It seems like most people have very little good to say about their boss. The clueless Dilbertesque pointy-haired middle-manager is a cliché for good reason. But there are exceptions, and we who find ourselves working for even competent managers should consider ourselves very lucky. The corporate landscape has no shortage of Michael Scotts. There seems to be a dire shortage of managers like Michael Hetrick.

And now there's one fewer. My boss, Michael Hetrick, died this week. He was fifty-six years old. He left behind a wife, two young children, and a long list of friends on which I'm proud and fortunate to be included.

There's no doubt that Mike was a great boss. He took the time to understand the tools and technology we use. He understood the needs of his employees and our customers. He was never stingy with kudos, even for the smallest accomplishments. He carried out his duties with such integrity that one couldn't help but admire him. For the five years I've been working at CDFA, Mike has been the heart of our department. Yet none of us are saying goodbye to our favorite boss as much as we're saying goodbye to a dear friend—one we'd never expected to lose so soon and so suddenly.

Goodbye, Mike. I'm very sorry to see you go. I'm a better person for having known you. If I can be half the man you will be remembered as, I will know beyond any doubts that my life meant something.

We're really going to miss you, big guy.

Current Mood: sad