My scribbled notes about “Silver Linings” mentioned Burroughs Corporation. They gave me a wonderful career opportunity right out of college. It only took 18 months to fail, an embarrassing outcome I was not prepared for. 

Life was easy growing up with loving parents and good friends in rural Georgia. After that came Valdosta State College, four years which I sometimes enjoyed too much. I apologize if the next part sounds boastful, but it’s integral to an honest story.

As a freshman I won the Mr. V.S.C. contest. Delta Chi fraternity sponsored me because I could play piano. The girls in the audience would have crowned someone else, but gray-haired judges enjoyed my medley. It was rather comedic as 15 guys paraded across stage in tennis attire holding rackets, then in rented tuxedos. Talents were widely diverse. Terry Fields, superb shortstop on the V.S.C. baseball team, recited “Casey at the Bat.” Tommy Whiddon played a classical piece on the organ. The only other contestant I remember is Denny Clark. I don’t recall Denny’s talent, but swooning young ladies applauded him for just smiling.

In my sophomore year I was elected president of Delta Chi fraternity, which prospered despite my leadership. Then came a term as president of the Student Government Association. After my junior year I spent the summer in Washington, D.C. in Senator Herman Talmadge’s office. Each intern made a cameo appearance on the televised Watergate Hearings. We thought we were famous. None of those were big accomplishments, but I was on a good roll and expected it to keep getting better.  

When Richard Gaddy interviewed me for a sales position with Burroughs he was impressed by my resume. Quite honestly, I was too. I patted myself on the back as I moved to Tallahassee to sell computers. Life was sweet and getting sweeter as wedding bells would soon be ringing.

Tallahassee was a great town and Burroughs a fine company. Richard was an exceptional boss and mentor. There was only one problem. I was terrible at sales.

Burroughs had a tremendous training program. Eight weeks of classroom instruction in Philadelphia and Tampa were interspersed over six months. Between sessions I went on sales calls with Richard and other experienced marketing reps like Bob Abernathy and Mike McClain. In Philadelphia I won the award for best product demonstration. Classroom performance, however, didn’t translate to real-world success. 

I dreaded telling Richard I was leaving, knowing he had placed his confidence in me. When I met with him and Doyle Perry, our Branch Manager, I expected them to bemoan their wasted time and resources. Instead they told me I was welcome to stay if I had any doubts. I had no doubts, but their compassionate gesture brought tears to my eyes.

Years went by before I began to understand how valuable the Burroughs training had been. Sales techniques, such as overcoming objections and dealing with irate customers, came in handy during five years of selling cars and 35 years in banking. It took me a while to realize the bumpy road at Burroughs helped smooth my career path. Decades later than I should have, I called Richard to thank him. 

A couple of good lessons came from that humbling experience. One was realizing that failing is not the same as being a failure. The best lesson though is something I still tend to forget. Even in the darkest clouds, there’s almost always a silver lining. It’s up to us to find it.