by Bob Brown
“Alex, Jason made some valid arguments, things maybe we should reconsider before we make a final decision. In the meantime, if Jason has some equally eloquent alternatives, perhaps we should let him get on with it.”
“Very well,” said Alex. Then to Jason, “So what do you have in mind?”
Jason flipped open his laptop. He reached across the table to where Alex’s laptop was still projecting the last chart from the earlier briefing on the screen at the front of the room. “May I?” he asked rhetorically, as he disconnected the projector cable and reconnected it to his own laptop.
“It’s actually fairly simple,” Jason began. “The way I see it, we can build our business one of two ways. We can pick our clients one at a time and then battle for each ad contract independently. Or we can connect our clients when possible and create a core of customers bound together by shared needs and our advertising expertise.
“Case in point,” Jason continued, as he flashed a diagram on the screen. The diagram depicted a triangle, with Jagged Edge clients labeled along two sides and at the apex. Jagged Edge appeared as the base of the triangle.
“Jagged Edge just recently closed a multi-year ad deal with Chamberlain, a commercial shipping company looking to expand. What does Chamberlain need most? New customers. Now it just so happens that Jagged Edge is also exploring deals with Red Rock, as you know, and with Banger Ale, one of the top ten beer manufacturers west of the Mississippi.”
Jason saw the faces light up around the table as it began to register with everyone what his diagram represented.
“Tricia is working the Banger Ale deal. I’d move Red Rock over to Michael. I would continue to work with Chamberlain. I’d suggest that we first encourage Red Rock to enter a legitimate branding arrangement with Banger Ale. We use Chamberlain as the apex of the triangle to provide shipping services to both Banger Ale and Red Rock. I’m sure we can get all three to see the benefits of the arrangement, and there should be plenty of cost savings and revenue growth to spread around.”
Then Jason landed the knock-out punch. “As the agency representing all three companies, we stand to profit significantly in two ways. First, from the value of the resultant ad contracts. Second, and perhaps more importantly, from the goodwill and synergy derived from bringing three companies together in what will likely prove to be a highly profitable arrangement. I suspect that all of these companies are associated with other companies in need of our services.
“It will be like throwing a rock into a pond and watching the ripples spiral outward.”
Jason sat down.
Alex was first to respond. Again. “Well, Jason, it appears you have given this quite some thought after all. I must say you make a convincing argument.”
At least Alex was using ‘Jason’ again.
Alex got up and walked over to Jason’s side of the table before continuing. She obviously had something else on her mind. Pointing at the screen, she continued.
“Are you saying that you’re willing to turn over one of your most significant clients to Michael at the loss of the commission on a potential million dollar ad deal?”
Jason found he was increasingly annoyed by the single-minded focus on money that seemed to underlie every decision in the company. But he was well aware of what he had proposed and was ready with his response.
“Michael has been here longer than I have. He has more knowledge of the customer and has already closed several deals with beverage companies. It just makes sense. As to the commission, I trust that when the time comes, you’ll do what’s right.”
Red Rock was a done deal. More importantly, Jason felt he had taken a step that might, over time, change the way business was done at Jagged Edge.
*****
Back in his office, Jason closed the door. He kicked off his shoes, sat down in his chair, and assumed his favorite position, feet planted in the center of the desk. Then he closed his eyes and silently prayed.
“Thank you, Lord, for blessing me with the wisdom to make a difference in this place today. Amen.”
Like his presentations. Short and to the point.
Chapter 31
The next five years passed quickly. Business was good, and Jagged Edge grew. Jason was promoted first to Senior Account Manager, then to Director of Accounts. He now had five Account Managers reporting to him, including Michael and Tricia. He had his corner office.
As business grew, so did the pressure. Alex and Sam never paused to celebrate the past. To celebrate would mean slowing progress, falling a step behind. A step behind meant someone else was a step ahead. That would never do.
So in the corner of his desk Jason had a plaque that helped keep him focused when the stresses of work weighed heavily on him. The passage on the plaque was from 2 Peter 1:5-8:
‘Make every effort to add to your faith, goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.’
The passage also helped Jason to conduct business with a level of integrity apparently uncommon in the advertising industry. As a result, once word got around that Jason was offering that odd combination of vision and values, much of his new business actually came knocking at his door.
'Like ripples from a stone thrown into a pond,' thought Jason.
Not surprisingly, Jason still had little success convincing Sam and Alex to adopt his Christian ideals as a core business strategy. But he was willing to accept circumstances as they were for the time being, thankful that at least success brought with it a certain autonomy. As long as he continued to produce results, Sam and Alex seemed content to let well enough alone.
*****
“Hey, anybody home?” Kyle yelled.
“We’re out here,” came the reply.
Kyle closed the front door behind him, passed through the entry into the kitchen, then shuffled through the family room onto the balcony. He found Jason, Tub, and Susan standing at the rail, looking across the rooftops toward the ocean.
“Hey, buddy,” Jason said as Kyle joined them.
“Hi guys.” Kyle shook Tub’s hand and gave Susan a hug. He slapped Jason on the back.
“Nice view, huh?” asked Kyle. This was directed at Tub and Susan. It was their first visit to Jason’s new condo.
After Jason’s second promotion, he figured it was time he look for something more permanent than the apartment he had been renting in Mission Hills for almost six years. It had served its purpose while he was trying to establish his career and create some stability in his job. Besides, he had spent a fair amount of time traveling during the early years, and he hadn’t had the time, money, or desire to buy into the increasingly expensive San Diego real estate market.
But now that he was more established, it just made sense to get the condo. Besides, he was a legitimate advertising executive. Executives didn’t live in apartments.
Jason and Kyle had shopped the local market off-and-on for several months, focusing on two and three bedroom condos in the beach communities north of downtown San Diego. They had found this unit in Ocean Beach through a friend of Kyle’s. Nineteen hundred square feet, two bedroom plus study, two bath, three years old. It was a second floor end unit with a spectacular view of the Pacific Ocean less than a mile away.
“I’ve got the stuff downstairs in the truck,” Kyle said.
“Tub, how about you and Susan start laying out the tarps in the master bedroom,” suggested Jason. “I’ll help Kyle bring up the stuff from the truck.”
“Will do,” replied Tub.
It was a Saturday morning and the three friends had gathered to help Jason paint his new condo. Jason had already picked up the supplies he could manage in his car. The rest he ha
d paid for in advance and asked Kyle to pick up with his truck on the way over.
Outside, Jason dropped the tailgate and unloaded three five-gallon containers of paint. Kyle reached over the side and grabbed the step ladder and the extension poles.
“Thanks again for helping me out with this,” said Jason. “It probably would’ve been easier to just pay someone to do it.”
“No problem. Besides, if you’d paid someone, you’d have missed all the fun we’re going to have making a mess of your new place.” Kyle was grinning as he shouldered the ladder and grabbed the poles in one hand and a pail of paint in the other. Jason grabbed the other two pails.
For the next two days the four painted as if they had all the time in the world. Progress was much slower than Jason had expected, partly because Kyle insisted on taking a beer break every thirty minutes and partly because Tub spent most of his time painting caricatures on the walls instead of doing any real work.
Whatever the reason, Jason didn’t mind. He was more interested in enjoying the company of his friends than he was in finishing the job.
*****
“Hey Jason, come look at this.”
It was Kyle. He was painting in the study, where Jason had already hooked up a TV and the stereo he had brought from his apartment. The stereo had been playing all day, but Kyle had turned it down and was turning up the volume on the TV as Jason entered the room.
“…confirming earlier reports that two tornadoes touched down east of Tulsa shortly after 5 PM on Sunday. There is heavy damage, and we have reports of casualties in the communities of Homestead, Rock View, and Elk Ridge. We go now to a live report from Brad Stiles at station KTUL in Tulsa. Bryan, what can you tell us?”
Jason just stood staring at the TV. The streaming banner at the bottom of the screen kept repeating ‘Deadly tornado east of Tulsa kills dozens’.
“Well, Stephanie, I can tell you that just over two hours ago, at 5:32 PM local time today, two tornados ripped through the center of three communities east of downtown Tulsa. There was little in the way of advance warning. Although thunderstorms had been forecast for later tonight and high winds were expected around midnight, there was virtually nothing to indicate the presence of tornadoes in the area this afternoon. The only apparent good news at this point is that the tornadoes struck on a Sunday. If this had been a normal work day, the roads would have been jammed with commuters heading home, and the death toll would have been much higher.”
“What do we know about casualties?” asked Stephanie Lawrence, the news commentator for the San Diego ABC affiliate.
There was a brief pause, while the on-scene reporter pushed the audio earpiece further into his left ear. “Stephanie, there are twenty two confirmed dead and many more dozens injured. But we caution that these are just preliminary numbers and likely to increase. Right now teams of rescue workers are just beginning to pick their way through the rubble in some neighborhoods, and reports are just starting to come in from local hospitals.”
“Thank you, Brian.” Jason watched as the TV picture switched back to Stephanie in the local studio. “Again, for those of you just joining us, we have been reporting live from Tulsa, Oklahoma, where two tornadoes touched down earlier this evening Tulsa time. There are at least twenty two known dead and dozens injured. Damage is expected to be in the hundreds of millions. We will continue to cover this story as more information becomes available. In the meantime, back to local news.”
Sometimes it seems that all of human existence can be summed up in a single word: Fear. It’s not that fear is necessarily a bad thing. Fear keeps us alert. It helps us avoid making mistakes. It often inspires us to do more than we might otherwise have believed possible.
But there is also a visceral kind of fear. The kind that rips out your soul and strips bare any sense of well-being. The kind that leaves you naked in your helplessness. This was the kind that Jason suddenly felt.
Kyle reached up and turned the volume all the way down. Then he saw the concern on his friend’s face. He needed to ask the question. “Jason, where exactly do your folks live?”
“Homestead.”
Jason had already hit a speed dial number and had his cell phone to his ear. As Kyle watched, he punched in a second number and waited. Nothing.
Jason was unable to reach his parents, either on their cells or at their home phone number. Everything just rang busy. He wasn’t immediately alarmed, figuring there may have been cell towers damaged and overhead lines torn down by the tornadoes.
Next he tried two of his uncles who lived in Stillwater, about an hour west of Tulsa. Same result.
Then he called directory assistance for Tulsa and asked for the number for the hospital which he knew to be closest to where his parents lived. He got through to the switchboard, but he was told that all queries to the emergency room or for patient information were being transferred to a public relations number. That number also rang busy.
Becoming increasingly agitated, Jason plopped himself on the floor in the study, watching the now-silent TV. It was still broadcasting local news.
Sensing his friend’s frustration, Kyle flipped the channels looking for more information on the tornadoes, finally settling on CNN. But even there the story was on some terrorist explosion in Indonesia. It seemed there was little interest in the tornadoes in Tulsa.
Tub and Susan wandered into the room, wondering why things had gotten so quiet. Kyle filled them in on what they had learned from the TV news broadcast.
“I’m sure your folks are fine,” offered Susan. “There’s always a lot of confusion when something like this happens. They’re bound to be in touch as soon as they get phone service.”
“Thanks. You’re probably right,” was all Jason could manage.
As if on queue, Jason’s cell phone rang. He looked at the number, flipped it open, and put the phone to his ear. The three remaining friends listened intently to the one-sided conversation. There were long silences during which they could only imagine what was being said on the other end of the phone.
“This is Jason.”
“Yea, uncle Bill, I tried you earlier. Been watching it on the news.”
“How long ago?”
“Are you sure?”
“Where are they?”
“I know. Me, too. I’ll call you as soon as I know. Call me if you hear anything else.”
“OK. Bye.” Jason closed his phone.
There was silence in the room. Slowly, Jason rose to his feet and crossed to the only window in the room. He stood and stared across the parking lot, at nothing in particular.
“That was my uncle. My parents are dead.”
Chapter 32
Jason flew to Tulsa the next morning. It was a Monday morning, just like any other Monday morning. Except his parents were dead.
He had wrapped up the painting party within minutes of talking to his uncle, thanking his friends for their help and promising to keep them informed as more information became available. Then he had asked Kyle to lock up, handed him the condo keys, and had driven home to make some more phone calls and pack in peace.
Kyle had offered to drive Jason to the airport, or even accompany him to Tulsa, but Jason just wanted to get out of town with as little conversation as possible. He knew his friend meant well, and he appreciated his concern. But right now no reassurances of God’s plan were going to make him feel any better. None of Kyle’s spiritual wisdom was going to bring his parents back.
*****
Jason called Sam during a layover in Dallas and told her about the death of his parents. The rest of the call did not go well.
“Alex and I are so sorry about your parents, Jason. How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
“Hard to say. Probably a couple of weeks.”
“Well, you know we’ve got the presentation for Pearson Pneumatics on Thursday and the negotiation with the group from Bannister on Tuesday next we
ek. Any chance you can get back for those?”
“Not likely.”
“Jason, I can appreciate your situation. But you also have responsibilities here. Let me just tell you…”
Jason was already wound pretty tight. He exploded over the phone before Sam could say any more.
“No, let me tell YOU!” he shouted into the phone, causing a number of other passengers in the terminal to look at him in alarm. ”I have a responsibility to my parents and to the rest of my family. The rest of that stuff can wait. YOU deal with it!”
Jason snapped his phone shut. Breathing hard and still seeing red, he grabbed his bag and headed to the boarding gate.
Jason arrived in Tulsa around noon and was picked up by his uncle Bill. They visited the funeral home where his uncle had arranged for his parents to be sent. Then they drove over to the old neighborhood. During the drive, Jason’s uncle told him that the tornadoes had leveled the equivalent of fifty blocks of residential neighborhood and killed thirty four people, making for the second worst tornado disaster in Oklahoma history, behind the tornadoes of May 1999. The cleanup and rebuilding would probably take a decade to complete.
Jason spent four hours sifting the rubble of what had once been his childhood home. He looked for pictures, family albums, keepsakes, anything of value. He found some old baseball bats and gloves, one of his high school varsity letters, a couple of photos, some odd pieces of jewelry, and a few other keepsakes. But mostly there was nothing -- barely enough for two cardboard boxes. Not much to show for a lifetime.
*****
On Monday night, Jason finally returned one of the many calls he had received from Kyle. He was sitting in his hotel room, watching ‘Dancing with the Stars’ with no sound. It seemed odd that anyone would be dancing when what seemed like half of Tulsa had just been wiped from the face of the earth.
“Hey, buddy,” said Kyle, as he picked up on Jason’s call. I know you have a lot going on, but I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you.”
“Thanks.”
“Anything I can do for you? Anything at all?”