Famous Employees

Every person has a story they forgot to tell. 

Famous Employees is a collection of short narratives about people I worked with—some I understood, some I misread. They are simply people I haven’t forgotten. They aren’t famous in the usual sense, but they left impressions strong enough to shape the way I did my job, and sometimes, how I saw the world.

Some employees are famous for what they gave. Others, for how much they hurt. All of them taught me something about staying human in a system that forgets to be—and will stick with me forever.

Names and identifying details have been changed to protect privacy. These stories are based on personal recollection and are offered with respect and care.

JANE LEE

Jane Lee was a longtime employee who struggled mightily with depression and various health issues. I consulted about her work situation and personal life for over 20 years. She was unable to make good decisions for herself. Toward the end of my employment, her diabetes was out of control. She’d been hospitalized several times. I met with her, trying to help her take charge of her health. She told me her blood sugar got up to 400 at times and seldom under 200. I didn’t know much but I knew this was very, very bad. I knew she was absolutely in danger of dying.

I said, “Jane, if you don’t make a decision to take care of yourself, the decision will be taken from you. Decisions will be made for you because you won’t be able to make them. At this point, you still have a choice.” No truer words were ever spoken. Her mother had passed. She was concerned about her veteran father and adult daughter. I implored her to make different choices and not let things just happen to her. I used my best inspirational skills. Unfortunately, she simply couldn’t act on her own behalf. 

From time to time, I would see her in the parking lot. Jane had a quiet resilience, even if it didn’t always translate into action. Nothing changed. When I left the agency, she thanked me for the work I’d done with her. I was unsure I’d been helpful. She died within two years of my leaving. I knew it was coming. It made me very sad. It was in her hands and only her hands. I couldn’t do it for her.

This comes to me every time I see someone unable to make life affirming choices as I see their time for making them running out. It becomes more poignant as I age.

LEE HYLAND

I cannot let go of the memory of  Lee Hyland. Did I do right or wrong by him? 

I was a civil rights investigator. Lee had both legs amputated as a result of a bombing in Vietnam. As a non-military advisor, he was not compensated nor given a pension after losing his legs. His prosthetics were painful. He filed two dozen complaints against businesses that did not have proper disability parking with my human rights agency. Because I had an affinity for disability access rights, I was assigned to investigate them. 

I had just recovered from my own bout of periodically needing a wheelchair for the prior few years and often walked with a cane. I had my own disabled parking placard to use when required. I had hand controls in my car for when I was unable to walk due to a neurological condition.

Lee lived in south King County. He lived in a condominium with his girlfriend a few blocks from my grandparents where I grew up. I met him there. Lee was always angry. He told me his story. I understood his anger not just for the parking places but for how he was treated by the government. 

The complaints included restaurants and motels. Lee wanted money as compensation. It was not feasible in all cases. In addition to meeting with business owners and fixing the parking deficiencies, I was able to get him $100 settlements or gift certificates. He was unhappy and wanted amounts like $1000. In 1994, this amount was unfeasible. In all cases, Lee had to sign an agreement that the case was resolved. 

He signed many but got ill and was hospitalized before he could sign the final ones. I went to the hospital one evening to meet him to sign the last few. It mattered bureaucratically and in relation to my job. 

I had never seen him in a wheelchair before. He was in hospital attire. He was wheeled into a private area. Of course, he was still angry and in pain. I remember the dark, rain splattered windows. Somehow, I knew he was dying. I felt like scum asking him to take the time to sign these documents when something far more important was going on in his life. 

I knew he wasn’t happy with the settlements but I persisted. I thanked him and said what I knew to be our last goodbye. I had no comfort to offer him. I was not his confident. I felt bad. I still feel bad. I will always feel bad. Did I do right by him or wrong? The jury is still out. In the darkness of that rainy night, Lee remains in my memory. Just writing this still makes tears fall.

It is memorialized by a newspaper article from the time before my agency had any kind of  PR person to field inquires from the press. My manager told me to answer the reporter’s questions:

SEATTLE TIMES

Disabled Veteran Fights For Parking For Handicapped -- Federal Way Man Sees Many Violations

Apr 19, 1994

John H. Stevens

FEDERAL WAY - Touring Federal Way by car with Lee Hyland is seeing the aggravation that many disabled people must face daily.

In a small area off Pacific Highway South, Hyland, who has two artificial legs, finds several restaurants and other public buildings that don't have handicapped-parking spaces that meet legal requirements. One ice-cream shop has no spaces; even the city's school-district headquarters is not in compliance because of the lack of signs.

Hyland is not surprised.

"Able-bodied people just don't want to be bothered with the handicapped," he said.

Hyland said he sees handicapped-parking-space violations everywhere in the Puget Sound area. The problems usually are spaces that don't have signs, are too small or too far from a building's entrance.

He has filed more than 20 complaints with the state Human Rights Commission, the agency responsible for enforcing anti-discrimination laws that protect the disabled. Most businesses fix the problems.

The Federal Way School District office may be next. Told that handicapped parking lacked proper signs, Assistant Superintendent Donn Fountain said he would have them installed. He said he hadn't been aware of the problem.

The school district's prompt response is more than Hyland usually gets; mostly he gets excuses and empty promises, he said.

In one case, he talked to a hotel manager periodically for two years about the hotel's violations before he reported them to the Human Rights Commission. The response by two Federal Way restaurant managers last week was typical, he said.

Joe VanMarter, manager of Cattin's Family Dining on Pacific Highway South, said the restaurant's handicapped-parking spaces, previously near the front door, were being used by nonhandicapped patrons. So he said the spaces were moved behind the building. To be legal, the spaces should be near the main entrance; the spaces also didn't have proper signs.

At Skipper's Seafood 'n Chowder House, next to Cattin's, the spaces didn't have signs because they had been torn down and vandalized, said manager Cathy Allen.

Hyland, who lost both legs below the knee in the Vietnam War, started his one-man campaign in 1990 after moving here from California.

Working as a real-estate agent, Hyland noticed nonhandicapped people using handicapped spaces. Often, he asked business owners to keep the spaces clear, or to put in handicapped spaces that meet state code.

Commission investigator Joceile Moore said there are more illegal handicapped-parking spaces in the state than legal ones.

Many business owners don't know the laws, Moore said, and enforcement is difficult.

With only 19 investigators working on all sorts of discrimination cases, the commission relies on people like Hyland to report violations. The commission has 1,150 active cases related to parking-space violations, a yearlong backlog.

Hyland said there's no teeth in the laws. Until recently, the commission's toughest measure was to force businesses to give complainants such as Hyland up to $1,000 in cash or gift certificates for personal damages. Hyland has won up to $500, but only in a few cases.

Since July, the commission has had the authority to recover a maximum $10,000 in damages for complainants.

RICK CARSON AND CLARA THORNHILL 

The obsession between coworkers can extend to a manager’s conviction that a difficult subordinate is the source of all his problems. Rick focused on Clara this way. I admit Clara had performance and attendance issues. It took me forever to realize that she wasn’t as much a problem for Rick as he thought or that there was a symbiotic relationship between the two.

It started like any performance issue. Rick met with me to report, “Clara’s out again for the third time this week.” “Clara hasn’t completed reports that were due last month.” Clara was his administrative assistant. Rick felt he couldn’t get anything done because of her failures.

I coached Rick on best practices for performance management. I don’t know that he followed my instructions. Regardless, Clara never seemed to improve.

“Clara is out again for her sick kids.” 

“Employees do have to take care of their kids.”

“She could have her mother take care of them.”

“Rick, how she takes care of her kids is not our business.”

Or, “She’s three months behind in completing reports I need.”

“Did you meet with her and lay out a plan for getting them done.”

“Not yet. She’s out all the time.”

Round and round, we went. Rick was a man of average build who wore long sleeved white shirts with a tie. Interestingly, he rolled up his sleeves over his elbows every day. It was his uniform. His arms were muscular. It made me wonder why he didn’t wear shirt sleeved white shirts. It was as if he was demonstrating how hard he was working by hectically rolling up his sleeves. 

I met with Rick every time he called. For some reason, we never seemed to get beyond the point of reprimands with Clara. Rick was convinced his work life would be stellar with Clara gone. Who was I to judge? However, he wasn’t able to manage her in a way that would allow further actions leading to discharge. At times, there was an uptick in our meeting frequency. Other times, the urgency would die down for months.

I met with Clara too trying to get a gage on what she needed and what she was about. She wasn’t as focused on Rick as the source of her troubles as he was on her. She gave me elaborate stories about why her personal life affected her work life all of which was out of her control. 

This cycle continued for years. After I transitioned from general personnel work to specialized reasonable accommodation for employees, I still met with them because Clara had medical issues. Finally, Clara left her employment with an early retirement. I thought Rick would be over the moon. I was astonished when Rick also retired the following year. It was only then I realized that they required each other to make the dance work. Without a partner, there was no one for Rick to dance with. I was a bit chagrined to realize I’d missed the fact she was absolutely essential to his work life. I felt a fool to have not caught on.

SHEROLYN BASS

I was lucky. My work was recognized. Most people’s isn’t. I had flexibility in how I did my work. As long as it was successful, my work wasn’t scrutinized. In fact, occasionally, it was celebrated. 

I did something for Sherolyn. I didn’t remember what. It seemed like something small to me, something I would normally do without thinking too much about it. I know I met with her twice, maybe more. But for her, it was big. This was a testament to how little she’d felt seen. 

One day, the receptionist who opened the mail handed me an official looking letter. It was from the governor’s office. I was able to read it before the HR director snatched it away. The receptionist was expected to direct letters from the governor through her. Later, I was presented the letter in a formal staff setting. I was honored, pleased, and surprised by what it said:

March 21, 2006

Dear Joceile,

I received a highly complimentary email message about you from Sharolyn Bass, whom you helped after she suffered an auto accident. I want to thank you for setting an excellent example of public service.

Sharolyn noted the importance of the role you play as ADA coordinator and applauded the professionalism with which you carry out your duties. She particularly commends you on your positive mindset, your committed follow through, and your compassion. You were helpful in assisting her reintegration into the workplace, and she says you never made her feel as if she was, "just another employee."

Again, thank you for your hard work and dedication. You exemplify why I am so proud of the employees of Washington State.

Sincerely,

Christine O. Gregoire

Governor

The governor signed it, writing out my name with a personal, “Thanks!” Governor Gregoire was my favorite governor. She had started out as a clerk typist, put herself through school, and risen through the ranks. She was sensitive and a perfect role model. I framed the letter and hung it in my office and cubicle for the rest of my career.

The story didn’t end there. Within tw0 years, Sherolyn passed away from something unrelated to her auto accident. It was a shock to her family and coworkers. I went to her funeral in a church. I sat toward the back. It was sparsely attended. I watched the members of her family speak. I didn’t know if I would speak. I didn’t have much to say but the lack of words about Sherolyn was wanting—her kindness needed acknowledgement. I rose up to speak to these unknown people in a thinly filled church.

“I’m the reasonable accommodation specialist in human resources. I worked with Sherolyn. I helped her return to work when she was injured. I didn’t know her very well. She was quiet and kind. She did something special that no one has done before and it made a big impression on me. She took the time to write to the governor’s office to compliment me on my work. The governor wrote to me thanking me. I’ve worked for the state for nearly thirty years. No one has ever done this before. It told me that she’s special. The letter from the governor with her name on it is framed and hangs in my office. I’m sorry she’s gone and that I didn’t get to know her better.”

I didn’t know if it was the right thing to do but it felt right. Afterwards, the family came up to me and told me how much it meant to them that I spoke of her. I never know the impact of my actions. I just try to follow my heart. It works out most of the time as if I’m following a muse or perhaps my better angel.