When I first got into management in the grocery industry, I was placed in an area of Los Angeles that, to say the least, was a bit on the diverse side of things. Well, diverse isn’t really correct, I was one of maybe three or four whites that were working in the district. I knew nobody and had no one to commiserate with about any issues that would normally arise in the grocery business.
On my first day I got a phone call from another Assistant Manager from a store that was close by. Keith introduced himself and offered his assistance in anyway he could help. It was very nice of him and I started depending on him immediately. I would call Keith at the drop of a hat asking about anything I had any questions about. If I needed product, Keith would supply it from his store. If I needed directions to a meeting or to another store, Keith would get me the info I needed. He truly helped me find my way in an area I knew nothing about. Keith and I would go to lunch when we could and sometimes dinner if we were working late. He became a friend and we seemed to get along real well. Keith was about a year younger than I and we had a good amount in common.
When I was transferred to a store in Redondo Beach, Keith was transferred to a store in Torrance that was close by. Shelly, my wife at the time, started working in the area and got to know Keith as well and we would sometimes all meet for lunch and just have a nice time together. We all got along real well. When Shelly and I moved to northern California I stayed in touch with Keith and would meet with him whenever I could while visiting down south and would often talk to him via phone from whatever store I was working at in the northern part of the state.
When I left Vons I didn’t talk to Keith as much as before and after my divorce I had lunch with him once and then moved out of state. I haven’t talked to Keith in almost five years. Shelly let me know that he left the company and I hadn’t heard anything about him since then.
Shelly sent me a text message the other morning telling me that Keith had a massive stroke in his sleep and that he had no brain activity. They were taking him off life support, she thought, that day. Keith was 47 years old and had a 15-year-old daughter. I know this piece doesn’t have any kind of flow and it may not be one of my better pieces grammar wise but I just wanted to get a quick message out to all of you.
My friend died the other day and I don’t think I ever told him how much he helped me during a major transitional time in my life. Once again, someone has slipped through the cracks of my existence without getting the proper credit he deserved from, in this instance, me. So the message I want to give to all of you is the same as I’ve said before and I don’t want any of you to forget it: Thank you for being who you all are. You have all done more for me than I could ever put in words and I will be forever grateful for every moment I have had the immense pleasure of knowing each and every one of you. I can’t stand the idea that Keith never knew how important he was to me at a very critical stage of my life and I don’t ever want to make that mistake again.
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