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