A group of us from the State Office
Building in Kansas City left for Jefferson City to receive the Governor’s Award
for Productivity and Quality. It was a
periodic departmental award designed to reward achievements and to encourage
competition among state employees. In
1992 we had the right stuff. Governor
Ashcroft was to my right and most of the others in Facilities Management wore
nice clothes and ties except me. I’d
earned my part not by dressing up, but by wearing the ordinary uniform of a
blue collar worker. So far, I’ve never
driven a truck or run a forklift wearing a tie, but the recognition by the big
shots was appreciated.
For Maintenance the award reaffirmed
the policy of preventive maintenance with the right tools and supplies. Housekeeping earned it by proper supervision,
inspection, and having sufficient supplies to keep the building from looking
like Arrowhead Stadium after a game. For
Security their electronic upgrades to cameras, multiplexers, and VCRs paid off. For the tax payers the award meant they were
getting their money’s worth.
What the award meant for me was for
the first time in my civilian working life group and individual efforts were
formally recognized by management. I
judge it noteworthy enough to tell others that state employees earn their
humble salaries and are, I believe, a notch above private industry employees. When I worked for the state of Missouri there
was an inherent professionalism that comes from the right mixture of good
management and skilled and loyal employees.
My
particular contribution came as a humble Storekeeper I - which means I was a
jack-of-all trades and master of none.
Whatever needed to be done, I did it, but mostly it was a combination of
working on the dock and in my office ordering maintenance and construction
supplies. Over a couple of years I went
from an IBM Selectric typewriter to Microsoft Word and from a Rolodex to online
contract ordering. Now that I’m retired
on the family farm, maintenance and construction skills come in handy, but I
admit no progress; I’m still a master of none.
