More Than an Employee

When you own a business for a long time, a lot of people come and go.

Some work for you for a few weeks or months. Some stay for years. Some you remember because they were great workers, and some you probably remember for entirely different reasons.

But every once in a while, someone comes along who becomes much more than an employee.

I was lucky enough to have one of those people work beside me.

He was my equipment operator, crane operator, log truck operator, mechanic, my most trusted employee—and, more importantly, one of the closest friends I've ever had.

We went through a lot together.

Big jobs. Small jobs. Difficult jobs. Long days. Broken equipment. Stress. Close calls. Good times and some pretty bad ones.

And through a lot of it, he was right there beside me.

When Someone Literally Has Your Life in the Palm of Their Hand

There's trust, and then there's the kind of trust that develops when another person literally has your life in the palm of their hand.

And I don't mean that as an exaggeration.

The work we did could be extremely dangerous.

There were times when I was about to do something where one mistake, one misunderstanding, or one wrong move could have changed everything.

When you're working with massive trees, cranes, heavy equipment and tremendous amounts of weight, sometimes you get one chance to make the right decision.

In those moments, knowing who was on the other end meant everything to me.

I trusted him.

I trusted his judgment.

I trusted his ability.

And I trusted that when it really mattered, he wasn't going to let me down.

That kind of trust gives you confidence.

It makes you feel like you can accomplish things you wouldn't even attempt with someone you didn't completely trust beside you.

And we did.

We Were the Ultimate Team

I know this is going to sound ridiculous to some people, but anyone who watched the two of us work together knows exactly what I'm talking about.

There were days when the two of us did the work of ten men.

No exaggeration.

I've had customers stand there amazed at how much work we accomplished in only a couple of hours.

We weren't running around trying to prove anything.

We had just worked together for so long that we knew exactly what needed to happen.

He knew his job.

I knew mine.

And more importantly, we knew each other.

He did the things I didn't want to do.

I did the things he didn't want to do.

We complemented each other.

There wasn't a committee meeting every five minutes about what happened next. Half the time, we didn't even need to say it.

We just worked.

One thing flowed into the next.

Looking back, I can say it without hesitation:

We were the A-plus team.

And I'm incredibly proud of that.

I'm proud of what we accomplished.

I'm proud of the jobs we figured out when nobody else wanted to touch them.

I'm proud of the days when customers couldn't believe what two guys had just accomplished.

But most of all, I was proud of him.

We Took the Jobs Other People Wouldn't

Some of the jobs we did together were incredibly difficult.

There were jobs other contractors didn't want.

Jobs where we'd stand there looking at the situation and wonder:

How the hell are we going to do this?

Then we'd start figuring it out.

What equipment did we have?

How could we position it?

What could we do differently?

What was the safest approach?

Between his experience and mine, we'd find a way.

We learned from each other.

We learned together.

And we became incredibly good at working together.

That didn't happen overnight.

It came from thousands of hours side by side.

It came from difficult days.

Mistakes.

Problems.

Successes.

Close calls.

And learning exactly what the person beside you was capable of.

He made me better at what I did.

And I'd like to think I did the same for him.

Some of the Hardest Days Were Also Some of the Best

There were days when I absolutely killed myself working.

It could be close to a hundred degrees outside, and I'd work nonstop.

By the end of the day, my entire body would ache. I'd be exhausted. Sometimes there wasn't much left in the tank, but the job needed to get finished, so we kept going.

Looking back, though, I don't remember those simply as miserable days.

Some of them are among the memories I value most.

Because I was spending the day with my friend.

We were accomplishing something together.

There was something about standing there at the end of an absolutely brutal day, looking back at everything we'd accomplished and knowing:

We did that.

Just the two of us.

I was proud of us many times.

Really proud.

I Looked Forward to Seeing Him in the Morning

I've never had a huge circle of close friends.

Maybe that's part of why this friendship meant so much to me.

I genuinely enjoyed seeing him first thing in the morning.

We'd figure out the day, get everything together, and head to another job.

Then we'd spend the day working together.

At the time, I probably didn't appreciate those ordinary mornings as much as I should have.

It was just life.

But looking back now, I realize how much they meant to me.

It didn't matter if the previous day had been brutal.

I'd know that tomorrow morning he'd be there and we'd go do it again.

Another job.

Another problem to solve.

Another day with my friend.

I miss that.

The Brother I Never Had

I grew up with four sisters and no brothers.

And if I'm being completely truthful, he's probably the closest thing I've ever had to one.

I don't say that lightly.

There aren't many people I would have wanted beside me during some of the situations we found ourselves in.

If you told me I had to go back and do those jobs again and could choose one person to have beside me, I already know who I'd pick.

Him.

He was reliable in a way that's difficult to find.

And I don't just mean he showed up for work.

When things got difficult, he was there.

When I needed somebody I could count on, he was there.

In a lot of ways, he was my rock.

And I appreciated that more than he'll probably ever know.

Loyalty Goes Both Ways

He earned something from me that can't be bought with a paycheck.

My loyalty.

And he'll always have it.

If he called me tomorrow and genuinely needed me, I'd be there in a heartbeat.

Not because he used to work for me.

Because he's my friend.

Because he's a great man.

And because when I needed somebody beside me, he was there.

You don't forget that.

Some Things You Don't Say Enough

I don't think I ever told him most of this.

Guys working together every day don't necessarily stop in the middle of everything and tell each other what they mean to one another.

You work.

You bust each other's chops.

You argue once in a while.

You laugh.

You solve problems.

You finish the job.

And you show up the next morning and do it all over again.

I never really told him how much I appreciated him.

I never told him how much I looked forward to seeing him in the morning.

I never told him how proud I was of what the two of us could accomplish together.

I don't think I ever told him how proud I was of him.

And I certainly don't remember ever telling him that, having grown up without a brother, he became the closest thing I've ever had to one.

Maybe I should have.

Maybe someday I will.

But I think part of him probably knows.

It seemed like we worked together forever.

And somehow, looking back, it doesn't seem nearly long enough.

I don't remember every job we did.

I don't remember every customer.

I don't remember every dollar we made.

But I'll never forget what the two of us accomplished together.

We were one hell of a team.

And during some of the hardest, most exhausting, most rewarding and most dangerous years of my life, I had somebody beside me whom I trusted with far more than my business.

I trusted him with my life.

He was more than an employee.

He was my friend.

He was the brother I never had.

And he meant more to me than he'll probably ever know.