Tuesday, February 19, 2013

A Friend for Life



Sarge fell off his roof after Katrina. He didn't survive his injuries. He was an ebullient and well muscled man with an easy smile and a great laugh. I hesitate to say he was short of stature because he was a big man in many ways. For the record he was a brother (southern for African American). I began work at Louisiana Transit in 1975. Hired as safety director. The company was going to go under if our accident record didn't improve. Back then paying $250,000 a year for auto liability was a lot. Any more and we wouldn't be able to buy insurance. I took the job seriously and got into it with bus operators who knew a lot more about operation than I did. They didn't like being told what they were doing was mis-guided. Especially from a kid. I was in my late 20s and had been in the Air Force but was viewed as wet behind the ears. I was trained as an operator because that's the way things were done at Louisiana Transit. But everybody knew I was green. The problem was we needed to drive more defensively. I had to get that point across. I struggled to get their respect. Unlike other supervisors I didn't run from anybody when they threatened me but I needed to build bridges of trust.

Sarge was a 25+ year army retiree. He did things his way. He was loud and he was direct. The riders either loved or hated him, there seemed to be no middle ground. He gave orders to the Jesuit High kids getting on at Carrollton and Tulane on the Airport Express, which he drove daily. Told them to line up orderly and have their fare in their hand when he opened the door or he wouldn't open the door. Some people didn't like the tone of his voice. Back then a black man dictating to white kids rankled some people. The kids thought it was kind of funny. Of course they thought everything was a joke outside Jesuit including acting a fool when they boarded. They needed a little comic relief but Joe would have none of it. The kids got the message and lined up when they saw he was driving. The word was out. You didn't mess with Sarge, or you walked home.

When I first went to work I re-ordered the duty roster when somebody called in sick. Joe (what his friends called Victor Joseph or "Sarge" to his riders) had been in an accident recently and was taking a few days off. The word was he was milking an insurance claim because he had been rear-ended. Most of the operators would get a check with a release to sign that they had settled all claims arising from an accident. It was cheaper for the insurance companies to pay a little cash out to get a release. Lowered their reserves. The riders all did the same, of course. Automatically injured to get a quick check. So the supervisors treated him badly and considered him a malingerer. We never had enough operators even with a 7 man extra board. Back then we ran charters along with line service. A lot of charters. When King Tut came to town we ran 30-40 charters on top of our regular schedule each Saturday and Sunday. We had all the NFL teams. We hauled the Saints around. Did Superbowls. It was busy.

My family taught me to treat people with dignity and respect. It's an interesting theory some people have that others don't deserve respect. That's not what I was taught. I also grew up smaller than average. By the time I was grown I was bigger than average but growing up I was younger than most of my peers. I learned not to lip off. The brothers will tell you that being weak can get you killed. We all also know being strong also gets you killed but you die with respect. My life was always a bit better when I was friendly than when I was contentious. I didn't feel I had to buffalo people to get respect. Having a good family and being taught how to act helped me enormously throughout my life.

It was toward 5:00 pm on a weekday when Sarge called to book off. He was used to speaking to Byron, the Operations Manager who gave him a hard time. Byron gave everybody a hard time and loved Sarge though at the time Sarge was put off by being accused of malingering. What many people might not have guessed was that Joe's back was hurting him. In any case, I was the new guy and Joe knew I was giving everybody a hard time about their driving record and well, Joe's driving record needed improvement. He drove too fast. Our schedule was impossible to keep but still, he drove too fast. He fully expected me to give him a hard time about booking off because we were constantly short. He was curt with me and told me had to have off. I don't know what he expected but I told him in all sincerity that I hoped his back felt better and that I'd book him off as long as he wanted me to until he made a full recovery and we were all hoping he felt better soon.

He didn't say much, just kind of grunted. I think he was actually put off and surprised at my attitude. He wasn't used to being treated as a family member. A few days later when he came back to work he was pretty quiet as he got ribbed by the other drivers for sand-bagging it to collect a check. After things calmed down he started coming by the operations office to just say a few words to me now and then. Ask how I was doing. Tell me a quick story about his day. Since he got a lot of customer complaints about being abrupt, I had to counsel him now and again. I always asked for his cooperation and again, treated him with dignity and respect. 1975 marked the first year of a 30 year friendship with Victor Joseph. He always came in to talk to me when he had the time. He always treated me as an equal even though he was much older and knew a lot more about transit than I did. When I was having it out with a recalcitrant operator, Joe would back me. After a while I realized he would be my friend for life. The cost? Being nice to him. If only that one small lesson could be learned universally. All people want is to be treated with dignity and respect. To be given the benefit of the doubt. To ask how they are once in a while and give them a smile. What power we have to heal each other. I was repaid almost daily for three decades for that one minute of kindness. From a few short words to a man who appreciated being shown some respect. Didn't cost me anything. I can't express how much I valued Joe's good opinion. He was a retired Army top sergeant and tough as nails. Not an ounce of fat on his body. After he retired from being a bus operator (his eye sight wasn't too good in his 70s or he would have worked until he dropped) he came by to talk every few months. Katrina killed a lot of people both directly and indirectly. Joe was fixing his own roof and slipped. He went quickly and hopefully without much pain. And he went working at something, which was his way. I will always remember him as a friend and with great respect and dignity. Victor Joseph was my friend for life.

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