me get my new position.  We agreed to be very candid and open with each other.  And we also agreed that there would be times when I might make a decision that John wouldn't agree with and that would be my call.  If John had an issue, he respected me -- and my position enough -- to talk to me in private.

After my first big staff meeting, John came into my office, closed the door and put a piece of paper on my desk.  It had all these little check marks on it.  He looked at me. I said, "I don't get it, John. What is this?"

"That is how many times you said  'Ya know' and "Uhm' in your staff meeting." These were engrained verbal crutches that I didn't even notice or hear when I was nervously speaking to a crowd. His point was these people look up to you. If you're going to be a leader, then sound like one.

Today, people like to say feedback is a "gift" in some hokey, corporate posterized motto.  But, for John it really was a gift -- and that was how I received it.  After every staff meeting, I would come back to my office and find a piece of paper on my desk.  Fewer and fewer check marks.  It was our secret.  He made me aware of a weakness and held me accountable to work on it. That was a gift.

3) You have a job to do.  Be a professional

At one time, John and I worked for an amazing woman, Jane, whom we loved.  One day, quite surprisingly, Jane passed away .  We had literally seen her one day, and the next morning we came in to be told she had passed away over night.  It was a complete shock to the whole team.

John was a very dignified man and walked out of the room where we were told the news, and he went quietly back to his office. I went to his office to see how he was doing.

John was sitting at his computer, pounding the keys like it was an old typewriter from his UPI stringer days.  He was writing Jane's obituary and press release.  The message was clear, "This is horrible news, but we're professionals and we have a job to do for Jane and the company."  I pulled up a chair and sat with John as we worked on the obit.  John was the consummate pro.

What impressions will you leave?

Lots of people pass through our lives every day -- and we pass through theirs.  I hope I am leaving some good impressions, some lasting, positive thumbprints on others, the same way John did for me.