Mr. Kay

Yesterday a VP from Chicago was expected to visit, so I dressed up more than usual…white dress shirt, grey slacks, and nice loafers.

My desk is near the back of our office, near to the door to our small warehouse. Close to lunchtime I heard the two ladies seated near the front windows say an old man in an old pickup had driven up and was at our locked door, reading the various messages. Sue and Renee said that since he didn’t have flowers, they weren’t opening the door. The man never rang the doorbell, instead getting back in his truck and driving around to the back of the building, as the sign instructs drivers to do who are picking up metal. I heard the chatter, but my focus never strayed from my laptop.

A few minutes later the door to the warehouse opened just behind me. When this happens I always listen to see who it is. It was a voice I didn’t recognize, so I turned around and immediately recognized the “old man” – Gordon Kay, the retired CEO of our company. When I started with Tull Metals, Mr. Kay was President. Since the company was smaller then and we were both at the Norcross complex, he knew me. We also had a connection…he went to Clemson, where Ceil had gone to school. Years ago I ran into him before a Clemson football game. When Tull merged with Ryerson, he eventually became CEO of the entire company, and spent a lot of time in Chicago.

I immediately hopped up to greet him. Turned out he was picking up a piece of steel plate for a friend, so we went out to the warehouse to track it down. The warehouse manager was at lunch, but a plant worker picked up the small plate and put it in Mr. Kay’s truck. I told Mr. Kay not to bother, but he insisted on paying for the material. While I looked for the order in the computer, Mr. Kay went over to greet my coworkers. In his usual mild mannered fashion, he only said he used to work here, never saying how important he was. He asked if I still went to Clemson games, and we discussed the recent football season. He was not aware Steve Apostel had moved to the Orlando office. I never found the order, and was unable to convince Mr. Kay that he didn’t have to pay. He signed a blank personal check and handed it to me, saying he trusted me.

Later I tracked down the Sales Manager who had coordinated the order. He had told Mr. Kay there would be no charge, and didn’t bother to enter an order, since that would’ve been more trouble than it was worth.

The VP never showed, of course. But at least I was wearing the old Tull “uniform” when Mr. Kay showed up.