Have a Heart
Sometimes inspiring someone at work requires getting him to deal with personal issues.
By Pat Croce

(FORTUNE Small Business) – So there I was, decompressing with a glass of fine red wine, reviewing the dinner menu while watching my beloved 76ers play the Sacramento Kings on the bar TV at Scott's Seafood Grill & Bar in Costa Mesa, Calif. I had just finished a rigorous hour-long motivational presentation to a 400-strong sales team at Eli Lilly. Suddenly I heard my name called from behind. I turned to see a large man extending his hand, introducing himself, and thanking me for the inspiring speech all in one breath. His name was Sal, and he felt a sort of kinship with me because of our common volatile mixed heritage of Gaelic and garlic, as I jested in my speech. We briefly chitchatted about our ancestry, and before he turned to rejoin his party, he handed me a folded note and asked me to read it before I left California—but not right now! I said I would be glad to, and hugged him goodbye.

I stuffed the note into my pocket and returned to the game. Following a delicious dinner of cioppino and a Sixers loss, I walked back to the Westin hotel. When I reached into my pocket for the room key card, the note slipped out with it. I read it. I closed my dropped jaw and read it again: Will you call my father, Dr. Isadore Taratino, and tell him I love him? I have never in 44 years of my life been able to say this to him. He has less than one month to live since he is dying of lung cancer. Thanks, Mr. Croce. Your friend, Sal Taratino, Eli Lilly L.A. rep. 909-xxx-xxxx.

I was shocked. I couldn't believe that the friendly man I had met just an hour ago had never said I love you to his father! And that he wanted me, a stranger, to be the first person to resolve this lifelong omission. (Back in Philly, I was familiar with fulfilling people's requests to call their family or friends and provide them with some optimistic hope to cope with serious setbacks, but this was a first for the West Coast.) So immediately I picked up the phone and called the number at the bottom of the note.

A lady answered, and I asked to speak to Dr. Taratino.

After a brief wait, a man said in a raspy voice, "Hello."

I introduced myself and informed Dr. Taratino that I had recently met his son, Sal, after speaking at his business conference. I told the man that his son had given me a note with a message to relay to him. "He wants you to know that he loves you."

There was a brief silence. Then he asked, "Who are you?"

I repeated my story.

He said, "My son calls me everyday. Don't you think it more appropriate that he tells me?"

"Yes, I do," I replied, "and I think he will, the next time you two talk." I said goodbye and wished him God's blessings.

I hung up my cellphone, glanced back at the note and made my way back to the restaurant, thinking that inspiring someone to throw himself passionately into his work sometimes requires inspiring him to deal with personal issues as well. I walked into the room where the Lilly staff was enjoying its banquet and moved through it until I found Sal. After I had maneuvered him into the restaurant's foyer, I told him that I had called his dad.

He looked stunned. "You did?"

"That's what your note asked me to do, right?" I asked.

He shook his head yes, but still didn't believe it.

I described the phone call, then said, "Sal, now it's your turn." I retrieved my cellphone and hit the send button twice. I briefly listened for the ringing then handed the phone to him. You would have thought I had given him a live hand grenade!

Standing just a few feet in front of him, I could overhear Sal greet his mother and begin to chitchat. But I motioned for him to move on with a revolving-hand gesture, and he finally asked to speak to his father. Following more banter with his dad about me, my speech, and my phone call, I again motioned for Sal to keep it rolling. I felt that he was stalling, and I wasn't going to allow him to waste this opportunity! And then I heard him say it: "Dad, I love you." I moved away from this special moment but could see Sal choking back the tears. He finished his call with a promise to call back the next day.

I smiled at his success as he handed me the cellphone. Sal looked me straight in the eyes and solemnly said, "You did it."

"No," I replied enthusiastically, "you did it! And now make a habit of it."

We hugged goodbye as he whispered, "Thanks."