Editor’s note: Former Herald columnist Larry Simoneaux, who moved to New Orleans last year, recently posted one of his past columns from several years ago to Facebook. We thought it appropriate to repeat it in recognition of Labor Day.
By Larry Simoneaux
For The Herald
Funny how life works.
Just when you think you’re getting a handle on it, something happens that makes you realize you still have a ways to go in the “understanding it all” department.
Here’s an example:
A while back, I received a letter from a woman I briefly met while still in uniform with the Coast Guard.
At the time, I was stationed at National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration headquarters and was responsible for recommending assignments for other officers. After 20 years with the Navy, I served with NOAA Corps, former the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey.
For those of you who’ve served, yes, I was one of the (blindfolded) guys you swore threw darts (with names attached) at a board on which jobs were listed. By so doing, mechanical engineers from the East Coast got to work as cooks in Alaska.
Anyway, the woman now lives in California and she wanted to thank me. She said that something I’d done had changed her entire life.
Seems that back in 1988, she was up for her first shore assignment. She’d called me to ask about several jobs that were available. After talking with her about her interests and looking at the available openings, I recommended her for a position at a research laboratory.
She went and ended up doing some interesting work in the field of physical oceanography.
Several years later — after leaving NOAA — she decided to attend graduate school. The work she’d done at the laboratory caught the eye of a scientist at the university to which she’d applied. This scientist invited her to work with him. She accepted the invitation and went on to earn her doctorate in a field that fascinated her.
While she was plugging away at the university, she met a young man who was in the same program. They fell in love and married. She became an established and respected scientist at a major university on the West Coast. Her husband worked at the same university.
All of this came about, according to her, because of that recommendation I made back in 1988. I’d love to say that, back then, I had a crystal ball and saw all that was going to come to pass, but that wouldn’t be true.
Try as I might, I remember neither the conversation nor the recommendation. A mind of my age coupled with the fact that there were 400 other officers to deal with make things that happened back then a wee bit fuzzy. Too, I have this deep and abiding sense that everything this woman accomplished has its roots more in her ambition, hard work, intelligence and talent.
Still, it got me thinking.
What if I’d been having a bad day? What if I’d simply made the recommendation based on plugging holes (the dart board theory) rather than trying to fit someone into the best job available?
Nobody would’ve been the wiser. Nobody would’ve seriously questioned me. Work would’ve still gotten done. The sun would’ve risen in the East and set in the West. The woman in question would’ve probably done just as well, but (really big “but” here) the sequence of events set in motion that day would’ve never come to pass.
In my own defense, I tried to avoid the dart-board scenario. Some days it was pretty straightforward. Here’s an empty position. There’s the time frame in which it needs to be filled. This is a list of who’s best qualified and available.
Ask anyone who’s ever worked in personnel. Some days it worked. Some days it didn’t. It certainly wasn’t rocket science. You made the call and hoped for the best. For sure, it never seemed life-altering.
My mistake.
Every day, we toss stones into the water, and the ripples they produce go on forever. Lord knows whom they’ll touch or where they’ll finally end up.
We do this thing and it affects that person; sometimes in ways we can’t imagine.
In 1988, I answered the phone, talked about openings, read some files, and wrote a recommendation.
It’s nice to have someone who thinks I made a difference for the better in her life.
More worrisome, though, is the other side of the coin. Now I wonder about the times I’ve rained on someone’s parade without knowing it.
It’s tough getting ourselves to think — let alone believe — that there are times when the smallest things we do can change lives.
Apparently, though, it’s true.
Because of this woman’s letter, from now on, I’m going to try to be more careful. Being eminently human and remarkably oblivious, I probably won’t succeed.
But it’s a scary enough thought to make me want to try.
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