by John Renesch
Chapter Nine: LIFE AS AN EVANGELIST
August 12, Atlanta, Georgia, CNN News studios, 8:03 AM EST
Steven and Catherine sat in the green room, waiting for his segment on the business news show. This was about the twentieth business show he’d been on in the past few weeks. He was amazed at how popular he was getting as word spread about what they were doing at Ventures. Clearly, the V2P program was something everybody wanted to see happen in business. It had become clear to Steven that one reason for its enormous popularity was so many people had become resigned that business could not be socially constructive and contribute to any positive future for the world.
V2P in all its iterations was serving as a rallying cry for many of these former cynics and pessimists in corporations all over the world. It had tapped into a deep-seated pool of mass denial about the kind of future the world was headed for as long as runaway, publicly traded multinational corporations were allowed to run unfettered—like robots taking over the world.
Steven was encouraged by the flow of deals that continued to come into Ventures after an anticipated slowdown after the public announcement. They were being offered twice as many opportunities as they could handle. They were busy hiring new MBA graduates, recruiting from alternative business schools that taught social responsibility as well as business. Luckily, there were a couple of these “green MBA” schools on the West Coast. They also were getting record numbers of unsolicited job applications from people who heard what the V2P stood for and wanted to work for such a company. Ventures had more business than it could do, which reinforced their business model and dispelled the myth that doing good would be bad for business.
It was clear that sanity had been restored in some corner of the business community, and that a sufficient number of Steven’s counterparts in corporate life had become inspired by a new possibility he had helped them to see. The writing was on the wall. Steven could see the day would soon be here when any corporation that did not become more socially conscious would eventually die off like the dinosaurs.
He recalled all those major shifts that happened in history—cultural shifts precipitated by some bold actions by a few people—sometimes purposefully and sometimes quite accidentally. He recalled how many of these major cultural changes seemed as if they had always been after the shifts had occurred.
October 20, Hillsborough, George residence, 7:12 AM PST
“It sure doesn't feel like you're retired,” said Catherine as Steven appeared for breakfast. Martha was pouring his coffee as he walked past.
“Well, that's because I'm not!” he said. “In some ways, this new job is as time-consuming as my old one. But dear one, I am loving this work so much, so much more than the old work. I'm so happy about what we are up to, and I feel so blessed with the terrific people I'm working with! Wow!”
“How's Ruth doing? What's it been now, five or six months?” Catherine asked.
“Just over six. She's doing terrific! It was such a good decision. I'm so proud of her. She's doing even better than I thought,” he said, “which makes me feel really good. Her interim title should get dropped any day now. I think the board is comfortable with her. Hell, some board members have openly stated that she's better than I was!”
Steven admitted to himself that Ruth was indeed actually better at delegating than he ever was—something he believed might be better done by women than by men who tended to tough it out and go it alone. All that silly macho crap, he thought.
“Well one thing for sure,” Catherine said softly. “I haven't seen you look this relaxed, and this happy, while you're working since we got married. Well, maybe that time up at Shasta Lake on that vacation about twenty years ago. Remember, the kids were small and your mom was with us?”
Suddenly, Steven realized he could now relax about the change program. He could stop wondering if it were going to work, if everyone would get behind it, if the rest of the business community could see the value of it. He saw that it had succeeded—without question—and that people did get behind it and many forward-thinking business leaders around the world had been inspired to make similar changes in their organizations. He could stop his wondering, and begin rejoicing.
It had worked! And they had succeeded. He could relax and really celebrate.
Steven looked at Catherine and they both had the same thought at the same time. Their eyes teared up together as they remembered Kirsten.
“We'll never get over this,” she said as he was nodding in agreement simultaneously, reaching for a Kleenex.
“I hope we never do,” he whispered, choking back a sob. “I hope we never do.”
“You know she'll always be with us, don't you?” asked Catherine, knowing how her husband would respond.
“Of course, my darling, I can feel her right now—here with us. It's like she isn't confined to time and space these days, and she can hang out with us, and whomever else she wants to, all the time. She is really free!” he said.
They embraced and walked out onto the patio together. The sun was up and the moisture was evaporating off the rear lawns—a sort of private tulle fog in their backyard. They walked into the sunshine, then stopped and remained in each other's arms. Kirsten was with them both.
June 12: Hubert H. Humphrey Center Auditorium, University of Minnesota, Minneapolis, 9:23 PM CST
Steven stepped down from the podium and walked through the curtain to the backstage area as the audience was still applauding. People were standing and clapping loudly. Some were whistling. Some were shouting. Despite the number of months he’d been on the stump for organizational transformation, he still felt some self-conscious embarrassment at the enthusiastic response he was getting, but was also deeply moved and very excited at such overwhelming acceptance for the message he'd just delivered. The auditorium had seemed to be absolutely packed and they had told him the room held over 3,000 people.
Catherine was waiting in the wings for him, wholeheartedly applauding and beaming so brightly. And I'm married to this woman. Gratitude overwhelmed him and he burst into tears. Catherine's hands stopped applauding, and her arms surrounded her husband as they stood there embracing as they both sobbed uncontrollably.
A stage manager asked him if he wouldn't mind going back onstage. It was only then Steven realized the noise level in the auditorium hadn't subsided one decibel. It was as if the audience was demanding he come back. He knew what this was like as a member of the symphony back home—but from the audience perspective.
Steven's life was now more different than he could have ever imagined—even one year earlier. He had never, ever considered being in a position where he wasn't running an enterprise, responsible for huge budgets, making payroll, and surrounded by staff. He was now an independent lecturer, traveling around the world speaking to rooms filled with people who held senior positions in large corporations, or who had started their own companies that had grown into multimillion dollar enterprises.
He recalled talking with a retired Christian evangelist who'd once hosted his own television show. He recalled how this man had talked so openly about the temptations to “taste the grape of self-indulgence” and become impressed with his own charisma and appeal to so many people. “They wanted to transfer all their hopes and dreams onto me,” he'd told Steven, “and my task was to remain myself…to remain true to my Self…and not get absorbed into my own self-importance, or buy into being what they wanted me to be. I had to fight a few demons, but I could see that I had to stay me and not become anything other than me.”
In many ways, Steven had become something of an evangelist—a spokesperson for millions of people who worked and managed, who led companies large and small, and who really wanted to make a difference in the world. He recalled the evangelist's warning and saw how tempting it could be to allow himself to go there. In the moment, he was feeling enormous gratitude for that preacher.
June 20: San Francisco, Frascati’s Restaurant, corner of Hyde & Green Streets,
7:55 PM PDT
A cable car went rolling by out in front of the restaurant. They sat at the corner table, with windows on two sides of them. Allen was turning out to be a pretty neat guy, Jean thought. They were seeing each other several times a week now and no red flags had come up yet. Could she be mellowing as she neared twenty-five? she wondered.
The waiter arrived with the wine they'd selected. They each sampled it and nodded their approval in unison. After their glasses were filled, Allen’s eyes suggested that she say something. Without thinking, Jean found a toast coming from her lips and raised her glass: “Here’s to Steven George—a man who had a dream and the balls to carry it forward.”
Allen smiled, knowing how important her work was to her and how grateful she was to be working at Ventures. As happy as he was for Jean, he felt a tinge of jealousy that his own employer wasn’t as visionary or courageous as hers. Still smiling, he wondered if he should become a champion for the change he saw was needed. Could he be another Steven George? he wondered.
June 21, Northern California, Shasta Lake, Little Backbone Arm, 8:44 PM PDT
Steven stood on the rear deck of the luxurious houseboat he and Catherine had rented for the week. The night air was warm, and the skies were incredibly clear. The full moon was shining across the tranquil cove where they had tied up for the night. The sunset was backlighting the sky behind the hills along the Western edge of the Lake.
Crickets and frogs were engaged in a private symphony for their human audience of one.
God, it's beautiful up here! he thought.
While he was lost in the beauty of this moment, the rest of the George party were carrying on a lively discussion up front, where dinner was being prepared. A loud roar of laughter echoed down the passageway toward Steven, gently nudging him from his reverie. He heard a large splash as a brown trout broke the surface of the water a few feet away.
Steven looked down at his martini, lifted the olive and inserted it between his lips, and took the last sip with total awareness of each sensation in his mouth. He felt it with his tongue, the roof of his mouth, and his throat as he swallowed slowly, savoring every drop.
The aroma from the barbecue on the front deck had found its way to the back of the boat. Then he heard the unmistakable laughter of Chelsea echoing around the cove. Dear Chelsea. How he loved her and appreciated her, now more than ever.
His thoughts went to Kirsten, dear Kirsten, and he felt enormous warmth and more appreciation. Little grief remained these days. He saw Kirsten as a soul who had blessed his family with a visit, a visit that had lasted over thirty years. He could now see what he couldn't when he was consumed by grief. He could now appreciate the enormous impact his daughter had made on his life, on all their lives! Wow, what a contribution she'd made. What a difference she'd made!
He felt blessed to be able to see Kristin's passing as a blessing now, not a tragedy. Boy, that would have sounded so insensitive to him in his old skin. He would have punched out anyone who suggested he'd be grateful for it someday. And now, here he was.
She's still out there someplace, he thought, and raised his empty glass in a salute to his oldest girl—out there somewhere. He gazed in awe into the night sky and wondered at the density of the stars which were starting to shine now that the sky had started to darken. There was Venus, just barely visible over the western horizon, still baking in the remnants of the sunset. Thank you, Kirsten darling, he thought closing his eyes. Thank you for everything you've done for this family.
As he remained there with his eyes closed, he distinctly heard the voice of his oldest daughter. “You’re most welcome, Daddy,” the voice said. “Tell everyone hello for me and I love you all.” He opened his eyes slowly and soaked in the warmth of all the love he could feel, feeling grateful he was now able to take it in. He touched his chest with his free hand and felt tears of pure joy swelling in his eyes.
Does it get any better? he mused. He felt a sense of pride in the accomplishments of the past couple of years. He felt enormous gratitude for all the support and love that had come his way, from his family, from his friends, from his co-workers. Actually, he was feeling so much gratitude, he wasn't even sure it was aimed at any one person or group. It was kind of an overall gratitude—for being alive and in the here and now. Geez, he was grateful!
Slowly, he walked around the large table that had already been set for eight—eight people he felt so privileged to know and be known by, to love and be loved by. These are people I would trust with my life, he thought. These are people I would go mountain climbing with. I would tell these people anything about myself. God, I am fortunate. Thank you, God, for all the wonderful blessings you have given me, he said to himself.
He could feel a tingling sensation throughout his torso, rushing up and down his arms and throughout his back. He felt warm all over and surrendered to the sensation. It was pure love. Kirsten was here. He could almost smell her. He inhaled deeply, sucking in all this wonderful love.
He was so glad to be alive! He took another deep breath and felt a big grin come to his face. To say he was content at this moment would be a gross understatement.
He entered the rear cabin and walked forward to rejoin his guests up front.
THE END
About the author
John Renesch is San Francisco-based businessman-turned-futurist, keynote speaker and writer whose published works include twelve non-fiction books all focused on the subject of organizational and social transformation. His most recent non-fiction book is Getting to the Better Future: A Matter of Conscious Choosing and his website is https://www.Renesch.com. This is his first novel.
Acknowledgments
Several people offered to critique this work while it was still in its infancy. In the beginning I interviewed several people who were helpful to me. These include Claude Rosenberg, Bill Burdette, Jack Forem, and many others. Many thanks to Gloria Gotti, Eleanor Austerer, Bert Berson, Val Lafoon, Sharon Gadberry, Marilyn Reidel, Dee Lesser, Suzanne Tucker, Leslie Lawson, and Tina Rasmussen for giving me their critiques of those early manuscripts. Helping this work progress toward publication were Josh Wimmer and my dear friend Herman Maynard who supported this work getting out into the world.
I also wish to thank Mike Kelly, Peter Ressler and Sonia Stojanovic for reviewing close-to-final drafts and providing valuable feedback regarding the financial services industry. And special thanks to Bill Liao, Bud Stone, Bill Gladstone and Steve Banks for their contributions to me.
Thanks also to Adrian Preuss for his help in getting the book’s cover into a format that would work in the Kindle format.
Finally, I’d like to thank all those who have been part of my adventures in the field of merging social consciousness with business and large scale organization change. Some of these people are mentioned in the story as themselves and others help make up the completely fictional characters. Thanks to you all for your inspiration, your wisdom and your example!
—JR
