The job was for a manager of a wholesale pharmaceutical distribution warehouse. Some days later, a letter confirmed the appointment, and my title would be the “Managing Director”. There was no mention during the interview about me being a director. I realised, then, that I would be accountable to the Pharmaceutical Council for the business’s conduct. However, the salary offered was somewhat better than I had been earning in the past.
I was not too happy about the omission and often wondered if it had been deliberate. Shortly before commencing the job, I visited the young lady pharmacist who was departing. She told me that if I ever saw the boardroom, I would be fortunate. Sure enough, the first meeting came, and it went without notification. It seemed that all that I was to do was receive orders for habit-forming drugs and maintain the registers.
Well, that was a lot worse than standing in a dispensary, counting tablets all day. On my first day, I took a walk around the warehouse and concluded that I had never seen such chaos and filth. I preferred a chemist shop’s orderliness and tidiness and dispensary, hardly an environment for me.
I concluded that I would be out of this job at the first opportunity. The sooner, the better, not realising I would be there for the next 25 years.
I set about reorganising the motorcycle dispatch; it was chaotic. The constant commotion was too much to bear. Regardless of anyone's feelings and disregarding any possible repercussions and objections, I did it my way.
I divided the city, Durban, South Africa, into several areas that contained an equal number of probable delivery points. Ladies who recorded telephoned customer orders received a list of chemists within a selected area. Instead of waiting for incoming orders, they had to call a chemist within that area every hour. Each location had a specific deadline, and they could not accept anything after the deadline. Similarly, the motorcycle dispatch had a departure time for each area.
The result was that despatch received delivery departures in batches. Each driver realised that it was necessary to return without delay because there would be new batches waiting. Chemist shops were now getting an hourly delivery that suited them very much. So much so, small wholesaler groups and a couple of larger wholesalers within the city became deprived of sales and began closing their doors.
Arguments were raised suggesting that because of changes to the corporate strategy, it would have happened anyway. As far as I could see, it was unlikely to happen for some time if at all.
I inherited the resultant mayhem. My telephone was going berserk with wrong orders, errors and missing goods. To add to the confusion customers were angry because they could only order ethical or prescription items for motorcycle delivery.
When I started my new job, I was stunned by what I found during my initial walkabout. The CEO and the company’s Chairman, regarded as astute members of the pharmaceutical profession, were not expected. The omission of the mention of being a Director seemed to me to be even more intentional.
While working in the retail environment, this company was the worst ever. I never used its services unless it was the last resource, now I knew why!
Empty medicine and cough lozenge containers littered the top of the fixtures. Staff had arranged cartons of bulk stock with a central well for an occasional hideaway. Everything was so casual, order clerks sat chatting and knitting before answering an occasional incoming call to record an order. Management and senior staff would help themselves to antibiotics and other drugs at the first sign of a sniffle. Medical representatives had free access to roam about the warehouse presumably to check on their products.
At 5 p.m. most days, the Admin Manager or General Manager, whatever he was would unscrew the top of a whisky bottle and throw the cap over his shoulder. Most days he would be joined by whisky bearing visitors, mostly medical representatives.
The worst was the elderly lady at the motorcycle dispatch who spent the day screaming at the insolent motorcycle drivers who would go out and return when it suited them. There was a so-called manager at bulk goods dispatch who went jogging at every opportunity, and he spent the rest of the day standing and watching the world go by at the van dispatch door.
I had no idea what level of authority was vested in me. I decided to take the initiative and reorganise the dispatch of the motorcycles.
I set about reorganising the motorcycle dispatch. The constant commotion was too much to bear. Regardless of anyone's feelings and disregarding the possible repercussions and objections, I did it my way.
I divided the city into several areas that contained an equal number of probable delivery points. Each Order Clerk was issued with a list of chemists within an area. Instead of waiting for incoming orders, they had to call a customer within an area every hour. Each area had a specific deadline, and nothing could be accepted for an order after the deadline. Similarly, dispatch had a specific departure time for each area.
The result was that despatch received deliveries in batches. Each driver then realised that it was necessary to return because there would be new batches waiting. Chemist shops were getting an hourly delivery and that suited them very much. So much so, small wholesaler groups and a couple of larger wholesalers within the city were deprived of sales and began closing their doors.
Apart from some order clerks objections, there were no repercussions. Sales took off and bedlam ensued. Nothing would be the same again. The warehouse was far from prepared for such unforeseen changes.
Arguments were raised suggesting that because of changes to the corporate strategy, it would have happened anyway. As far as I could see, it was unlikely to happen for some time if at all.
I inherited the resultant mayhem. My telephone was going berserk with wrong orders, errors and missing goods. To add to the confusion customers were angry because they could only order ethical or prescription items for motorcycle delivery.
Our order assembly staff was composed of a variety of different ethnic groups. There were about 10 African men assembling orders. Unknown to me at the time, they all walked out, I should have joined them. I have no idea of why they departed and I still don’t know why. They returned about an hour later belligerent and hostile. We rapidly closed the security doors for safety, they were all dismissed without further ado.
I am not sure who was customarily responsible for employing staff replaced with Indian men who lived in shacks alongside the Umgeni River. They were illiterate and relatively useless. A few days after employing them, the river came down in flood and swept all their shacks away.
All this was taking place in the early 1970s. The Internet was an unlikely fantasy, telephone calls to the UK and Europe were excessively expensive and avoided if possible. Even to call Johannesburg, one might have to go through a number of telephone exchanges before being connected.
We had an early IBM computer almost as big as a small car with a removable disc. The disk was about 18 inches in diameter. I have no doubt that its capacity and capability were no match for the telephone in our pockets today. There were no screens or monitors, all input to the memory of the computer was by means of small cards that the machine could read. To create an invoice for a customer, cards were attached to the order form that was used to assemble the order. When the order was complete, the attached cards were fed through the machine. The invoice was then printed before being merged with the waiting box of goods.
The system was unbelievably clumsy and slow. As can be imagined, it was nowhere near adequate for the demands of the current situation. Within a short period, the number of order clerks grew from about 4 or 5 to 16 all using IBM electronic typewriters. The number of motorcycles also grew in number, roughly by about as much
It was all an absolute nightmare. The Yamaha motorcycles, made in Japan, all looked very good lined up at the beginning of the day. They appeared sturdy and robust but they frequently broke down. I had to keep an emergency crew on standby to continue delivery or replace a tyre.
Considering the staff’s attitude toward drivers that walked out and the belligerent nature of the drivers in the past, I could never be sure whether the punctures were the result of poor quality rubber or if the drivers intentionally rode on underinflated tyres. Anyway, it all contributed to the prevailing unrest.
Bulk deliveries for multiple destinations were collected daily and distributed by an independent carrier. The volume was not substantial and a somewhat casual affair. I made the same changes as I had made for the motorcycles and business exploded. After a period we had a fleet of something like 25 Volkswagen vans governed by the same staggered departures.
In the midst of all this, some of our senior managers and board members departed for Europe. I can recall sending them a cable informing them that we had taken a record one million Rand in one day. In those days it was a lot harder to reach one million in sales than today. I don’t remember any stirring of emotions as a result.
There was constant resistance to change or to spend money. I remember saying to one of our senior managers, “If you seek to run this business Mickey Mouse style then you can expect it to be a Mickey Mouse business.” We were not friends and never were
There was so much that needed change
The machine-readable cards used for creating an invoice carried our cost and selling price for each item. Cards returned to the computer room along with order forms were sorted and old cards removed. There were many nevertheless bearing wrong prices and were still in circulation, a bad system entirely.
I could never come to terms with this. The warehouse was loaded with cards alongside the products they represented. Some were new while others were old and carried the wrong prices. I was not officially in charge of the computer staff or anything else for that matter. The staff would sit and play cards during a lull in demand for their attention.
I had become friendly with a young IBM sales representative. I remember his name, Norman. He had red hair. I discussed the problem with him but he said that he could do nothing about it. At the time of purchasing the present computer, management had resisted the inclusion of any other than essential software.
It made no sense considering the volume of cards that had to be purchased and then discarded when they became obsolete.
Added to that, the cost of labour and time spent sorting and replacing cards on the racks alongside the products. It also invited many errors.
There was no doubt that ensuring correct prices would have had a significant effect on profits.
I knew nothing about computers, I asked Norman if there was anything I could do, perhaps learn to program. He turned up a few days later and informed me that he had loaded a very basic system that would solve my problem. It was basic, indeed, carrying only a product number, the cost and selling price. I had no idea whether it had been sanctioned by management or not, he never told me.
Thank you, everyone, for your good wishes on my birthday. Time has passed so quickly that I have been out of touch with my normal routine. John, Liza and the children made such a fuss of me that I have had little time to be myself.
To get back to my story where I left off, I had just been provided with a computer programme that could record and provide reliable cost and selling prices.
At least it was a step in the right direction. It did not, however, eliminate the cards, they were still necessary for the generation of invoices. A team of university students was brought in and given the task of researching and listing many thousands of products together with their current prices.
It had been a mammoth task and had taken us to within a few days of Christmas. I happened to meet our current Chairman on the front stairwell and he instructed me to discontinue the project forthwith. I could understand that he was concerned that things might have gone wrong at a bad time.
I argued that much time and money had been spent and that students would not be available after Christmas. Besides, there was a probability that many prices would change in the new year. He turned away, angrily, saying, “Be it on your own head!”
All went well and without a hitch. My ‘head ‘ was safe for now although not filled with the pleasure of being thanked or appreciated. It all seemed so weird, so surreal. I was never really employed for this. It all developed naturally, one thing following on from the other.
At about this time, perhaps about 1975, I suggested that I should attend a seminar sponsored by the National Wholesale Druggists Association in America. When I arrived in America, the customs officials were so delighted with my visit. I was locked in a room while they investigated this drug-dealing organisation.
The seminar venue was impressive, a large hotel and it included a sunset boat trip on the local river. An astonishing sight greeted me as I entered the conference room. There were rows of table-top computers of all shapes and sizes. I had never seen a computer, only the thundering old ‘beast’ in our warehouse. At best, in those days, we had a handheld adding machine that could add, subtract and multiply… how about that!
I returned home fired up with excitement and enthusiasm. Upon giving my colleagues an account of all that I had experienced, I was told to calm down...it would never happen. “There was not a single pharmacy in the city that could afford a computer let alone understand it.”
I couldn't believe it, I had just gazed upon an array of inert, little beasts awaiting an opportunity to change our lives forever. They could record prescriptions, save them in memory before printing labels and calculating the price. They were enabled with spreadsheets, word processors and many of our normal basic needs.
I found the lethargy and short-sightedness of my colleagues so demeaning. There was so much resistance to everything. I felt that they could not see the future any more than they could see their own toenails. It was not that I had suddenly appeared with a wand in my hand.
Perhaps it was my INTJ personality type, a strategist or rational thinker. I had no great knowledge, only awareness and vision for facilitation.
I suppose if nothing else it was quite an exciting time for me. As time went on, I discovered that our buying clerks wrote all orders for the purchase of stock in longhand. No such thing as a computer or printer. Most of our suppliers were situated in Johannesburg, 570Km away.
Having determined the necessary stock to buy, orders were posted at the local post office. There were numerous suppliers so many letters were posted the next day. With exceptions, they were posted by normal post, it meant they went to Johannesburg by overnight train. Allowing for sorting and delivery there was considerable delay.
At the time, there was no overnight road delivery from Johannesburg, it was not permitted. Upon receipt of an order, a supplier would assemble the order and have it delivered to the local goods railway station. With luck, the order might be in time to catch an overnight goods train. There were further delays while the train was unloaded at its destination. Then, among the goods destined for others, we would get our delivery. It could take up to 3 weeks for an order to be received after the order was originally composed.
Consequently, I ordered a Telex Machine to transmit orders by telephone only to be informed that not many of our suppliers had a telex machine. No one seemed to be aware of a telex machine. A telex machine was a large heavy contraption that could produce a paper strip with punched holes. The holes represented the order that had been entered on the keyboard. When fed back through the machine it could transmit the order to a similar machine at the other end.
Eventually, overnight road deliveries were permitted and the telex machine became obsolete being replaced by a fax machine.
Bye the way, we are still in the 1970s. Now in 2020, just 50 years later it is all about ‘just in time’ and any delay can cause a crisis. The delay caused by Brexit and Covid resulted in as many as 5000 trucks being queued up waiting to cross the channel and enter France. We have come a long way in just 50 years.
To get back to the account of my career, having installed the telex machine there were no further immediate changes that involved me. The company was growing and we were severely short of space. We purchased the building on our left. Since the two buildings were about 2 metres apart, we connected them with mechanical conveyors. It was not the best solution but it was better than nothing.
The ground floor of the new building had been used for meat processing, producing polony and other meat products. Before we could occupy the building, we had to clean it. The floor was so filthy, we used fire hoses to flush it out.
Shortly after the clean-up had begun, I decided to go and see how things were progressing. I was stunned by the sight that confronted me. Being a large volume of water from the fire hoses, the street outside and the street gutters were running red with blood-stained water.
I vowed never to eat polony or related meat products again. While there are times when I am obliged to eat them, it is never with much relish.
The road at the back of the main building was level with the first floor. Incoming goods were delivered to the back and then filtered down to the operational floors. It was customary to unload delivery trailers using a team of labourers. It was hard to believe that no one had seen the light and purchased a fork truck to unload a pallet of goods at a time with one person.
Worse still, the goods were sent to the lower floors, carton by carton, down a chute. If the team of labourers on the lower floors were not attentive, cartons would smash into each other. It was not unusual to find one’s self walking in a sticky mess on the floor.
I could not believe that before my day, none of the management had taken the trouble to do something about it. I requested that the chute be dismantled and a mechanical hoist installed. Amidst mild resentment and quiet mutterings of ‘funny guy’ and ‘gadget man’, I finally had it my way.
Our order assembly staff were making many errors. Our one-hour delivery service was having many unforeseen consequences. Many pharmacies had grasped the opportunity to carry less stock. They learned to rely and depend on replenishment within an hour.
If they had made a promise to fulfil a prescription within the hour and they received the wrong item, I was always to blame. I was exhausted and so was my telephone. I always had to listen to a long account of how embarrassing it was or that they had lost business.
I would appeal to my doctor for help with my migraine headache that always reserved a Sunday to express itself. His reply would be that he could not help until I found another job.
Tommy, my dear old Tommy, was always on standby. He was so obliging and ready to repair the damage. He would commandeer any transport available and dash off to make reparation. Also, Barbara who understood and was always great support, she would work long hours without additional benefit. .
I was given assistance, usually a friend of the management, but it was never successful because having a relationship with the hierarchy, they always presumed to have co-management powers. I simply did not have time for conversations. It was made worse by them expressing opinions elsewhere. I think that my colleagues were not aware of the split-second timing that was necessary. They were aware of the money but not the volume of goods being processed.
All the insignificant wholesale suppliers within the city had terminated their businesses including an old established wholesaler. The last remaining powerful wholesale supplier was feeling the pressure but it survived because it dealt in sundry goods as well. The termination of these businesses increased the demand for items considerably.
Something had to be done about the picking errors. I composed a short, easily understood, document and called upon some of the more competent pickers to read it and to describe the content. The result was shocking, they were hopeless...and useless. I was not responsible for staff employment and I was treading on dangerous ground.
I discussed the problem with Myrtle, my wife, a remedial teacher. We decided that we should test for reading age before employing staff. It was going to be tricky for the fellow selecting staff was not that much more sophisticated. However, we conducted a trial run and found the reading age among potential employees to be unattainable.
While in the process of searching for suitable test material, we found a booklet that had several tests for reading skills. It had a short passage of text followed by several questions that tested reading and comprehension.
That seemed to work very well and Myrtle continued to test potential employees. It was not intended to be a permanent job but only an initial investigation.
As expected, Myrtle was chastised for her view by our CEO who considered the idea to be absurd. However, we continued with the project for about a month. Finally, I had to ask Myrtle to withdraw. One of the pharmacist ladies, who was employed with the intention of helping me generated a dispute in that we were favouring Christians.
As a consequence, we trained a young Indian lady, Maya, to continue with the project and it proved, over time, to be most successful. Maya was instructed to be impartial when confirming suitability. The Christian population continued to grow and many of the staff generated from that era remained with me for more than 5 years.
Upon making a tour of the warehouse one morning I noticed a stranger in the computer room. This Person Introduced himself as our new DP Manager. I was delighted and commented that there was much to be done. He looked at me and exclaimed: “I am not a programmer.” I was deflated.
Well, I pondered, what is he going to do with himself apart from giving me advice and attempting co-management.
At least I could have been introduced to him. I am supposed to be the “Managing Director” yet I am treated with contempt.
I was completely disillusioned and retreated to my office. What would have become of this business if I had not used my initiative and hit the ‘starter button. I could as easily have continued in the steps of my predecessor. The business would have continued at a modest pace as before. At the time of my employment, I am sure nothing more was expected of me. None other than being responsible to the Pharmacy Council for good pharmaceutical conduct. A very boring job at best!
I applied for the position of pharmaceutical warehouse manager and inherited the title of Managing Director. It was probably a requirement of the Pharmacy Council that the managing person should be a participant of the Board. However, the whole fiasco was a matter of delusion, deception and deceit. I probably would not have remained without the perceived authority to do what I did..
Changing the structure of the company and making it more attractive with an exclusive profit-sharing scheme is not enough. Considering the wide range of prescription medicines, pharmacies would welcome an efficient service to avoid carrying extensive stock. The service provided before I was employed as the worst imaginable.
From my perspective, it was folly to assume that the change in company policy had resulted in the surge of sales. However, I have no doubt that what happened bolstered the social and professional ego of the Chairman and those who served on the Board.
Thank you, Frances, for your sticker. I think that you, more than any other person could appreciate what I have written. You worked for the organisation for a number of years at the same time as i did . You must have an in-depth understanding of the situation.
I mulled over this subject for some time before writing it.
I could never conclude whether it was solely me, my evaluation or the misunderstanding of my intended position that was at fault. Throughout the period that I was employed, I had a very poor relationship with colleagues that were above me in status.
I simply was not one of them in personal interests or outlook. I would prefer to go home and be with my family rather than to sit consuming alcohol in the boardroom on a Friday night.
I must admit, I was granted a lot of freedom to introduce or change things but there was a complete lack of comradeship. I cannot claim that I enjoyed an aura of happiness about me but I felt fulfilled by what I achieved.
It is probable that my INTJ personality had much to do with it. I am nevertheless sceptical of the fact that we can all fit into precise categories. At the same time, I am obliged to agree that looking back at my life experiences, at school and various social situations there is a strong correlation. I have always dwelt, to some degree, in a foreign universe with my atypical and diverse interests.
I was standing in the street alongside one of my male staff. He turned to me pointing to an open window, he remarked that he could climb through the window including between the burglar bars. I doubted that although I admit that the bars were further apart than usual.
After encouraging him to show me, he scaled the window and slithered inside between the bars. I had always noticed that many of my Indian staff were very slightly built. In my ignorance, I had always assumed that it was common for those particular people to have that build.
Was it something to do with poor nutrition in their early years, I wondered? I thereupon set about asking each of them if they had eaten before travelling to work. The majority had not eaten and some had consumed a cup of coffee.
Thinking that it was probably a contributory cause of picking errors, I arranged for a small tub of ProNutro to be consumed by all upon arrival at the warehouse.
Pronutro consists of proteins that are easily digestible. It contains 18 essential vitamins and minerals, all that is needed to keep one going. The project was well received and appreciated. This initial project led to an area being set aside for formal eating and relaxation. Eventually, as the staff grew, cooked meals were provided.
Since change is thought to unshackle one’s creative energy, I was rummaging about the warehouse one day looking for something with which I could revitalise the world. I came across a stack of unfamiliar boxes. Being inquisitive, I opened one of the boxes and found it to be full of bulk vitamin tablets.
It felt like finding treasure on a deserted beach. How did these get here? They were not part of our customary stock. I made some cautious enquiries but was unable to find a credible reason for their presence.
Since they were so clouded in mystery, I suggested that we bottle them and promote them as our range of vitamin supplements. It was agreed, so I set about designing labels and promotional material. I could not understand why some of them were such obscure and unfamiliar supplements like Lecithin.
I engaged a young advertising consultant and together we devised a label and strategy. He suggested we call the range “Suntime Vitamins” and each variant to have a bright, distinctive colour. The idea was that they would be mood-elevating and that they would stand out on a pharmacy shelf.
I thought the idea was stunning! It was met with mediocrity and could not be used unless other directors agreed. I showed it around but it was similarly met with indifference.
Back in the office, I concluded that I could not go on like this, either give it up or leave it to someone else. Someone had to make a decision and I did, regardless of the consequences.
My consultant engaged a cartoonist who designed a range of small images for media advertising along with slogans like, “Have you had yours today…?”
I sponsored a large sports gathering at a central park along with young models from a local agency. The girls wore a Suntime sash across their shoulders and were told to mix with the crowd.
On that day, I never met a customer, board member or colleague, they were all informed of the meeting. Back in the office, the next day, no comment was made.
Sales continued to grow slowly, it needed someone with the knowledge to visit customers and encourage them, especially for the lesser-known supplements. The project was finally given to another party in Johannesburg who renamed the range Alpha-Vitamins using dark rust coloured labels.
I heard nothing more about the vitamins, I assume they just faded away.
Shortly after our new data processing manager joined us, a new IBM System 36 computer arrived. I knew nothing of the impending change, I should have anticipated it. He was not a programmer, so what was he going to do with himself?
The new equipment was not lacking in its ability to provide for our needs, there must have been some prior preparation. The equipment was set up to replace the old machine with 10 monitors lined up on a bench in a spare room.
The formidable monitors looked like 10 savage one-eyed cyclops just waiting for the signal to devour anyone in sight.
It was all very new to us. The original knitting circle of ladies headed for the nearest exit, each proclaiming, ”I’ll have none of that!!”.
In a hurry, we had to train new staff for customer orders . A selection of possible candidates were selected from the warehouse staff. Just as well we had instituted a competency evaluation. I doubt that we would have found any within the original staff.
The chosen ladies tackled the challenge with enthusiasm. A non-threatening system was set up for them to practice and learn.
All that heralded the end of the punched card era with their clutter and mess. Our world changed very rapidly from that point. The fax machine replaced the telex and before long customers were transmitting orders via an attachment to the telephone. The volume of sales and the pressure on the warehouse was escalating.
We were undergoing rapid change now. Many old established pharmacies had closed or disappeared. They were either poorly located or had been replaced by more modern supermarket concepts. It was as I had anticipated when I worked in London in 1959. It was now early 1980 and computers were becoming commonplace.
And so it came to pass…
Our DP Manager unexpectedly lurched clumsily through the door of my office clutching a large cardboard box. “I’ve just received this desktop computer on loan, I thought you might like to tinker with it”, he said, while stripping it of its packaging. There it was, just as I had seen on my visit to the conference in America. Together, we explored it while mindlessly stumbling and tramping around on the discarded polystyrene blocks.
I recalled being advised by one of our directors, after my visit to the conference in America, that I should “Just relax, computers would never materialise here, no one could afford or even understand one”.
This was a “Radio Shack” computer. Radio Shack was a division of the Tandy Corporation in America. Bill Gates appeared in a Tandy 2000 computer advertisement in 1985 extolling the virtues of his newest software product, MS Windows. “Tandy 2000 systems start at $2999”, the advertisement stated, “Come in today and see what you have been missing”.
Using the handbook and information I managed to glean, I wrote a program from scratch in Basic language for use in a pharmacy. It did not take long, it was very primitive. No ‘bells or whistles’ just the ‘basics’. It could record a prescription, save it and print labels. Given the price of the products used, it could calculate the dispensed price including addition for broken bulk.
As always it was met with a pessimistic expectation. The Charman queried whether anything worthwhile could come from a ‘RadioShack’. Before returning the machine it was decided to enlist a person in Johannesburg to develop it further.
It was expected that I should make an occasional visit to Johannesburg to advise. I never met the person nor did I ever oblige.
I have no idea of what became of the project, I concluded that if I could do it why should someone else not be able to do it too.
The greatest mistake I made was not to follow the computer back to the lender and make a new life for myself. Considering the volume of prescriptions dispensed today, I can safely conclude that no pharmacy could do without a computer of this nature.
Back to the warehouse. We employed a full-time nursing sister, Cathy, to care for the wellbeing of the staff. Her duties included an interview with staff that had been absent and any persistent absence without cause was referred to me.
Cathy assisted staff that had financial difficulties and often negotiated with a creditor for more time to settle a debt. She also managed Fedics who were providing meals for the staff.
The outcome was a very contented staff who, I am sure, did their best for the wellbeing of the Company. Cathy was a great help to me along with Barbara who had worked for the business, from its conception almost 40 years earlier.
Barbara could undertake any challenge and deal with it effectively. She often worked long hours just to provide support for me. Unfortunately, Barbara enjoyed little recognition for her efforts from our colleagues. Both women were aware of the tensions and always provided an understanding assessment of the day to day pressures. They provided me with much-needed support, by not having them to talk to, I am not sure that I would have stayed too long.
Simply, for the sake of a perk, I would take either of them with me when I visited our branch in Northern Natal. There were times when I invited others because it was a long dreary four-hour journey each way. For no other reason, I visited the branch to engender a feeling of belonging and unity.
My monthly visits persisted for some time until I was accosted by our CEO in a corridor and he informed me that he had received a complaint about an opinion I held about their staff. He instructed me not to have anything to do with them.
I was very relieved because I had never relished the journey and neither did I ever feel very welcome. One night the hotel security called me to inform me that all the wheels of my car had been removed. It could only have been by members of their staff.
Looking back, it is beyond me to understand how I had progressed to this status, having a certain level of authority and yet I had none. My status was never officially recognised yet I somehow naturally drifted into undertaking tasks where others had no vision.
By now, the warehouse had settled down to a relatively stable routine. We had overcome many of our shortcomings but we were still operating from the linked buildings. Operations continued as usual although clumsy and far from ideal.
We scoured the countryside seeking a more suitable building or land that suited us, locality was paramount. Nothing we found provided access or a location appropriate for the service we offered.
Almost by divine intervention, the building on the right of us, a general wholesaler, prepared to close down. It consisted of three floors each floor about three times the size of any one of our floors. Nothing could have been more suitable for our purposes.
There was road access to the top floor allowing for goods received to be offloaded and then filter down to operations. The first floor was ideal for administration and the ground floor perfect for operations. Nothing, but nothing, could have been better provided.
For the sake of personal interest and fulfillment, I drew a true to scale plan of the ground floor. I included an operational layout that I considered to be the ideal.
I have no idea what progressed from that point. My drawing was not intended for anything else other than my personal interest. I may have shown it to others but it was not intended to be a proposition.
I was accosted in the corridor, our usual venue for being redressed, and instructed to refrain from influencing the consultant that had been hired to design the materials handling floor. “The consultant was merely mirroring your ideas”, he said. I had no idea that there was a consultant, I was never introduced to one nor had I seen the person concerned.
A weird relationship that I had with my peers and for that matter with all the members of the Board.
Life had always been the same for the past 20 years. It always seemed that it was by the divine intention that I had even been given the position or the title.
I never expected it, nor did I propose it, but my plan was allowed to evolve without alteration. It was a natural progression, the process was organised in the background and took place as we progressed. I merely managed it as it happened.
Moving an entire business of this nature into a new location is a massive undertaking. Thankfully, I had nothing to do with the administrative planning or the gutting and restoration of the old buildings. Just the operational side alone consisted of many thousands of items like small packs of tablets.
As was expected, I organised and supervised the move. Along with Barbara and my team of floor supervisors, we moved the entire operation in about a week and without losing a days sales. Had an outside team been employed, I shudder to think of the chaos that would have ensued.
Along with our DP Manager's cooperation, we installed a printer linked to the mainframe. That would have been impossible in a remote facility. When the time came to move, we informed the computer staff of all the products we intended to move as a batch.
As soon as one of our delivery vans became available, we quickly assembled the batch we had prepared and sent it next door. The goods were then hurriedly installed on the shelves. All orders for those products printed on the alternative printer were picked, packed and merged within a delivery.
The operation proceeded faultlessly and smoothly. I am awed by the progression of what had taken place from the initial seeking of an alternative building. I am aware that there may be readers eager to tell me that, "Oh, that was just coincidence". But when I reflect upon all that has transpired and all the mini coincidences that we're necessary, I would be hard-pressed to be persuaded that there was not an element of divine intervention.
Following the move to the new building, there is no question that all looked very good. The administrative suite was impressive, including a plush board room and offices. There was a large conference room, a canteen area and a modern kitchen.
From an operational point of view, it was perfect. Everything was flowing correctly and needed little supervision. It was as though I had made myself redundant. The senior staff on the operations floor had walkie-talkies improving coordination and considerably aiding the thruput of work.
The top floor, divided into two, served to dispatch customer orders and to receive incoming goods. Two long mechanical conveyors connected the top floor with the two lower floors one up to dispatch and the other down.
The cost of the conveyors and the picking racks was minimal as I used all the old equipment. It was a matter of hurriedly dismantling the old and reconstructing as we progressed in the new location.
I am still left staggered by the way everything was so precisely and naturally coordinated. Sailor, one of my trusted team, excelled himself and did a magnificent job putting it all together. I had trained Sailor some years before to be our handyman and carpenter.
Installation of the conveyors gave me many anxious moments. They had to be at a precise gradient to avoid goods tumbling—openings in a heavily-reinforced floor were necessary. Armed with my high school trigonometry, I marked out the position for the holes. The conveyor had to start at a precise location and height from the floor then end on the ground floor at the roller conveyor's beginning and height.
I asked for my markings for the openings to be checked and verified before cutting through the concrete. Nothing happened before I came upon a team busy cutting the floor.
Thankfully, it was a great job well done.
For me, all was not harmonious. I could sense the change; it was palpable. I could feel it and could see it.
People changed, perceptions of status and attitudes shifted. The executive suite brought people competitively closer. Within the process of planning, the business had become more departmentally splintered fostering interdepartmental discontent.
The delivery system, among others, was usually the scapegoat. The criticisms were frequently incorrect and resulted in friction between the CEO and myself.
Upon one occasion, I received a lengthy handwritten rebuke following dissatisfaction about a driver. Upon investigation, I found the whole issue to be erroneous. I replied in the same way by sending a handwritten reply and suggested that I resign. That promptly drew apologies.
At times, I wondered if all these occurrences might be a means by someone to gain access to the principal office to promote self-ego and acceptance.
Oddly, one morning while walking along a corridor, I had an uneasy feeling that all this was about to end for me. I passed the computer room door just as the senior staff were emerging from morning tea. I was never in favour of the location or the occasion. It was only a venue for scandal. Glum faced, they all passed me by, and I sensed that there was an atmosphere.
I had a gut feel that my end would be abrupt and without a justifiable reason or ceremony.
By coincidence, I came across a media comment that a new distribution company had invited a logistics expert from Germany to assist and advise. It was just at the time that the ANC government had gained power in South Africa. It stimulated my curiosity, and I became aware of snippets of applicable information.
Finally, it came to me that some of our suppliers had a part in the new company. I warned our CEO that it sounded threatening and that we should investigate. He considered it unimaginable and took no notice until I persisted. Together, we went to Johannesburg to interview some of our principal providers.
Over lunch, they said, "It's inconceivable, we would never do that or withhold product from you"... but they did!
Shortly after the visit, statements were being made in the press that a new company would soon be responsible for distributing pharmaceuticals, I presume countrywide.
Comments expressed in the media were strongly unethical, especially in terms of Pharmacy Council rules. The statements and advertisements in the press continued for some time. I was especially disturbed that the Council never cautioned them. Our board members and wholesalers similar to us all had board members that were pharmacists. I was also baffled because no one had even queried the legality of the new company's intentions.
I held my peace for it was not my problem, or so I thought. It all worked out in my favour in the end.
Being the Managing Director, I received a letter from the new distribution company. It stated that it would be the sole distributor of all the medicinal products from our principal suppliers in the future. The letter provided a commencement date and suggested we return all applicable goods to our suppliers for credit.
There was not much stock that I needed to return. Stock does not last long in a just-in-time environment, and it was not being replenished. Not being able to supply caused a ruckus.
Perhaps I should have informed my customers but to inform them and explain the reasons would be to promote the new company. Needless to say, the new company was not geared up either, so it caused a hiatus.
Not my problem, I had no stock and could not replenish it. The new company should have informed the pharmacies concerned and have arranged to receive orders from them.
Earlier on, I had received an anonymous telephone call offering me employment at a salary of my choice. I was nearing retirement, and I had a suspicion of what was going on. I had no desire to be disloyal to my company, nor did I wish to get entangled in the ensuing tumult.
I had a good idea of who was responsible for the offer. An independent and long-established pharmaceutical chain experiencing revenue loss aimed to introduce an independent and surreptitious distributor to 'corner' and block the market, to regain superiority and lost revenue.
I was not invited to meetings that our CEO was having with mutual wholesalers from around the country. His aim as I understood it was to merge them into a conglomerate. I can imagine that if the chain in question had wind of it, they would see it as a threat and would need to come up with an alternative smart solution.
At this point, I was in a predicament. I had no idea who the new company was or how they proposed to conduct their business.
Did they have a distribution warehouse somewhere nearby? They would need a fleet of delivery vehicles, and would it be viable with a limited range of product? Is their operation countrywide, or were we the only target?
Is it possible that they will negotiate with other of our suppliers and increase their range? They had made a bad start, obviously unprepared.
Many of my experienced staff are long-serving and loyal. Who and how many should I dismiss? If this new business should turn out to be unacceptable or unworkable, will I be left short of staff?
From my perspective, the future may be bleak, very bleak! On the other hand, they may lack the expertise; there are not too many Glyn Kearneys about.
If our management knew anything about it, they did not inform me. That was the norm; I had perceived authority but lacked the requisite powers or feed-back.
For some reason unknown to me or anyone else, the CEO summoned all senior staff to the board room. He was on the telephone at the time, so we all accumulated at the board room door. That in itself was unusual; it was customary for us all to enter the room and find a seat.
While standing at the door, one of our team announced that we should stay silent during the meeting. To talk or reply would carry a risk of dismissal.
All was going well until our young security officer sitting next to the CEO responded to something that the CEO said. I saw the CEO stiffen up. Our security officer was not wrong, and I attempted to defend him. With that, the CEO abruptly stood up and clumsily left the room.
The next morning, I had barely made contact with my office chair's seat when the CEO entered. He arrived red in the face and just about to explode. He stood leaning forward against my desk, fists clenched while exhibiting aggressive body language. I was thankful that there was a desk between us.
He announced that he was sick and tired of me and that I should say farewell to my friends and be gone by 4 pm. I watched him march away like a victorious Roman General on a White Horse. I called after him, "You will never find another Glyn Kearney." I don't know what he expected me to do, perhaps to stumble after him begging mercy? At least, for once, we understood and agreed with each other.
There was simply no justification for the expulsion. Leaving the warehouse keys on my desk, I prepared to leave. I began to remove my nameplate from the door when I decided to allow it to remain; it would serve to 'smile' at him each time he passed. I thereupon bolted for the exit never to return.
I was not significantly distressed by the termination of my career. After leaving the warehouse, I sat at the Durban Beachfront and watched the waves rolling in. I needed time to be alone and recover my peace.
On my way home, I called in to see our company accountant at his office to tell him what had happened. He and his partner thought it amusing; they had experienced a similar event. "Now you will be ostracised by everybody", they said, and they were not wrong.
Any status I may have had was gone, I was nothing. It was as though the past 25 years of my life had just vanished—in an instant, something like a soap bubble that popped, leaving nothing behind.
I was very much alone, and I felt it. Any friends I might have had apart from Barbara and Cathy had vanished along with the bubble.
Before leaving, I met with Barbara and Cathy, together with a couple of the warehouse supervisory staff. I thanked them for past support. I warned them that they would experience a similar event despite having been with the business for over 40 years.
For weeks, I had predicted my dismissal even to the fact that it would be without ceremony. Needless to say that it was a relief not to be responsible or involved in the coming tumult.
There was a mysterious atmosphere that descended upon the business. Something changed; it was beyond me to interpret. Was it stress, confusion or simply self-doubt on behalf of our CEO? Perhaps I was seen as a threat that resulted in the suppression of my participation.
Whatever it was, I never went near the place again. I believe that things became exceedingly despairing before they recovered.
Perhaps Mike Hemming or Frances Engelbrecht might like to give a summary of the events that followed.
However, I was not alone. I had a personal mentor that might convince my readers that there was an element of divine intention.
Shortly before leaving, I attended a travel agent meeting as a Travel Africa representative. There was a lucky draw at the end of the session, and I was the lucky winner.
The prize consisted of a visit to a very remote game ranch on a date of my choice. It involved motoring to Johannesburg and from there a rather lengthy flight in a light aircraft.
I decided that it was just the experience that Myrtle and I needed to escape and take our minds off the current stressful situation.
It was a long flight initially over valleys and gullies and finally typical African savannah with scattered thorn trees. While in the air, there was nothing to be seen except the typical unending African shrubbery. We landed on a rough makeshift airstrip before being transported to the lodge.
We had not realised the remarkably concealed lodge was even there. Being the kind of visitors we were, we immediately boarded a game viewing vehicle. Along with other visitors, we had a short ride while viewing the game.
Finally, we stopped next to a vast spherical boulder. It was massive, at least three stories high. Fascinated, I walked around to the back and found that the wind had built a bridge to the top. Standing on the top, I could see for miles around. There were no similar boulders to be seen anywhere near us.
As I was about to leave, a German lady joined me. While chatting, she explained that she was the wife of a logistics expert. He was to oversee the formation of a pharmaceutical distribution company that was soon to commence. I was shocked and left awestruck.
Could all this be real? Was I suffering a hallucination? Did I travel this great distance to stand on top of a massive boulder in the wilderness to receive confirmation of divine collaboration?
The size of the boulder, the access, the timing and the messenger are all significant. Where else might all four be coordinated and brought together at the same moment?
8 February 2012
When it comes to having an experience like my massive boulder encounter, I tend to take it as a solemn confirmation of divine intention. It is not the first time in my life that I have had exceptional experiences. Usually, when I try to share an experience of this nature with another, it is not uncommon for the response to be, "Oh, it is only a coincidence".
In reality, by examining the circumstances or mini coincidences necessary for it to happen, it has to be more than a chance coincidence for the main event to occur.
Earlier, I had described how I had travelled an extensive distance in a light aircraft to a remote game ranch. Standing on a large boulder while viewing game, I met a German lady who joined me. While chatting, she explained that she was the wife of a logistics expert. He was to oversee the formation of a pharmaceutical distribution company. Apparently, the one that was soon to disrupt the job I had just abandoned.
The chances of that encounter were as remote and unlikely as the boulder itself. Soon after that experience, Myrtle and I visited Peter and Fiona in Sydney, Australia. While there, we were taken to a communal barbecue in a public recreation area. There were numerous people all with fires going, I was standing next to a fire chatting to one of Peter's friends.
While knawing on a piece of chorizo sausage, I was asked about what I did for a living, the usual small talk. I explained how a particular startup company had made incursions to our specific field of service. He raised his eyebrows in response, "Oh yes", he said. " Was involved in the setup of that company, "I facilitated their meetings''.
There again, I was met with divine confirmation as if to say, "I've not finished with you yet!"
Thank you, Peter, for posting the document written by Matthew Shultz. I have to admit that it seems to be a fascinating and accurate account of my personality type and situation.
Matthew mentioned that in the case of peculiar characteristics that persistently defy the standard order, it would almost certainly resort to hobbling and maiming to the incapacity point.
He quoted, "Uncommonness is the single-most commonly censured human characteristic".
He wrote, "Suppose the uniqueness is suppressed and manoeuvred to conform, then be prepared for efforts, talents, and struggles to go largely unappreciated".
Matthew went on to say that if the eccentric behaviour proved too exceptional to eradicate or contain, it is forcibly "broken in" and primed for destruction. The standard order is definitively ill-equipped to tolerate the unconventional.
I was not overly disturbed by the ejection from my job. I had nothing to lose except for my honour. It was not my business, and I had nothing to lose or gain from its growth or value. Although I was a quasi director, I had no status, no pharmacy, no investment in the company; it was just a job.
There is a saying that, "we grow too soon old and too late wise". Astonishingly, I have had to grow to my age before being enlightened. The account of the situation is certainly to the point.
I carry no grudge; I had a feeling of fulfilment. If anything, I am grateful that I had the opportunity to be involved as I was. The "climate" prevailed almost from the day I joined the company.
I had little to do with the company after my departure in 1996. Shortly before I left, the company changed its name to Alpha Pharm. At the time, a few pharmaceutical wholesalers scattered around South Africa had a similar structure that involved distributing profits back to participating customers.
Alpha Pharm went through a series of ups and downs after I left. In 2014 the South African Competition Commission approved a merger of similar wholesalers into a single company.
A Swiss firm, Shogun Holdings und Finanz contributed an R350 million investment for a 51 per cent shareholding toward the merger. At the same time, the participating 920 pharmacies held the remaining 49 percent.
I had little to do with the company after my departure in 1996. Shortly before I left, the company changed its name to Alpha Pharm. At the time, a few pharmaceutical wholesalers scattered around South Africa had a similar structure that involved distributing profits back to participating customers.
Alpha Pharm went through a series of ups and downs after I left. In 2014 the South African Competition Commission approved a merger of similar wholesalers into a single company.
A Swiss firm, Shogun Holdings und Finanz contributed an R350 million investment for a 51 per cent shareholding toward the merger. At the same time, the participating 920 pharmacies held the remaining 49 per cent.
Headquartered in Zurich, Switzerland, the Shogun Holding Und Finanz AG provides investment services.
There is no doubt that the Swiss company's investment and the merger had a rejuvenating effect on retail pharmacy and the wholesaling service.
There is no doubt that the Swiss company's investment and the merger had a rejuvenating effect on retail pharmacy and the wholesaling service.
