Daryl

A post about my favourite boss ever

Ever done a job where you feel like your soul is in a brace?

Like someone is trying to twist it and train it into a shape it was never meant to be?

Deliberately misalign it?

You feel an pressing urge to pop it back into its ‘soul socket’ before permanent damage is done.

That’s why we call those kind of jobs ‘soul destroying’ because that’s exactly what they do. You are expected to slowly torture your own conscience and value system day after day before eventually killing it.

Well, back in early 2005, I’d been doing a few of those jobs much to my dismay, as I found myself trying to make ends meet.

I was back in the UK, York to be precise, after a six month stint travelling overseas. The previous year, I’d turned 30 and my internal compass was going haywire. Half of me was still full of giddy, youthful wanderlust, whilst the other half desperately tra-la-la-la-laa-ed over the sobering whispers of my nagging biological clock.

As with many females when they hit their thirties, it hadn’t just started to tick but was going full blown cuckoo. I felt an undeniable instinct to nest. I’d started to panic a little about not owning a house, not having ‘a career’…….Did I need a career or would an ordinary job be okay? Did I want to get married? Would I be stuck renting forever? Before you got your ‘ducks in a row’, you at least needed some sort of pond, right? All these thoughts regularly kept me awake at night.

Classic FOMO!

Then, there was the man I lived with, whom I’d been travelling with. We were at that weird age where ‘boyfriend’ sounded childish and ‘partner’ was still teething through its connotations of homosexuality and business deals. Don’t get me started on other euphemisms like ‘other half’. Anyway, him. We’d been together five years by this point. He wanted to stay in the UK to engage his passion of music - gigging and the like, the ‘scene’. His needs had to be considered too.

So, I’d been weighing it all up, doing all these shitty bitty temping jobs, living in a poky bedsit, when I got a call from an agency about a position with a corporate events firm. Sounded promising. An interview with Daryl.

Wait…….

WHO?

Daryl?

DARYL???

What WAS this? 1983?

“He’s the CEO but very hands on, likes to do all the interviews himself.”

Oh…..

Daryl. I immediately warmed to the quirky name. I’d never met a ‘Daryl’. It was retro. Reminded me of Daryl Hannah in Splash! and the guy from ‘Hall and Oates’. I went along to the interview upbeat, humming ‘Maneater’, a cheeky glint in my eye.

I was greeted by a charismatic man in a sharp suit with a warm handshake. Perhaps in his mid forties, he had sandy greying hair and blue eyes that engaged you instantly with a captivating twinkle. Daryl relayed with enthusiasm, the story of his company. How he’d he founded it many years ago and that it had evolved into two main branches, corporate events and travel. Travel! God, I drooled as he said my magic word! Then, I composed myself, expecting (as is standard fare), to be asked about the usual blah-de-blah; skill set, experience…….. No! Apparently not. The agency had that covered.

Daryl explained he’d rather find out about ME, Julie, the person. Really??? This was groundbreaking.

How refreshingly human!

He leaned in, genuinely curious, eyes agog as I spoke at length about Thailand where I’d just returned from.

“Ooh….what did you think of Koh Lanta?”

He’d been there too. The next half an hour or so felt like fondly reminiscing with an old backpacking bud. We touched on mango lassis and Bangkok markets, then on to skydiving in New Zealand. I remember leaving thinking well, THAT was the weirdest job interview ever!

Not long after, came the call to say I’d been hired and could start on Monday. Yay! Fancy bagging a job just by being…….. yourself!

Over the next few weeks of my new role, I keenly absorbed my new working environment. It was clear from the off that Daryl was both well liked and respected. Many of the staff were a similar age to me, mentored by those slightly older, people who had worked there for years. Always a good sign, right?

Daryl read people. He took the psychological temperature of the office floor every time he set foot in it, his senses proving a surprisingly accurate thermometer. It was fascinating to watch, not a trick got past him. Daryl did not suffer fools, time wasters nor those who took liberties. A good man, yes, a fair man, yes, but cross him and boy, he could blaze! He was invested. It was his business so quite rightly, he gave a damn in a way that wasn’t about half heartedly courting some annual bonus. Now a family man, this was about cementing both livelihood and legacy. This was his baby.

One of the perks of the job was visiting posh conference venues and I lapped it up. How fabulous to enjoy complimentary stays at luxury hotels and sometimes indulge the fine dining there too. This was the early days of internet and pre social media so venues competed, all wanting to woo us so we’d recommend them to prospective clients.

Sometimes, the schedule could be gruelling, though. I’d be there bleary eyed, way past my shift end, putting in the graft. But as Marie, a longstanding employee told me: “Put the time and effort in, do your job well and Daryl will look after you”

One balmy summer evening, Daryl rewarded all his staff by hosting an Indian themed banquet in the spacious grounds of his ample home. There was an array of delicious food served up by professional caterers in a series of marquees. There were glasses of fizz and live music. This was a far cry from some shite bowling night drummed up by Sharon in HR. This - as with everything else he got involved with - was an extension of him - it oozed pizazz.

Was I crushing on him? This masterful, successful, older male? Well….maybe a bit. I have to admit, his capable ‘self made man’ demeanour gave me serious ‘Jonathan Hart’ vibes.

Not long after, the company was selected to host a large event at ‘Alton Towers’ on behalf of a blue chip client. Daryl put me in charge of this project giving me two part time students a team of people to manage. It was my brief to organise the accommodation and travel queries of event attendees. Long before the era of ‘Teams’ and ‘Zoom’, it transpired that there would be a pre event meeting held on site.

“YOU need be there with me to discuss logistics with their in-house team, have a bit of a recce”

He told me decisively, making me feel more important than any boss had ever done in my whole life. Carefree little ole me suddenly felt like a fraudulent right hand woman.

It was a strange atmosphere on the way down to Alton Towers in the car. Imagine, just you and your boss hauled up on a road trip for hours. But Daryl being Daryl, he wanted to dispense with small talk, get to the bare bones of you. He asked about my life plans. Not really knowing them myself, naturally, I wishy-washed and Mavis Riley-ed. Daryl pulled no punches when he said;

“Look, Julie …..you’re in your thirties now and if you do intend on settling and starting a family, you need to start thinking about it sooner rather than later”

I was a little taken aback by his frankness but he was right. It was like he was speaker-phoning my own brain.

I told him I’d been thinking of relocating as my fella hadn’t been happy in York, that we’d thought about moving to Hebden Bridge.

“Renting or buying?”

He enquired.

“Because if you want to get on the property ladder……..”

Jeez DAD, back off the mic already!

I wanted to say, although once again, he was speaking to all the parts of me I’d been trying to ignore.

Mirroring his candidness, I explained that I would have to stay renting as I wasn’t earning enough to obtain a mortgage. It was true. Although I could afford it in practise - after all, I paid rent every month, the banks were strict about income requirements. Much as I’d daydreamed of owning my own place one day, it had just seemed so out of reach, realistically, I hadn’t dared entertain it.

“Listen”

He said, in that ‘under my wing’ tone I’d come to know.

“How about I give you lots of extra shifts for a few months? We’ve plenty of work on and that way you’ll be legitimately earning what you need to, to be able to secure a mortgage”

Really? I could not believe he would do this for me, would want to do this, for someone he barely knew.

“If I can help people, I do”

He said with a smile and a sparkle in his eye.

His straight talking, bold offer and faith in me instantly made mincemeat of my brain fog.

I now knew my next move.

And Daryl, it turned out, was a man of his word.

On my part, I made sure his event was a resounding success, a jewel in his hospitality crown. It received amazing feedback with everyone reporting they had enjoyed it and felt well taken care of. I put the shifts in, slogged my guts out, made the income requirement and acquired the mortgage. Yes, I bought my first home - all thanks to him. It was a massive kindness I have never forgotten.

After I moved away and left the job (too far to commute daily), I sent him an email update, proudly showing off my new cottage; its wooden beams and stunning views of the rolling Yorkshire hills.

Following that, our paths seldom crossed, unless I needed a work reference. Every now and again as I went through life, I’d smile as I thought of him, wonder how the company was getting on. And I’d do that thing most of us do - you know, look him up, give him a Google.

I was not prepared for what I found.

Daryl, had taken his own life on a railway line in 2013 leaving behind a wife and child.

Daryl, this kind, generous, high achieving, stellar human being. A guy who seemed to have it all - lovely family, successful business, colleagues who respected him……

I’ve no idea how things got to that point for him. Our inner demons can sometimes be unrelenting and insufferable, driving people to the most extreme measures to stop the negative self chatter.

His spirit, however, lives on.

Whenever I speak directly or act decisively.

Whenever I use insight and intuition.

Whenever I take no prisoners.

Whenever I assist others.

All of this, is me channelling the essence of Daryl.

He remains, to this day, not only the best boss I ever had, but one of my greatest mentors.

The man who showed me that power wasn’t an axe to wield but rather, the privilege of helping raise others to their own higher ground.

PS: I hope you enjoyed this little real life story. I now have more than 370 posts on here and I’m a total box of frogs my Substack is a mixed bag. My posts are split into categories of ‘Story’, ‘Musing’, ‘Opinion Piece’ and ‘Poetry’ on my home page so you can easily locate more of what interests you.

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