Family Matters Feb. 21, 2010
Tomorrow is supposed to be another blue sky, fair weather day. However, for me, no matter how brightly the sun shines or how clear the sky, tomorrow will be dreary and sad. Captain John Smalley, a man I served with in the Army Reserves, will be laid to rest tomorrow in the Houston Veterans Cemetery. I am going to the funeral in the morning and a memorial in the afternoon to say goodbye to my friend.
John and I, and about 20 others, were on a computerized simulations team. These simulations were used to train units in the systems that make the combat support systems happen and leaders in decision making. His forte was to play the opposing forces or "OPFOR."
John trained me and a few others to play the "OPFOR" side of the game. He was a tenacious "enemy" and if a unit or commander didn't bring their "A" game they were going to get their clock cleaned. For John, and later those of us he taught, it was a matter of pride that only a very select few units ever beat us.
John was one of the few guys I've ever known who could make the Army bureaucracy do what he wanted it to. It was more than the fact he knew the rules. He seemed to have an internal sense as to what input the system needed to get his desired output.
Even better for all his fellow soldiers, was his absolutely unselfish service to all of us in making the system work for us too. John would explain travel vouchers to us 400 times if we needed him to, then he would walk the voucher through the process if he had to, so we could be reimbursed. OK, I cop to being the 400-voucher explanation guy.
His systems intuition kept any of you who have ever flown through Houston safe as well. He was an Air Traffic Controller in Houston airports for years, promoted to ever-busier airports and shifts. Routing airplanes was work he talked about often, and he knew what a responsibility he had and what a service he performed for all of us.
However helpful he was to everyone, officer, NCO or Private, this wasn't all that endeared him to all who served with him. While we served together, he was diagnosed with a life-threatening melanoma and I saw him go through much of his treatment, rarely missing an exercise, despite the sickness and tiredness from the chemo and radiation. I never saw him down or angry toward anyone, and I will always remember him as a prince of a guy.
He managed to beat the cancer, and we haven't heard what felled him yet; maybe we will find out tomorrow. I am saddened that he and I drifted apart as he had to leave the Army for a time during part of his treatment and then I moved to Idaho in pursuit of my dreams. For all of you who have served, you likely know distance and time do not diminish the relationship you share with those whom you have served.
If you have a chance, please say a silent prayer for my friend, a great soldier and a wonderful friend. Wednesday, we will have a family reunion of sorts, salute, say good-bye to one of our brothers, and the day will cry.
Mark Altman is a speaker and leadership consultant with the Altman Leadership Center. He is an international speaker with two books and a DVD that can be purchased on Amazon.com. He can be reached at mark@leadright.net.