Driving Lessons
August 19, 2014
Many millions of us this summer took to the expressways of North America, and most of us reached our destinations safely. I find myself amazed at how few the accidents are when highways are crowded with hunks of metal traveling at 60, 70 and even 80 miles per hour.
There are three actions on a fast-moving expressway that jeopardize the health of travelers that are like three actions that jeopardize the health of organizations.
- First, if any number of drivers defies heavy traffic or wet pavement, then the well-being of all the others is at risk.
- Second, if just a single car ahead of a crowd of others slams on the brakes, then a chain reaction collision is likely to follow.
- Third, if a driver fails to look around and indicate the intention to change lanes, then those around that car must take evasive actions to escape trouble.
Likewise, organization leaders who move forward too fast without regard to their environment, leaders who suddenly slow down or stop their forward motion, and leaders who fail to consult with those around them and clearly signal their intentions to make a change, put their enterprise at risk.
Lessons for the office, learned on the road.
In An Instant
August 4, 2015
The icebergs that enter the harbors along Newfoundland’s north shore started to form thousands of years ago. They broke from ice flows 10 times their size and then got caught in a current that carried them on a 1,000-mile, two-year journey to “Iceberg Alley.” Some of them drift into harbors and, with seven-eighths of their mass below the surface, they get grounded. Eventually they break apart and disappear.
My wife and I “discovered” one of these grounded ‘bergs near the shore of cozy little Coffee Cove. After a 15-minute hike, we got closer to this sparkling monster than third base is to home plate. We each snapped dozens of pictures.
Just as we were turning to begin our hike back to “civilization,” we heard what we thought was a loud gunshot. But what actually occurred was a portion of the iceberg breaking off and falling into the water.
What we had taken pictures of moments earlier no longer existed as it had at that time. In an instant, the iceberg had changed, without respect for the thousands of years in the making and the hundreds of miles of traveling.
A few days after we returned to Michigan, Rich Tompkins died, apparently healthy, just after waterskiing. Death came without respect for the miles Rich had traveled to serve student-athletes and coaches, and without regard to all the victories his teams had earned and MHSAA championships they had won.
I last saw Rich on Valentine’s Day at the first-ever Fremont High School Hall of Fame induction banquet where Rich and many of his athletes were honored. The pictures taken that night are of people and circumstances that can never be reassembled.
We need to more fully appreciate the miracle of such moments. They can be gone in an instant.