In the midst of a pandemic, during protests and civil unrest, staff member at The Union Club of Cleveland continued to serve the club and its membership despite many unknowns.
For many city’s clubs, the recent civil unrest added to the previous business challenges of COVID-19.
In Cleveland, we had just re-opened from a previous twelve-week closure when a city curfew imposed on our Union Club neighborhood canceled any of the week’s momentum.
Cleveland hosted a peaceful demonstration on Saturday, May 30th in the central location of the city where hundreds of protesters acted upon their civil rights as American citizens. These demonstrations were just a few blocks from our club, and since it was a Saturday in June, the club was closed except for our front desk.
But later that night, sitting in the comfort of my home I watched in horror as our great city, like many others in America, turned from a peaceful demonstration into a destructive act of violence by a small handful of vandals.
My source in the world of social media was a Facebook feed filmed live by a brave individual cataloging these actions as they unfolded in real-time. The more I viewed this live feed, the closer these vandals came to our beloved club. Our close-knit community, neighborhood, and key local businesses were becoming subjects of destruction and vandalism.
When the riot was approximately four blocks from our address, I made the call to our first Union Club hero.
Bill Hersh, our Chief Engineer, is responsible for securing and keeping the lights on in a one hundred year old building. Bill has cemented his employment of thirty-six years through keen skill and clear decisions during all types of challenging engineering situations.
I dialed his number and he answered his cell phone even thought it was a Saturday night and he was at his fishing camp over two hours away.
Our call went like this:
“Bill, it’s Lawrence. The club looks like it’s in the pathway of danger.”
“What do you need Mr. McFadden,” said Bill in a monotone response of assurance.
“I need your advice,” I said. “What should we do for coverage for the Union Club engineering capacity if they get into the building while breaking our windows and exposing the interiors?”
“I am on my way boss,” he said. “It will take me about two hours, but I should be there by 11 p.m. to relieve the front desk,” said Bill, calmly.
As Bill made his way into the city limits, past the police barricades and into the neighborhood of destruction, I kept our next hero company by way of the Club’s main phone line.
Brianna Owens, a part-time front desk employee studying for a master’s degree in human resources, sat at her post as she often does on Saturday night while sirens, the sound of local business’ glass breaking, and chants of social justice rang outside the walls of our club.
“Brianna, it’s Mr. McFadden. How are you doing?” I asked.
“Fine, Mr. McFadden, just sitting here doing my homework,” she said as we both heard the voices of people passing by the fence, and windows of the club.
I responded, “Brianna, Bill is on his way. Do you need to get out of there right now?”
“No. I am OK and I will wait for Bill. Thanks for telling me,” she replied in a confident, professional manner.
I learned later that many of our great managers called Brianna directly checking in on her and making sure she wasn’t alone as they began to lock the city down from the inside out.
Bill arrived and safely escorted Brianna to her car. They created a plan for her to exit the city based on his arrival path. He then stood guard all night checking various key areas and locations of the club for safety as the riots raged on.
Early Sunday morning, we spoke again just as our third hero arrived at the club to relieve Bill of his overnight post.
Margie Harrison arrived on time for her 8 a.m. Sunday shift, securing normal coverage of the club, and somehow, she maneuvered into the city through back roads and detours that only an experienced resident might find.
After my call with Bill, it turned to “Margie, it’s Mr. McFadden. I have organized some security guards that should be there in a few hours. How are you holding up?”
Margie replied, “Mr. McFadden, this doesn’t scare me. Do what you need to do and let me know how long you want me to stay.”
“Thanks Margie, I will be providing the names of the security officers and the time of their arrival ASAP.” I continued to check-in and monitor the situation throughout the next several hours.
To my relief, by mid-morning, we got Margie out of the club and back to her home while completely closing the club for the next three days until the Mayor and city officials deemed it safe to return to the curfew zone.
Hero is a term not often used in my professional career. I have not often experienced another’s real desire to take on responsibility at the cost of their unknown safety or for that of the organization.
Simply stated, these individuals responded without question, without requirement or concern regarding if, when, why, or what.
During this entire twenty-four-hour experience all three heroes just used the simple responses; Yes, OK and Don’t worry, it’s covered.
These actions left me speechless, first as a person, but especially as a co-worker.
True hospitality is an act of kindness regardless of need.