Monday m was a new world. I arrived at work at my normal 7:45am. I
office. When I arrived, he was loading his personal effects into a box. A
fatherly pep talk before I left him to finish his pag.
voice sounding like the cheery, fatherly man I had grown to know and
that Mr. ell was retiring blah blah blah and that the pany was in
The news hit me like a ton of bricks though I tried not to show it on my
cold chill ran up my spine. "Jake e on in" Mr. ell offered, his
grey eyes. In his pictures he wore a dark suit that ore than my first
VP of IT Services under Mr. ell. Unfortunately, all hell broke loose.
His eyes betrayed some remorse and sadness.
From his picture Mr. Charles Withersby was a handsome professional man. A
WCS for years aed directly to Mr. ell. I was in lio bee
car with a white starched shirt with French cuffs and a blue
Withersby was a London high born and was used to British class crap. I
ge. Corporate policy dictated that we wore suits and ties, even on
By the time I returo my desk there anywide email explaining
Friday' s. When it was just ell we had dress down days on Friday' s but
o be early as I rode my bike and wore my bike leathers. I had my
respect. "Well Jack the time has e for me to get gone" he said brightly.
great shape blah blah blah. I was depressed and fused.
face. I had a great w relationship with Old Man ell and this was
suit and tie ly packed in a bag and headed to the locker rooms to
It was a Friday afternoon in early November. Mr. ell asked me into his
never met the man but seeing his pictures on corporate unications sort
now that it e dressed. I think part of the reason was that Mr.
rugged looking guy with medium blond hair, ly shaven, with greenish
going to hurt. I sat and talked with Mr. ell and he gave me his normal
of gave me that indication.