Memories triggered by a Linked In

The man who gave me my first and second working permits in Switzerland emailed me to ask me to notify other fellow employees about the death of John Ashby, the accountant and office manager. He assumed I'd be in touch with some of the people he wasn't.

I worked for the company from 1990-1993 and it was the second worse job I ever had. The pressure was horrible not from the work itself but from the management.

I'm not a natural sales person and although I always met my number targets all the contracts were short term. A co-worker who had other clients would have 18 month-2 year contracts where mine tended to be 3 months or less. There was one client that asked for the person on a daily basis over the course of several weeks.

Still I felt I built good relationships with my co-workers, clients and the contractors.

As much as there was pressure, the firm was ethical in an industry that often wasn't. And there was a clear line of priorities which helped keep us sane.

1. The contractor's interest come first
2. The client's second
3. The company's third.

At the same time this boss often had his employees crying. I only cried once in the three years toward the end.

To be fair to the boss, he warned me he was difficult to work for and even had me talk with an ex employee who confirmed it.

Staff bonded together and even 20 years later some of us are still in touch, maybe a survival tie. It was through this company that I met my brother-want-to-be RB2.

I ran into the boss on a boat party once and he said that he wondered why I worked so hard?  I told him "I had a contract." He also admitted that my assigned clients made my success in months almost impossible.

Now back to John Ashby. I'd thought of him just the otherday, when I looked at a new apartment building under construction. It had balconies. One of John's first questions to me was "Do you want a balcony?" I was still in Boston waiting for my papers to come through and move to Switzerland and John handled all my transfer details including setting  up an appartment. I ended up in the company flat anyway, but that's another story.

John was a Brit/Swiss, long, lanky a rock and roll lover. He identified Fawlty Towers as a TV show when I explained I'd seen part of a segment once but never caught the name. He was a detail man.

He worked in an office with a glass door and I could tell what language he was speaking by the way he moved his face.

My boss said he thinks a heart attack caused his demise at 64. Too young.

And like all my fellow employees, he was a nice person.