coneblog

It was January, and we were behind in delivering the first production Skycam. We had redesigned every major component of the system. We had yet to integrate all the components and to do our first system test, and the Winter Olympics were four weeks away.

The talk in the shop was that there was no way we could make it. In fact, it would be irresponsible to take the system to the Olympics in its current, untested state.

This talk reached Garrett, and he brought the team together. He invited comments, and heard us out. Then he said, in his clearest, clipped, Mid-Atlantic tones: “Chaps, here is the deal. You all signed on for a difficult task. We knew it wouldn't be easy, and here we are. But let me make one thing perfectly clear to everyone in this room. This system is being loaded into the shipping containers, and is going to the Olympics in four weeks. It is going if I have to leave fingernail marks all the way to the Airport dragging it there myself. So get back to work, pull this thing together, and let’s get it running.”

We all looked at each other, a bit stunned. His determination completely filled the room, leaving no room for doubt, or for other opinions. We nodded, and went back to work. There was no more talk of “not going to make it”.

Did we make it? No, we weren't even close. We got all the pieces connected, but the system was far from ready. We stayed home. But in that month, through heroic efforts, we made enough progress that we were ready for the next job, four months later.

I have often thought back on that night with wonder. Did he know the real situation? Did he really think we could make it? What gave him the conviction and determination to take the stand that he did? How could one person’s plain-spoken determination replace the opinions and conviction of many?

That night I learned the nature of leadership.