I have never worked for a monster manager, David B. Grinberg, but I know others who have. My favorite manager had to be my last one (Joel), when I worked at Grossman’s Lumber (before it went under).
He was sure enough of himself to not need to rule by fear; he demanded respect from his team and he gave it back measure for measure. He ran a tight ship, but he had to: Grossman’s was still building stores in the Northeast at that time, and as VP of Construction, he had to know pretty much everything every day. But he was calm, quiet, and fair — and everyone really liked working with him. We always knew he had our back.
He was perhaps the only manager I ever had who knew that I was (still am) not detail-oriented but would work until I dropped if I could have something that was mine to do. Something I could point to with pride. Something beyond typical admin stuff, which mostly bored me to tears.
Admins in the late ’80s didn’t usually get to manage projects, but several times over the five years I worked for/with Joel there were odd projects that needed doing and no one was available.
To my surprise, he asked me one day if I thought I could organize getting one department’s physical stuff moved from one area of our building to another in a week.
Sure, I said. Of course, I said. I can do it, I said.
Then I went into my office, closed the door, and stared at the walls.
What the heck had I just agreed to do?
Move desks, chairs, file cabinets, computers, and all the other stuff from here to there? In a week? Me?
But yeah. Somehow I did. Not out of fear of him, but sort of out of fear of failing him. He and I are still in touch, and I’ll always treasure those few years of working with him. He brought out the best in me and most of the others.
Thanks for letting me remember that time, David.
