A Look Over My Shoulder Back In Time

          I read in the paper today that Jack Byrne died. Jack hired me in 1981 to join a team to start up a life insurance company in DC for GEICO. GEICO had purchased Garden State Life Insurance Company and I with 5 other people flew to New Jersey (on GEICO's private jet), packed up files, and brought them back to DC. In one year we set up direct marketing of life insurance under two company names- GEICO Life and Annuity Company and Garden State Life Insurance. I was charged with hiring the service and marketing staffs and establishing the marketing/service departments for both companies along with working with the systems department to test and implement the system to administer the business. 

           Six months later, Jay joined the team and he worked on product development, established the underwriting criteria, hired the underwriters and set up the policy issue department. It was quite an adventure and learning experience! And my first (only) exposure to the BIG corporate world! I had other jobs with other life insurance companies but nothing compared to working for Jack Byrne and crew. 

           Shortly after I arrived, the start up team was introduced to the Board of Directors at the annual meeting. That was pretty cool except Jack said I was from Vermont instead of New Hampshire. Warren Buffett called Jack Byrne the 'Babe Ruth of Insurance.' 

            In the early 1990's,  GEICO sold the entire life company (ies) to a firm in Texas and once again everything was packed up and taken to a new spot. This move was to Galveston, TX. By that time, I had moved on and was working for another Life Insurance Company, State Mutual, in Worcester, MA. Jay didn't want to move to Texas and leave me so far away so he found a job in Philly and the rest is history...

             RIP Jack Byrne.

Simplicity

Simplicity  That Just   

Might Bring a Sense of Well-being

Monday afternoon was cold and bleak.  I decided to take a long brisk walk; I’d miss my daily walks for maybe the 10^th time in a row, so I was determined to make this walk count.  Swaddled in my windproof gear,  I felt tired and heavy and cold and even the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other demanded an effort, but I walked on.

Though I’d left without a destination in mind, I turned toward town.  There is only one way to get to downtown Manteo and that street was busier than usual.   I pulled my hat way down on my head obscuring some of my vision but I could still hear my ragged breathing and the howling wind.    

I was in a rut.  Maybe it was the winter weather, or the hours of being inside, or the medical issues I am struggling with, or the way my grey corduroys felt so damn tight around my waist when I put them on this morning. 

It was Monday afternoon.  That morning I had read another very sad report in the NYT about the children killed in that horrific shooting in Newtown, Connecticut.  Thirty years ago I lived in Connecticut.  I felt a grief that was at once distant and personal and exhausting.

Almost in town,  I was wearing out.  The walk isn’t difficult – the path is straight and flat but I hadn’t REALLY exercised since I started the chronic coughing and  breathing difficulties and the town is 2.5 miles away so even if I didn’t have breathing problems and wasn’t tired, and in a bit of a funk, at the pace I was moving, my breathing would still be ragged.  It turns out, however, that this exercise felt bad and good all at once.  I felt like a haze was lifting and there was something like a smile inside. 

When we lived in Erie, I belonged to a health club and did spin 3,4, sometimes 5 times a week.  I worked out with a trainer 3 times a week.  Exercising helped me claw out of every rut I have experienced in the past 30 years.  The rhythm of peddling on the bike helped me think straight.  The camaraderie of the group anchored me.  I found balance and community and peace and purpose and self-confidence on the spin bike.  I was able to stay in the saddle for as much of the class as I wanted but there were times when the music was so loud and the instructor would shout to crank it up that I would have to stand and push through the cycle.  The gym was no place to worry about appearances.  Sweat rolled down my body and puddled on the floor. 

That Monday afternoon walk was turning out to be relaxing.  I decided to walk beyond downtown and followed the path out of town for about another half mile.  When I did turn around I noticed I had the wind at my back.  It was around 4 pm and there was clarity to the light that you only see on cold winter days.  (It was common in New England but not here.)  Nothing was different but I felt a change.  I was ready for my brisk walk home; I pushed my hat back on my head so I could see and I knew I would enjoy the scenery.