“It’s not the critic who counts. It’s not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled or whether the doer of the deed could have done better.

The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by the dust, sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs to comes short again and again because there is not effort without error and shortcoming.

It is the man who actually does strive to do the deeds, who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spent himself in a worthy cause who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly so that his place shall never be with those cold and cruel souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

—Theodore Roosevelt (26th president of the United States)

Yesterday’s phone call from the Somerset Daily American caught me off guard.  ”Hi, Nick, have you heard?  Congressman Murtha passed away this afternoon.  Could you give us a quote?”  the reporter said.   Truthfully, I was not ready for this call.  Having talked to friends who had been with him only a week earlier, everything seemed like it was going to be okay, but obviously, okay was not what it was.  He had one of the 500,000 or so laparoscopic cholesystectomies performed each year to remove a gallbladder.  This surgery has a .05% complication rate, but the call proved that, regardless of the percentages, there is always risk from human involvement.

I’ve decided to dedicate this as a very personal look back at my journey with Jack Murtha.  Ironically, we had grown up practically as Pennsylvania neighbors in Westmoreland/Fayette Counties.  My first real meeting with Mr. Murtha was during the 1977 Johnstown Flood.  I was a young teacher and volunteer who was mopping the floors of the relief centers,  getting things ready for survivors who had lost their homes when I heard a helicopter come flying in and saw a tall, impressive, 44 year old Congressman deplane.  He had only been in Congress for a few years, but had clearly learned enough about the  System to keep then-President Carter on his toes and get legislation passed to help his home district.

My very next encounter with Mr. Murtha wasn’t until about three years later, when his Washington office called me to see if they could help my employer at that time, Laurel Arts of Somerset, with a bill that was going through the House before Ronald Reagan took office.  Nothing came out of that call except for the fact that I realized that his employees were parents of former students and people who liked and respected my work from those days.

Then the big encounter hit.  Mr. Murtha was looking into bringing the National Park Service into Cambria County to start what became the America’s Industrial Heritage (Tourism Development) Project.  He and several other Congressmen came to the University of Pittsburgh in Johnstown to hold a Congressional hearing on the project, and, as the newly-elected President of the Laurel Highlands Convention and Visitors Bureau, I testified against the plan and explained that if they didn’t include Westmoreland, Somerset, and Fayette Counties, we would not display any literature promoting it at all of the tourist sites that we controlled.  They agreed, and not many months later, he ended up representing Fayette County as part of his district.   It worked out for both of us.

A few years later, I had transitioned into healthcare senior leadership and  invited Mr. Murtha to introduce Bob Hope at a fund raising event for the Mercy Hospital of Johnstown.  Approximately 6,000 people were in attendance and Mr. Murtha got as much applause as Mr. Hope.  The following year he helped us bring in Henry Mancini and his orchestra for a similar event and our respect for each other began to grow.

Rep. John P. Murtha speaking at Biotechnology Expo (2004)

In 1997, when I became the President of Windber Medical Center, Mr. Murtha and I were seated near each other at a dinner party.  It was there that we  began to discuss healthcare, and his vision for the future.  Anything that would help the soldiers stay well, prevent illness, or stop it before it became an issue was his goal.  I heard him speak at the opening of one of his many health center initiatives at Walter Reed Army Medical Center, and he said, “I have 13 honorary degrees, hundreds of awards, and am well known as for my work in defense, but I want my legacy to be healthcare, prevention, and wellness.

His contributions to healthcare, however  small they may seem compared to what he has done for the world and for mankind, through his tireless and dedicated work were where his heart was.  His strength and vision made him the most impressive human being that I have ever known, and my love and respect for both him and his wife, Joyce, cannot be calculated in mere human measurements.  I am proud of him, his work, and his commitment, and I know that the seeds that he has planted in Breast Cancer Research will go on to save thousands of lives someday.

Ironically, it was healthcare that took his life.  No one can ever replace Jack Mutha; his knowledge of the system, his guts and determination, his singular efforts to help a district that had been devastated by natural disaster, his kindness and great personality.  No one.  So, today, I write with great sadness that our great friend is gone, but at the same time, I vow that his name, his contributions to humanity, and his memory will never be gone.

Look at wriwindber.org or windbercare.com, and see what Jack Murtha built.  We loved you, Jack.

The origin of the name of this blog, HealingHospitals.com came from decades of seeking a better way to transition an old model to a more meaningful, experiential approach to caring for people.  This would actually provide transformational experiences for the patients and their families in a more interactive and participatory way.  (HealingHospitals was named a top 50 hospital administration blog.)

In a recent conversation with a clinical psychologist, I learned that we generally become our habits or, in fact, our habits become us. Accordingly, to change, to grow, to transition and to flourish, we have to work very hard at changing those habits that are not benefiting us personally: over indulgence, negativity, low self-esteem, or whatever the issue(s) may be.

How does this apply to an organization?  Every organization that I have ever experienced has a distinct personality and, in its own way, habits, as well.  Sometimes the personality of the organization is imposed by its leaders, but usually there are layers and layers of practice that have become part of the culture of that organization; practices –for better or worse– that have accumulated over time.

My observations of numerous hospitals have also provided me with an understanding of the myriad of habits that no longer make sense in today’s world; habits still being embraced that literally produce negative results, and are not only insensitive to the needs of both the staff and the patients, but also are many times intellectually and emotionally caustic to all participants.  We’ve written several times about the disparaging nature of the “parent-to-child” management styles prevailing in many hospitals amongst staff, physicians, and administrators, but this is just the proverbial tip of this particular iceberg.

Many hospitals are wonderful examples of business models that flourished during the Industrial Revolution.  Employees still swipe time cards into time clocks, bells and pagers go off all day and all night; professionals poke and prod patients without any explanation.  How many times have you observed the 84-year-old being wheeled into a cold, uncarpeted hallway, parked near a wall with nothing to see, nothing to do, and no one to talk to for long stretches of time while waiting for tests about which he or she knows very little?

In many hospitals patients are referred to by staff members by their  body parts: the kidney in 101, the heart in 543, the stroke in 300.  It is also common that the procedures administered are at the total convenience of the staff and docs without much consideration for the patient.  Numerous hospitals still ask loved ones to leave promptly at 8:00 PM each night, and many times bad news is delivered via the phone.

Consequently, the blog name, HealingHospitals.com which may seem almost like an oxymoron, is intended to help us all to create environments for healing. For the most part, we can probably agree that it would be great if hospitals were places where you could go to begin that healing process.  We might even agree that it would be wonderful if we could be nurtured there, to be helped to find the road to recovery through healing, and even more dramatically, to have a transformational experience that would help us break or modify those habits that keep bringing us back.

It would also be fantastic if, at the end of life, our loved ones could be admitted to control pain, or if the family could have respite.  More importantly, it would be amazing if relationships could be healed before the transition to the other side.

In the late eighties, when I entered healthcare administration, it was my passion to make hospitals more like hotels and spas. But, most importantly, it was all about making the hospitals healing places where patients would have a chance to change their lives in a meaningful way; mentally, physically, and spiritually, via a transformational center of caring.  Let me certify that we did just that, and it is going on to this day. The point is that “you can, too.”

“Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.”
Cosmos – Carl Sagan (1934-1996)

Over the last several years, we have made extraordinary claims in our blogs, our speeches, and our consulting.  We have made claims that have been questioned, sometimes scoffed at, and generally ignored by the masses who believe that their way is the only way.  It is almost as if these claims are so seemingly “out there,” that many believe they could not possibly be true.

• less than 1% infection rates
• lowest restraint rates
• lowest re-admission rates
• lowest mortality rates
• 99% patient approval rates
• 97% employee approval rates

In hindsight,  should we have just kept these claims “under the basket” because too many believe they look too good to be true?

When we claimed a bottom line that was over $2.5 M in a hospital with fewer beds than an average wing of most hospitals, you could see the frowns of disbelief on the faces of financial officers.  When we claimed those approval rates, the CEO’s of other hospitals simply smiled and probably thought to themselves, “…maybe in your little hospital, but NEVER in mine.”

Now that I am no longer affiliated with my previous employer, let me throw down the gauntlet to you.  It is my complete and sincere belief that these results, with your total support and endorsement, can happen in your facilities. It is my further belief that I can help deliver those results for you, so that instead of laying people off, you too can double or triple in size. I believe that you can take your everyday challenges and turn them into unbelievable successes.  How?  Take the pages from my book on hospital management.  (The one that’s not published yet, but firmly planted in my heart and head.) In the interim, get yourself a copy of my first healthcare book that has been published, Taking the Hell Out of Healthcare.

• If you are a genuinely kind person, that will show through in your management style.  Kindness is not weakness.
• If you care about your staff, they will care about not only you but also about your patients.
• If you treat people with dignity at all levels of the organization, your organizational culture can change.
• If you help the 10 percent or so of your employees, physicians, and others who do not support this philosophy to find work at neighboring institutions, they will be the gift that keeps on giving as they run rampant over patients at those hospitals and drive those patients to your doors.

These are not difficult assignments.  They require only that you stick to your resolve, that you always try to do what is right, and that you do not stop until all of the necessary changes have been made.  Healing organizations start with YOU.  Healing organizations embrace their human resources.  They embrace patient families.  They DO NOT function like cold, corporate America.  They function like patient-centered America.  Kindness in the workplace is not a gimmick, not a fleeting idea, not a once or twice a year thing, it is a complete commitment to a change in culture that reaches out to patients, employees, and medical staff.

The cost?  In the big picture, the cost is not even a consideration. Your investment now is less  than you can imagine, as your facilities grow, expand, and thrive. Besides:

What does it cost to be nice?

What does it cost to be civil?

What does it cost to be kind?

Healing Hospitals are a way of life.  Make sure that your hospital becomes just that, a place for healing.

One of the sometimes-challenging realities of Thanksgiving is that it forces us to look into the microscope of our personal time here on earth and acknowledge the change that will always be a part of our humanity.  This week I received a phone call that should never have been necessary “in my lifetime.”  One of my former employees passed away. For those of you who have some knowledge of my past, you might scratch your head in confusion regarding my deep consternation and pain from the loss of one person, because there were literally thousands of employees with whom I have worked over the years. But, for the others of you who know me well, you will clearly understand.

When I became the president of my former hospital, the waves of change had touched on it shores only briefly as it had attempted to avoid being consumed by neighboring health systems.  Because of this challenge of competition, we were given the authority to “try some new things” to attempt to preserve the facility as a community hospital.  To say that the road ahead was laced with hazards would be a serious understatement, but we did  navigate those sometimes treacherous waters successfully.

As my tenure began in this difficult environment, a few people stepped forward who “got it.”  Winnie Horner was one of those people.  She “got it” from our first presentation about our dreams and plans.  Winnie was literally one of a handful of people who was willing to put herself out there to help the hospital establish new dreams, new ideals, new goals, and new caring philosophies.

Because a concept seems easier to embrace if it can be identified with others, we became a Planetree Hospital, the third in the United States and the first in Pennsylvania.  It was our goal to become a Healing Hospital.  It helped to jump start us into a new world of compassionate, healing, loving care that literally gave new life to the organization and helped it to remain not only open but also to succeed in ways that could never have been imagined.

Winnie not only “got on board,” for a long time she became the engineer of that train.  Her passion, her kind ways, her belief in spirituality, her amazing  voice, and her commitment to change was always obvious and appreciated.  She was a leader, a champion, the Joan of Arc of this effort, and I loved her for this.

Unfortunately, she will not get to read this because, at 48 years of age, she died this week.  Unbeknownst to her, she had been working with pneumonia, but, like Winnie always did, she kept giving of herself.  Who would have ever thought that it would have had this ending, and her three beautiful children are now without their mom this Thanksgiving.

So today, I write to you, Winnie.  You were a very important part of the soul of Windber Medical Center, and your presence will always be felt, but your absence will be felt even more deeply.

For me, Thanksgiving has always been a time of change, starting at a very young age as grandparents, uncles, aunts, and parents passed on.  The empty chairs at the table were always indicative of our own mortality, and the loss of those we love, be it permanent or just because of the sometimes-messy circumstances that are a part of living,  is a reality that we all must deal with throughout our time here on Earth.

It’s ironic that, as commercial as our country has become, the tradition of Thanksgiving has remained virtually untouched in the essence of its meaning.  If you are alone for Thanksgiving, or with a cast of dozens, take a moment to reflect upon your life and your gifts.  Understand that nothing is permanent, and that, like Winnie Horner, we all have a chance to make a difference in thousands of lives, a positive, forever difference.

This year, Winnie and her passionate partners were able to achieve something that has only happened a handful of times in the world.  Through their work, Windber became a Planetree Designated Hospital, a model of care in the Planetree philosophy, my final Windber dream.  Thank you, Winnie, and if any of you don’t believe that you can make a difference, a real difference, take a page out of “Winnie’s Book.”  She was one of the best.

One of my many college roommates, Mark, graduated with a perfect, straight-A GPA.  In those days the grade point average indicating perfection was a 4.0.  He worked harder than anyone I had ever known, and hardly took even a few minute break from studying.  For all intents and purposes, he had virtually NO social life, and, except for the occasional pinochle game and a coke-and-pizza break between study sessions, Mark was 100 percent committed to perfection in his grades.  As he became more and more sure of himself over the years, he would walk into our apartment and yell out, “Another day, another A!” and mean just that.

One of the greatest challenges of my life has been finding those measuring sticks that quantify our accomplishments.  In fact, the quest to solve just that ongoing problem has caused me plenty of sleepless nights.  I know, for example, that the infrastructure established for our research institute was so singularly unique, so perfect, so incredible that it should  become an international model.  In fact, when the National Cancer Institute evaluated just one aspect of the  institute, they indicated that the tissue repository was “The Only Platinum Quality Tissue Repository in the United States.”

As my time away from the hospital and research institute quickly approaches twelve months, my passion for the accomplishments that we experienced there has become even more clear to me, but where is Judge Simon when you need him?  How do you grade them?  Worse yet, how does one convince his former peers that the design that grew out of the ideas that became the philosophy of our hospital should be treasured as a new way to achieve perfection on multiple levels? …Another Day.  Another A.

Having an infection rate that never went above 1 percent; an extremely low length of stay (3.2 days); low readmission rates, low restraint rates, unbelievably low litigation rates that almost didn’t register on the charts at all.

If your CFO is reading this, simply add the following to each one of those accomplishments . . . $$$.  How does a small hospital in Western PA with one major health care plan produce a bottom line in excess of $2M?  More importantly, why wouldn’t every hospital administrator want to adopt these approaches?

So what’s the “secret sauce?” We did this by working endlessly to create a truly healing environment, not to be confused with simply doing our jobs well . . . that was a given. We all had to do our jobs well, AND create an environment that fostered a healing atmosphere.

People actually got a chance to begin the healing process.  By eliminating overhead paging, permitting loved ones to stay over with 24 hour visiting, as well as pet, aroma, music, and humor  therapies, integrative medicine, kindness, a commitment to nurturing, patient centered care and a total commitment to the creation of an optimal healing environment, we began to see outcomes that were previously thought to be literally unthinkable.

Another day.  Another A.

The time has come to realize that the old habits, the old arguments, are irrelevant to the challenges faced by our people. They lead nations to act in opposition to the very goals that they claim to pursue — and to vote, often in this body, against the interests of their own people.  They build up walls between us and the future that our people seek, and the time has come for those walls to come down.  Together, we must build new coalitions that bridge old divides — coalitions of different faiths and creeds; of north and south, east, west, black, white, and brown.

The choice is ours.  We can be remembered as a generation that chose to drag the arguments of the 20th century into the 21st; that put off hard choices, refused to look ahead, failed to keep pace because we defined ourselves by what we were against instead of what we were for.  Or we can be a generation that chooses to see the shoreline beyond the rough waters ahead; that comes together to serve the common interests of human beings, and finally gives meaning to the promise embedded in the name given to this institution:  the United Nations. (President Barack Obama’s Speech to the United Nations)

Interestingly enough, there were 22 years in a row when I could have made the same speech (Okay, it would not have been rendered  as eloquently as the President’s, but the content would have been similar.)  The most disconcerting thing about this statement is that I was referring to the internal stakeholders of many hospitals.  One of my favorite statements during those years because of all of the infighting was that ”We are not the enemy.”

An enormous amount of energy is expended in almost every healthcare organization on internal power struggles.  In many cases these struggles revolve around issues relating to money.  Questions like “Should the radiologist or the cardiologist be permitted to perform one particular test?”  Turf battles over procedures always seem to be part of the equation.  Other struggles revolve around perceived power relating to whatever positions are held because someone wants more control of larger pieces of the budget.

Power, control, greed?  All of these traits are part of the human experience, but when an organization expends much of its energy on these issues, the result is wasted time, wasted resources, wasted anguish, and, in many cases, lower quality outcomes.

Watching old movies of workers in factories during World War II have always fascinated me because we, as a country, had found a common enemy toward which we could focus our angst.  The fact that health care never seemed to be able to embrace illness as the common enemy always created intrigue for me. Yes, we would rally and work together when emergencies hit, but the other daily activities became somewhat mundane and boring, and our instinct seemed to be to revert to power, control, and greed.

Maybe, just maybe, we could find a way to marshal the medical staff, employees, and administration, the volunteers, and patient families to work together every day in every way to create an actual healing environment where patients can be surrounded with the energy of love, kindness, respect, dignity, and healing.  Maybe this environment could be the goal of every hospital executive, and they could begin and end each day by focusing on setting the example for the creation of a healing environment.

Since stepping back from my CEO role, I have had time to reflect upon the toll that a position like that can take on any individual regardless of the thickness of their epidermis. I have come to realize that anyone who is completely in charge of an organization faces many of the same challenges.

As a young man, I had serious delusions about what it would be like to be in the role of President. It was kind of a Superman fantasy: Yes, I would be kind, understanding, and fair. It would be my further commitment to be honest, forthright, and ethical in every way. My obligation would be to the people and the patients at all levels. My motto would be “Truth, justice, and the American way.”

Then the big day came, and my tenure began. It took about an hour to realize that it was now my personal responsibility to do everything necessary to generate all of the money needed to make payroll for the employees. In an area with a disappearing population base, that was an extremely challenging task, and as the Sisters of Mercy used to say, “No money; no mission.”

During the money quest, the issues of loyalty and fairness were always rearing their ugly heads. Could you, in this very self-centered culture, ever really expect people to be loyal no matter what your commitment had been to them? I would minimally try to play the role of a benevolent, servant-leader.

I was the guy who would reach out to people who needed a break and then provide them with that break; sometimes against the conventional wisdom. What did I expect in return from them?  Simple loyalty. Time and time again, however, those same people who might never have had the opportunity that they were given would turn on me. It became almost predictable.

It took them a long time to believe that they were capable of doing the job that I had personally selected them to take, but usually as soon as they reached their comfort zone they would begin to turn away. Maybe it is just human nature, but even Mighty Mouse would have been disillusioned by this recurring situation.

The other CEO reality is that fairness is situational and so subject to interpretation that it becomes impossible to please or satisfy everyone. The nature of our new collective employee psyches seems to be one of “If it’s not done directly for me, then it’s not fair.” The list of individuals who were brought to the leadership stage over my 22 years in healthcare was voluminous. Dozens of people were given consideration for their education, salaries, promotions, and advancements, yet if one other person was recognized in a similar way, the hue and cry was often, “It’s not fair.”

So, looking back over two decades of running hospitals, foundations, a research institute, and several other spin-off companies, an appropriate summary for any future leader is to “go with your gut.” With that in mind:

You are not now and will never be a superhero.

You are a human being with human frailties.

You cannot right the world or repair dysfunctional childhoods, marriages, or lifestyles through your benevolence.

However:

You can do what you believe will result in the most good for the most people.

You can respect the fact that your efforts could help to continue payrolls for hundreds or even thousands of families.

You can embrace the fact that the vast majority of your mistakes will not be fatal to anyone, but you also need to learn to cut your losses and deal with the disloyal.

One of my mentors used to pull me aside periodically and say, “Nick, you’re doing a great job, but you need to lighten up. We only pass through here once. So, try to enjoy yourself, my friend.”

Now that was good advice.

Who would ever consider having 24-hour ’round-the-clock family visiting in a hospital; beds for loved ones to stay overnight; deli-style counters on the patient floors to serve hot meals to loved ones, patients, and staff; popcorn machines in the lobbies; bread baking in the hallways; live music, massage, aroma, pet, humor, and drumming therapy; decorative fountains; and special mammography gowns for modesty? We did, and that was over 12 years ago. Our patient population tripled through the emergency room. The budget tripled, and the number of employees almost tripled.

At a lecture I once attended, Dr. Leland Kaiser said, “Give me the creative leader every time. They will always win over the traditional one.”

Well, yesterday, I met a creative leader. This young business entrepreneur was only about 34 years old. He owned a construction business that specialized in concrete. You know, poured basements, slabs, sidewalks, and driveways. When we discussed the current business climate, he smiled and said, “I’ve done okay.” Well, we all know that the construction business is literally on the skids right now and has been since the crash last year. NPR news ran a segment on Thursday about the 12,000 new government jobs being created in the Washington DC/Northern VA area. Seemed like good news until they said that these jobs represented only about a third of the more than 30,000 construction jobs that had been lost to date there.

When I asked our young rock star how he did it, he smiled and said, “I got this idea.” The number of times that those words have come out of my mouth is virtually immeasurable. Yet someone else has later described the related actions as an accidentally brilliant strategy. My response to him was, “So, what was the idea?” He smiled and said, “As soon as I got a bill, I paid it, that day, that minute, that instant.” As an employee of an accounting-type firm, my mind began to race with the traditional thoughts of “Oh, my gosh, how foolish. He could be getting interest on his money for 30, 60, or even 90 days, and he is paying his bills when they arrive?,” I thought to myself.

He then began to explain the outcome of his decision. “My suppliers love me, and because they don’t have to add in late fees, collection costs, lost interest, or simply lost money from late or uncollectable accounts receivable, this practice got their attention. Because they, in his words, “loved him,” he was able to negotiate better pick-up times for the concrete. This made him more flexible and productive as the trucks arrived at 8:00 AM with the morning’s first load of cement. The suppliers were also willing to negotiate lower prices for him than they could for the other contractors with whom he competed. Why? Because he paid them promptly every time.

He then went on to say that because his costs were lower than the other contractors, he could lower his prices to the builders with whom he wanted to do serious business, and, instead of the six or eight regulars that kept him going in the good times, he was now able to attract about 28 builders who wanted to work with him because he was on time, did good work, and, of course, was less expensive.

So, when he told me that he was doing okay, it meant that none of his employees had lost their jobs, his income had not gone down, and his business was virtually booming in an economy that has meant bankruptcy for more traditional construction oriented businesses. The really great news, however, is that this guy is a long lost, distant cousin about whom I had never known until just a month ago. So, I guess creativity runs in the family. Oh, yeah, and he’s a heck of a musician, too. Seems like Leland was right.

A Blueprint for Transformational Change: Nick Jacobs’ 2009 Graduate School address at St. Francis University’s 2009 commencement ceremonies

Recently, my youngest child —a wife and mom in her 30’s,  got a new job that came with a company cell phone, a Blackberry. The problem was that she had a “Friends and Family” cell Phone plan, and no longer needed her old phone.  She called the wireless company, explained the situation, and they said, “We’re sorry, but the telephone bill is in your husband’s name, and only he can change this.”  She painfully explained that he is in the Army National Guard in the middle of a war zone.  The wireless carrier’s “Customer Care” representative replied, “I’m sorry, but he must call in, give us his Social Security number and the password or nothing can be changed.  There are no exceptions.”

American soldiers with the 101st Airborne Assualt Division at Camp Pennsylvania make phone calls from a makeshift, and often malfunctioning, phone center. – Photo by Benjamin Lowy/Corbis -Image © Benjamin Lowy/Corbis

She explained, ”He does not have a telephone to call you from his base in the desert.” The service representative said, “ Then he must send us his Power of Attorney.”  This frustrated young army wife and mother of three said, “We’re not adopting a child or buying a house, we’re trying to change a wireless plan?”   “Let’s see, Osama Bin Laden is still making DVD’s, but you can’t change a phone plan?,” she went on.   “That’s correct,” came the icy cold reply.

Undaunted by this setback, we went to the local wireless store hoping that we would find an employee who was not the Tin Man from the “Wizard of Oz.”  The young lady patiently waited the 20 or so minutes until her name was called, went up to the associate at the counter and said, “I’d like to take this phone off the family plan and move it over to my new company.”   “I’m sorry, he said.  “The bill is in your husband’s name.”  She explained that her husband was deployed.  The mystified sales associate said, “I’ll check with my manager.”

You guessed it,” the manager said, “Just have your husband call.” “He doesn’t have a phone,” she exclaimed.  By this time everyone was listening intently.  The young man said once again, “Have him call.”  It was at that point that I lost it and said, “He’s in the war! They shot at him today.”  A few stations away, a man who was obviously a veteran yelled out, “Give me his numbers, I’ll put a war movie in the DVD and call these jerks for him.”  The next woman over just shook her head.  Undaunted, the red faced associate stuck to his guns.

Clearly corporate America was making a point.  War?  What war?  Who cares?  “Rules are rules, and they will not be altered!”  This was the third time in as many months that she was greeted with this type of callous big business attitude.  Because it was in a new location, the local cable company would not put cable into their home to provide access for the family to communicate with their dad via the internet for under $3,000.  Even when she explained the desperation of a war mom separated from her husband for a year, their reply was simple, “No, it’s $3000,  or no cable.”

She then asked that her satellite TV be discontinued, and was told that she would be assessed another several hundred dollars because the contract had not expired.  She once again explained the Iraq situation and the need for high speed cable, but they replied, “Sorry, but that’s the way it is.”

So, let’s all take this opportunity to thank our wireless company, the cable company, the satellite company, and every other United States-based company who so fervently support our troops and their families. Sung to the tune of America the Beautiful:

The magnitude of gratitude expressed by corporate greed;
Tells all our soldiers everywhere we’re grateful, yes indeed.
We’ll fleece you here and fleece you there as you protect our homes
Just watch us help your families until you all come home . . . NOT!

In the words of Stephen Colbert, you’re on notice.