Once there was a simple man named G. He worked in a automobile factory. The man worked hard every day. He gave the company a good days work for his pay. He would stay late to make sure the job was done right. He would help others with the problems they would have on their line. He went above and beyond the call of his resposibilities.
Everyone in the factory loved G.
G’s job was to put bolts on the fender of the cars as they came down the line. Not a very illustrious job but still G was proud of what he did. He worked alone and stayed very busy all of his work day.
One day as G was working on a new model, he noticed that one of the nuts, on the bolts, that he placed on the fender, was very close to coming through the hole that was drilled for it. He knew that it would be easy for this bolt to come loose and possibly affect the whole fender. He knew that this potentially could be a big problem.
So G, concerned about the defect went to see the man responsible for the assembly of the cars and running the factory, Mr A. Mr. A. could not be found and no one knew where he was. G had been there many times with many ideas but had always been delayed or turned away. G went back to the assembly line and continued his work but was determined to discuss the problem with Mr. A.
Later, again, G went back to see Mr. A, this time his was able to meet with Mr. A. As he sat down to talk, Mr. A began to talk about his glorious cars and how they were so wonderful and how much people loved them. Mr. A. ranted that the cars were so glorious because of all he did to manage the plant. G knew that Mr. A. did not have time to listen to a simpleton like him, so G went back to the assembly line and continued his work.
But ... G could not stop thinking about the issue and the problems it could cause.
That night as G lay in bed, suddenly, as if from God, the solution hit him. “That’s it,” he thought. How could the fix be so simple. A smaller hole! That’s it!”
G couldn’t wait to talk to Mr. A. the next day. After pitching the solution, Mr. A went into a long barrage of how that solution could not work, how much it would cost the company to buy smaller drill bits, and how it would require so many people to change. “You leave the thinking to me G,” said Mr. A., “We’ve got much bigger problems that I need to worry about.”
G left feeling small and unimportant. He knew that his ideas were not valuable to Mr. A. Yet, G could not stop thinking about the problem. He tossed and turned that night laboring over the solution. In the middle of the night suddenly he sat up, again a heavenly thought hit him. “A washer before the nut!” He smiled, “That is the solution.” G thought of how wonderful it would be to look at the new plaque on his wall - “Mr G. - Worker of the year!” He had never received any awards before, but he just knew that this would be his big chance. He settled back into warm bed with a smile. As he slept that night, he dreamed of his fellow workers cheering and of Mr. A. presenting him with his plaque.
The next day G began his fix. On the way to work he bought thousands of washers. As he sat on the line that day, he would insert the washer first and then the nut. Somehow there was such a pride inside; he was making things better. He knew that He had done a good thing for his company.
After many months of working his secret fix, as G was on break, he overheard people talking. These were the people who worked in customer service. “I don’t know what they did, but I am getting no more complaints about those fenders,” said one of the people. “One of my customers said, now that the problem was gone, he was going to buy two of cars,” said another one.
G was so happy inside. He had caused the cars to be better without the company spending anymore money or making any changes. But George also knew that one day he would have to ask the company for money for the fix, he simply couldn’t afford buying thousands of washers every week.
Not long after, G was called into Mr. A. office. As G walked down the long hall, he beamed with pride, Finally G was going to receive that plaque, maybe a raise, maybe a special parking spot, but most of all, some much needed praise.
When G entered Mr. A.’s office there was a solemn look on Mr. A.’s face. “Who told you that you could put washers on those bolts?” said Mr. A. The longer G listened the littler and more insignificant he felt. Nothing that G said could get through to Mr. A. “I am the boss of this factory.” said Mr. A. “Nothing happens here until I say it happens.” With that Mr. A. slammed his fist on the desk and said, “We’ll have no more of that!” and pointed to the door.
G slowly opened the door and walked down the long hall. He felt so many emotions, anger, disappointment, but worse, for some reason G felt shame. G was drained of his passion to make the fender better. “I never was able to explain what I was trying to do,” thought G.
G sat down at the line again. His head hung low. He picked up the remainder of the washers and dropped them in the trash.
That night G couldn’t sleep. He had always loved going to work and loved his job but he had no desire to go back. “Maybe it is time to do something else,” thought G. “Maybe I am too old for this.”
From that day, when G went to his job, things were different. The building looked different, the line looked different. Soon people noticed that G was different. He still helped where he could, he still did a good job, but the spark was gone from his eye.
Not so many days after G had talked to Mr. A. G made a decision. After a long day at work G slipped a letter for Mr. A. under his door. The letter said...
Mr. A.
I have always loved my job and loved the cars that I helped to build. I wanted people to buy our cars and that was because I was proud of them.
Lately we have taken many short cuts, and used cheap materials. We do not put the work into the cars that we use to and I have not been so proud of our cars. I feel that we have forgotten that our job is to make good cars.
Many people who work in this factory do not do a good job. They cause the company thousands of dollars and do not take pride in their work. I am not like them because I care about our cars and our company. I want it to be successful. I want to be proud to say, “I helped build that car.”
I care about the fenders on our cars.I know that seems trivial to someone in your position, but I wanted people to love the fenders on their cars. Because of that there is no one, on the line, who cares more about what happens to our company than me.
But, I see now that the company is going another direction. The things I think are important are not things that seem important to the company. I understand.
I cannot allow the problem with fender to go by when I am on the line. I love these cars too much.
Thank you for allowing me to work here for all these years.
Goodbye,
G
G left the building to never return. His heart was broken. As he drove away, he turned and looked at the building that had been so meaningful to his life. A tear streamed down G’s cheek. “I will always love you,” G thought. “I will always be proud of the cars I built here.”
Many years later G was watching the news. There to his amazement was Mr. A. G sat down and turned up the volume. “Why is the factory closing?” asked one reporter. “Why were people so unhappy with your latest model?” ask another. “Did it have to do with the fender problem?” said another. “We stand by our decisions here at this factory. We are proud of our product.” said Mr. A as he plowed through the reporters and cameramen and stepped into his limo and slammed the door.
G drove by the factory one day. He got out of his car and stopped to look. The was a great sadness in his heart. He looked at the broken windows and the locks on the doors. He could see the rusted bench where he would sit for lunch and soak up the sun. He missed the people there, even Mr. A.
G walked to the padlocked gate and placed his hands on the fence. How he wished he could have changed things. Did anything he worked on, over those years there, really matter to anyone? “Bolts on a fender? Right! Who cares about that! ... No one!”
G was awaken from his thoughts by a car going by. It was one of the models he had worked on. The front fender was clanking and banging and making an awful racket. It shuttered. It stuck out of line with the smooth curvature of the rest of the beautiful car.
G smirked but then smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
As G turned to walk back to his car he passed the dumpster. It was empty now, no longer used. He read the factory name on the side and then the message below the logo, “We are proud of what we build!”
G lowered his head and started on but something caught his eye. There lying in the dirt and gravel was one of G’s washers. G picked it up and blew the dirt off. “Someday I’ll use this for something,” he thought.
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