21 1960 – 1963: I join Woolworths, and we set off on a new adventure…

21 <> 1960 – 1963: I join Woolworths, and we set off on a new adventure…

Living in Durban once again, not far from the city centre, we were also now able to get to the City Library where I discovered Dostoyevsky and, starting with “Crime And Punishment”, devoured every work of his available at the Library. “Crime And Punishment”, with it’s tragic hero Raskolnikov, still remains one of my favourite books of all time as it confronts one of the great mysteries in this life of how some men arise, such as Napoleon, Hitler or Saddam Hussein, who seem to be above all law as they dominate and trample underfoot all before them and are seldom brought to book. There are other contemporary examples today, but the institution of the International Court of Justice is starting to provide redress in some quarters, though these culprits are all ‘small fry’ in a world where the invisible forces of wealth-acquisition machinery manipulate the fate of nations, directing the fortunes of war this way or that to suit their own purposes. I am not into ‘conspiracy theories’ as such: the ‘conspiracy’ is an automatic meeting of minds in pursuit of the goal of ever-increasing hoards of wealth. Raskolnikov’s rambling thought-processes resonated in my own soul, adding fuel to that inner rebellion against the world’s great injustices and the seeming meaninglessness of life.

During this period books about UFO’s (Unidentified Flying Objects) proliferated and I devoured everyone I could get hold of. The idea intrigued me and I was definitely a ‘believer’ for quite a few years of my life. Thinking back, it was probably part of that same lingering ‘me’ that considered life meaningless, dreaming of escape to a greater truth. Had I known the Bible at the time, I would have cherished the words of the Psalmist when he said “Oh that I had wings like a dove! Then would I fly away, and be at rest”.

However, at a conscious level there was now no place for that sentiment in my life. I had a good life with  DorothyAnne, a home of our own, friends and a job, but deep down there was still this sense of something missing. I was searching for something and was yet to go down several blind alleys. I answered an advert placed by the Rosicrucians promising practitioners of their system complete mind power and mastery over all things (maybe I exaggerate, but that is how I remember the promises made). I wrote away for, and received, their literature but right at the outset when they required that I set up a sanctuary in a corner with a candle and other things, this really offended  DorothyAnne’s Anglican-Christian senses, and it also freaked me out as being that ‘religious thing’ again. I dumped the literature, but was still vulnerable. One of my colleagues at kwaMashu was a Mormon who tried to interest me in his Church, and succeeded to the extent that I bought a copy of “The Book Of Mormon” and read it. It was very interesting but it did not turn me on. I should have mentioned earlier that Jeanette and her mother were Christian Scientists and because of them I had obtained (Jeanette and her mother may have given it to me) a copy of Mary Baker Eddy’s book ‘Science And Health With Key To The Scriptures’. I read it and it was very interesting but it was about God and I had no belief in a god of any sort. Somewhere around this time I had also bought a copy of the Koran, but with the same result. Religion of any sort just did not register with me. I went with  DorothyAnne to her Anglican Church at times but could not enter into the spirit of it; I didn’t attempt to sing the hymns and when they all knelt in prayer I remained sitting with my eyes open. I must admit that it is all very strange — I don’t know how I had attained such a resistance to all things to do with religious faith.

By that time Tony Tapson and Sheila were married and  DorothyAnne and I were on regular visiting terms with them. Tony suggested that I should apply for a job at Woolworths for whom he worked (I had probably been complaining about the work at kwaMashu). He thought it was a good company to work for and I would like the career opportunity with them. I went for an interview with the Divisional Superintendent, completed the application form, and a few weeks later got a letter from the Personnel Manager at the Head Office in Cape Town offering me a position as trainee manager starting at the Durban Store. I accepted.  DorothyAnne and I went to Woolfson’s Mens’ Outfitters in West Street and bought two suits on credit — suitable equipment for the new career.

The training went well enough and I enjoyed the work amid the counters and the merchandise, but something was still missing. I should have been happy. I was happily married to  DorothyAnne who loved me very much, I had a job which held out great promise for a fulfilling career but it still wasn’t working for me. I thought that it was a lack of confidence in my own ability ‘to deliver’– which was and still is true — so when someone recommended the Dale Carnegie course, I went for it. It was good and I did develop some techniques for overcoming or hiding that lack of confidence. It is strange how some things stick in the mined! One such thing was having to stand up at one of the Dale Carnegie sessions and say with all the vehemence possible, “I know men in the ranks who will stay in the ranks because they simply haven’t the ability to get things done!” That piece stuck in my mind and I called upon it often in later life when I seemed to be faltering at something. I also took away from there an appreciation of “A Message To Garcia”, an inspiring document written by Elbert Hubbard (no, that is not the L R Hubbard who founded Scientology).

Dale Carnegie helped, but it wasn’t quite “it”.

In 1962, after a wait of eighteen months, our call came from the Durban Welfare Office and we received Andrew into our family. Then to add to our joy, in spite of the contrary medical prognosis,  DorothyAnne did fall pregnant and, just fourteen months after Andrew arrived, Jenny was born.

Living in town within an easy bus-ride of the shop in West Street, I no longer needed the car to get to work so  DorothyAnne took driving lessons with Basil Fosteras and obtained her licence so that she could use the car. That made it a lot easier for her to get to town to do shopping with Andrew and Jenny. In those days traffic was not too congested and parking was always available in the Pine Street Parking Garage near the centre of town.

Something amusing was in process in the neighbourhood which later became a factor in our lives. There was work being done on a building site just down the road from Weinemore Court with a sign saying “Assembly Of God”, and beneath that, “Owner Builder”. That made it into the newspaper at the time! We watched progress day by day as a temporary wooden structure gave way to bricks and mortar.

At about this time, Mrs. Martens, Boet’s grandmother, told me that my mother was alive and working at the Nest Hotel in the Drakensberg, but it took  DorothyAnne to persuade me to “let go and forgive”. I wrote to Mum and received a prompt reply, and after that she and I wrote to each other but didn’t see each other until some years later.

I made good progress with the training and in due course I was informed by letter dated 4th December, 1963, from the personnel Manager in Cape Town that “Consequent upon you having completed your full range of tests, you are promoted to the position of Departmental Manager at a salary of R200 per month effective 1st January, 1964″. Wow — that was a lot of money for  DorothyAnne and me in those days!

I was (and I confess it) very nervous in the face of authority. I would be either almost too nervous to talk, or sometimes I would explode in an angry outburst (I explained in a previous chapter how I reacted when questioned by the Engineer-in-charge in my first job). I suppose that is my particular ‘fight or flight’ response, but I don’t think I ever really lacked courage. Years later, when I was a Manager at the Company Head Office, in the Merchandise Administration Department, my friend Simon, who was the Executive in charge of the section, said of me in an Annual Assessment, “Management style requires more authority and colour. Seems to worry that the “Goods are not being delivered”. Lack of confidence?” That fairly pinpointed the cause of my “Seventy-percenter” performance at all stages in my career in whatever job. Whether it is a genes or nurture thing, I cannot know, but our daughter, Suzanne, who is a Graduate in Psychology, will probably ascribe it to the early experiences of the death of my brother and of being deserted by my mother. She will probably be correct — such experiences are sufficient to generate a vague distrust of the world and of people in general, a wariness of what life or a person will do next, whether it be breaking a relationship by death, or by harsh words, or by desertion.

The Managing Director (CEO) of the Company, Mr. David Susman, made periodic visits to the branches around the country. He was a very nice man so there was absolutely no reason for me to be nervous of him except for that lack of confidence that has been with me all my life (and which undoubtedly held me back at times in my career). In mitigation of my conduct, however, everyone else in the branch was also made nervous by his visits! I remember an occasion when he arrived unannounced at the Pine Street entrance of the store. Someone spotted him at the top of the steps (at that entrance there were steps leading down to the sales-floor) and said “There is Mr. Susman!” and next thing the other three Departmental Managers had disappeared from the floor leaving me to receive the MD. Having greeted him, I asked a supervisor to phone upstairs to tell the Manager and the Divisional Superintendent that Mr. Susman had arrived and I then accompanied him on a tour of the floor, giving such information as I could about the merchandise and the state of trade, while waiting for the Manager and Divisional Superintendent to arrive. They took a long time! As we walked, the MD kept looking to see if they were coming down the stairs from the office, or emerging from the lift, but nothing was happening. I asked a supervisor to phone upstairs again to find out what had happened to them, and eventually they came down together, and I was relieved of my responsibility of answering the MD’s questions about the merchandise. The unexpected visit had sent panic throughout the branch — I was not alone!

I began to waver again. Louis, the Internal Auditor, had more of a back-office job, not too exposed to the company hierarchy. I began to think that that sort of career in the Company would be better suited to my personality, so I approached the Personnel Director on his visit to the branch for a change in position. The immediate result was a letter from the Personnel Manager in Head Office, dated 14th January, 1964, saying: “We have discussed this matter at great length and . . . . . . . and I think that you will be well advised to keep on with your managerial career for the present and we can at a later stage consider the possibility of transferring you to administration work. . . . . . the experience which you will gain in this manner will be invaluable to you in any administrative post which you may subsequently attain.”

I should have been at peace. With the future set before me, and with Andrew and Jenny now with us, much had changed in my life since the early days but I still suffered under that feeling of complete inadequacy which, I suppose, was what fueled the thoughts that I had always had that life was completely meaningless. I was in this state when President John F. Kennedy of the United States of America was assassinated on the 22nd of November 1963, an event that was to turn my life around completely. But I will come to that later.

I was asked periodically to take a garment home for a wearer trial. This was a joint effort between me and  DorothyAnne — I would wear it, DorothyAnne would wash and iron it, then I would write a report to be submitted to the Buying Office. With  DorothyAnne’s training as an Home Economics teacher she was able to put names to the various components and comment on them. These reports probably had some bearing upon my later transfer to the Buying Department in Head Office (analysing procedures and writing reports was definitely one of my strengths which served me well in my later position as Executive, first in the Merchandise Administration Department   and then in the Internal Administration Department of Head Office — it was this aspect of my job that I enjoyed the most.) The day came that the Divisional Superintendent asked me if I would consider a transfer to Head Office to a position as Trainee Buyer in the Menswear Group. This came following on a visit to the branch by a Buyer from the Menswear Group who put my name forward to fill a vacancy in that office.  DorothyAnne and I considered this and I accepted.

We were due to depart for Cape Town in a month’s time, allowing us time to give notice at the flat and make final arrangements, when a complication set in concerning my Dad. We went up to New Hanover to say farewell to him. I came away feeling uneasy because he didn’t seem to be at all well. As usual, he said nothing but it was quite obvious. Back at work on Monday, I phoned the doctor in New Hanover to ask if he would go and see Dad, but he said he couldn’t do that unless he was specifically asked by Dad to come. The following weekend, I went up alone to see Dad and came away in even more of a dilemma. It was too late to change our departure date for Cape Town; our flights were booked and arrangements concluded for our furniture to be packed and taken away and for our car to be put on a train to Cape Town. So we went, planning to find a suitable house as soon as we arrived so that Dad could be brought down to live with us.

Our new adventure was about to begin. We placed Puddles, our dog, in the care of Jeanette who would send her down to us when we were settled in a house, said our goodbyes to all our friends in Durban and left with Andrew and Jenny on a twin-engined Skymaster on the flight via Bloemfontein to Cape Town.

However, before that call to Cape Town, and while still undergoing training in Durban store, I had an experience which substantially changed my life and set a new course for the future. I tell of that in the next chapter.