NOTE: If you would prefer to listen, click here for an audio version of this blog post. When prompted, click the following: Photo 1 Photo 2 Photo 3 Photo 4 Photo 5 Photo 6 Photo 7
NOTE: Click here for Part 11: Where I worked – Mountain Bell on Zuni St. (cont’d.), supervisor – the challenges; click here for Part 13: Driving in the midst of the majestic Rocky Mountains.
There were times that I enjoyed the challenge of the job of supervisor, and most of the people who worked for me were great to work with, and they were sympathetic to my treatment by my supervisory clerk. She got under their skin as much as she got under mine. Also, my boss, Kathy McKibbin, was the best boss I’ve ever had – always supportive, understanding, and very easy to talk to. She was a friend, and I hated it when she decided to take early retirement on 1-1-84 (the other supervisors and I had just celebrated Kathy’s 50th birthday a year or two earlier).
When I returned to the office after Alison’s birth in December 1981, I found a note on the door to our office, proclaiming “IT IS A GIRL! 7 lbs. 5 oz. Born at 5:48 PM on 12-1 to Joanna & Bill Jones.” I imagine it was Kathy McKibbin who did that.
In April 1984, as I prepared to move to the Corporate office in downtown Denver, my employees gave me a beautiful going-away party in the office, complete with a cake proclaiming me the “# 1 boss” and them the “# 1 bunch.” (Keep in mind – our “troublemaker” had transferred to AT&T by this time, so we were all smiles!)
L-R: Pat Trumble, Norma Diesing, Lena Drajem, Bill Jones, Marty Croxford, Nancy Currigan, Sonny Ebert (not pictured: Shirley Dickey & Marge Fox)
But my most enjoyable memories of this tenure derive from my experience with a group we called “the GONG.” A group of 1st-level supervisors – mostly in our 30s, with an exception here and there – met daily for coffee breaks (we had a great break room; can’t even remember what floor it was on) and lunch (the 1st-floor cafeteria). We became good friends, to the extent of getting together once a year for a party, including at least one that Joanna and I hosted at our house. In April 1984, as I prepared to move from Zuni to the corporate office downtown, the GONG gave me a going-away party. The GONG also gave Joanna, our kids, and me yet another going-away party in the summer of 1987 just before we moved to Texas.
Now how did we become known as the GONG? When Sonny Ebert was on vacation in Mexico, he sent a postcard to one of us and wrote, “Tell the gang hi,” except that his handwriting made the word “gang” look like “gong.” From then on, we became the GONG. Sonny and I are still close friends today, and whenever we reminisce about those days, we still refer to the GONG. The name stuck.
In August 1983, the CWA union went on strike nationally. The strike lasted just 3 weeks, but it was a memorable 3 weeks. Management filled in for the workers who were on strike. This meant long hours at the office. However, we had our compensations. For one thing, we could come to work dressed casually. For men, this meant no suits and ties! Also, with us working 12-16 hour days, the company let us eat our meals in the cafeteria for free! Breakfast, lunch, and dinner – it was all on the house. Besides our added responsibilities in the office during the strike, we were also responsible for “strike duty,” in other words, taking our turn monitoring the picket line to make sure the strikers were adhering to the rules (stay outside the company grounds, no violence, no harassing management or others crossing the picket line, etc.). As long as the picketers didn’t make any trouble, this was an easy gig. Sit out under a shady tree, and simply watch the picketers, who were just on the other side of the fence and gate. During my Denver nostalgia tour, I took a picture of that area where the strikers picketed and where we monitored them.
After dinner, the GONG usually took a walk around the building together. This sometimes resulted in some horseplay. During one of these walks, a grasshopper jumped on Marty Croxford. Marty, who was deathly afraid of the critters, jumped higher than the grasshopper. Well, you didn’t dare admit such vulnerability around your friends in the GONG. From then on, during these walks, Shirley Dickey would mischievously hunt for a grasshopper to throw on Marty. Perhaps it was a little bit cruel, but it was hilarious watching Marty jump around, trying to escape from the grasshopper, flailing his arms in a futile attempt to flick the grasshopper off of him.
On one of these walks, Norma Diesing and Shirley were joking with each other and ran, laughing, into the building. Who should be standing in the lobby but Lloyd Burton, our general manager – in other words, the head of the whole department, our 5th-level general manager! Shirley and Norma immediately straightened up and walked to the elevator. Whew!
Speaking of Shirley Dickey, how could I ever forget her tagging me with the “Mr. Bill” nickname, a throwback to the “Mr. Bill and Sluggo” short films that had aired on Saturday Night Live in the late 1970s. (Remember, this was only a few short years after that.) She always called me Mr. Bill. Funny how that name entered pop culture and never left. Today people who have met me for the first time – often young people who were born decades after the Mr. Bill & Sluggo films – call me Mr. Bill. But it all started with Shirley Dickey of the GONG.
Then there was the time that Norma and I found ourselves all alone – just the two of us – on break one day. I don’t remember just where everybody else was, but it was awkward. Norma and I didn’t have a lot in common, and we weren’t used to being alone without at least one or two other members of the GONG. Finding something to talk about with each other was not easy. Well, I had a habit of bringing the daily newspaper with me to break and occasionally sneaking a peek at a news item, but talking about current events with each other was not part of our relationship. In that day’s paper was a headline about Israel’s prime minister, Menachem Begin. Norma glanced at the paper and said, “So what about that Begin?” I cracked up and replied, “You’re really having a hard time thinking of something to talk about with me, aren’t you?” Norma laughed, the ice was broken, and we went on to have a nice conversation (but about what?).
There was also the time that Norma made a joke about “these fifty-fivers,” and then turned red when she realized that Lena Drajem, who was sitting across from her, was around that age. Lena wasn’t offended, and we all laughed it off. When Lena actually did turn 55, Norma surprised her by placing a 55 mph highway sign in her desk chair in her office. The sign was courtesy of Norma’s husband, Gary, who worked for the highway department.
Lena also gave us a laugh one time when she tried to tell us that she was 7 years old when her father died, but instead said, “I died when my father was 7.”
I remember that Lena and her husband, Ed, were huge hockey fans who faithfully followed our local Colorado Rockies (later to become the New Jersey Devils) games on TV. However, she said she couldn’t stand to watch basketball on TV because of the sound of the squeaky shoes.
Then there was Nancy Currigan. She got stuck with the nickname “Venus,” because she sometimes said things that seemed a little spacey. Of course, then there was the time that Sonny mentioned that his hairline seemed to be receding, and I stuck him with the nickname “Baldy” – then and forevermore. You can see from this that the tiniest evidence of some quirk or characteristic would become fodder for this group’s teasing.
All of these things may seem pretty mundane, but think about it – it’s the little quirky, funny things like this that endear people to each other. What I remember most about the GONG was the love we had for each other. These folks became dear friends. When Sonny’s 13-year-old daughter passed away in January 1984 following a mysterious illness, we all came together to love and comfort Sonny. We went to the funeral in Pueblo, and I know all of us were putting ourselves in Sonny’s place, imagining the pain he must be feeling, and we wanted to do whatever we could to help him through that time.
These people were special to me, and they remain so, though Pat Trumble, Marty Croxford, Lena Drajem, and Marge Fox all passed away many years ago. Sonny and I have remained close, talking regularly on the phone. I even visited him in Florida when I was out there for a conference earlier this year. I keep up with Nancy Currigan on Facebook. When Joanna passed away in 2021, I received sympathy notes from Norma, Shirley, Nancy, and Sonny.
That time spent together in the early ’80s created a bond between us, and I’ll always remember the GONG most fondly.