Microstory 2548: Head of Security

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Some people confuse me with Mr. Tipton’s personal bodyguard, and when I explain the difference, they usually wanna know which one of us is the other’s boss. The answer is neither. We don’t even work in the same department. He’s in Personal Support, and I’m in Facilities. His only responsibility is the safety of the primary asset, and mine is to the Foundation as a whole, which primarily means our headquarters. There aren’t as many on my team as I would like, but the truth is that we’re not doing it alone. The Guides and Queuers are trained in their own way, and are on the lookout for trouble and vulnerabilities. Not all of us who actually are Security proper are even armed, so the difference is sometimes logistical. I can’t order them around, I guess that’s the thing, but the rest of the staff is always very aware and prepared. I’m not sure there’s anyone who doesn’t know first aid and CPR, at least. Everyone has a profound interest in protecting the organization, and its primary. We didn’t apply to work here because the pay looked good, or it was close to home, or because we couldn’t find anything else. You have to have passion and heart, and the hiring managers know how to filter for that. They’re directed and trained to look for it in interviews. It’s not too hard to find when you pull in the kind of numbers that our Staff Services department does. Everyone wants to work here, so choosing someone who will fight to keep it safe and secure just sort of happens on its own. Look at me, talking mostly about staffing, as if that’s my concern. I’m not worried about them at all. I’m worried about the thousands of people wandering around the building day in, day out. Everyone gets sick. It doesn’t matter if you’re nice, mean, well-intentioned, or demonic; you might need a cure, and the application process does not screen for personality traits. It operates on a first come, first serve basis, so we’re pretty much the last and only defense against genuine threats. We never know where they’re coming from, or who might be perpetrating them. I’m not saying that there have been any major on-the-ground issues, but we have to stay alert at all times. Mostly, we run into patients who believe they’ve been cut in line, or they have a perception that they’ve been waiting for longer than others. If someone has been sick their whole life, waiting a couple hours to be free from it forever might seem trivial, but the closer you get to the miracle, the more anxious you become. That can lead to conflict, and you would be surprised at the demographics. We’ve had to put a stop to a few fist fights, but we only made the decision to call the police once. It was for someone who came in drunk because he was celebrating the upcoming occasion. As far as I know, his name was flagged, and he’ll never get his cure. This was early on, they turned the campground into a dry one after that incident. We do track threats to Mr. Tipton’s life, and there is one in particular that I’m very worried about, but we’ll handle it. We always do.

Microstory 2177: Dark About a Lot

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Wow. Just. Wow. These are some nice offices in the jail administrative section. We’re on the top floor of the building, and have a great view of the skyline, as well as some greenery. I prefer the latter, but some prefer the former, so it’s the best of both worlds. They’re giving us an entire conference room, which is big enough to accommodate our eighteen person team. I have my own office that comes right off of that room, and the facilities department has set aside four other workspaces for us. Each subdepartment will be able to separate themselves from the group, and focus on their own stuff. At the moment, the only thing that’s ready is the conference room, since it’s pretty much already configured the right way. It’s lined with bookshelves, so I’m thinking that it used to be a library, which they eventually started using for meetings, but I don’t know what has happened with all that since. It was reportedly pretty dusty in here. I said that I wanted to physically work on a lot of this myself, but I am not bummed out that they did all the cleaning for me. I’m more of a designer and arranger than a cleaner. I have really bad allergies, and I just don’t care for it. I’m weird that way. I’m truly grateful for everything that everyone has done in preparation for this new project, and I’m excited to get started. I spent all day yesterday slowly moving things around in my office, and the other four shared spaces. We need a few things that the jail doesn’t already have on hand for us, like computers, and other various things. I drew up a list so facilities and IT will be working on procuring new equipment and supplies this week. I still had plenty to do on that front today.

Tomorrow, I’m probably going to work exclusively on building out the staff. Back when I was looking for a job—or rather, when employers were looking for me—I was able to tell you about them, to some vague degree. I didn’t think that it was a problem to say this and that about a hypothetical position that I was probably not going to end up taking, as long as I didn’t specify which company was offering. Even if the name of the company ended up being publicized, it probably would have been all right. Now I’m on the other side of that, preparing to interview individual innocent people for my team. So I won’t be telling you anything about the candidates during this process. I won’t even say anything about the ones that I hire, unless they unambiguously tell me it’s okay, and probably not even then. They have a right to their privacy, and they shouldn’t feel uncomfortable applying because something may come out about them. Even if it’s good, it’s not my place to divulge it, whatever it may be. They have the ability to set up their own social media accounts, and build their own websites, should they choose to. Of course, confidentiality being a thing, there’s a lot more about my new job that I won’t be able to say. The jail is now my client, and while they’re fully aware of who I am, and what I do online, they’ve not given me permission to say absolutely anything and everything about what we’re doing here. So be prepared to be left in the dark about a lot. I’ll keep you up to date as much as I can, but my posts could get shorter if everything that I start to deal with is strictly privileged information. They could, therefore, get boring if all I can talk about is my private life. The work I’m getting ready to do here, I believe, is in the interest of the public good, so I’m all right letting my site suffer in service to that. Anyway, I’m tired, so I better grab some dinner, and call it a night.

Microstory 2024: Louisiana

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It was a couple of years before papa took a lot of time off from work all at once again. He would sometimes take one or two days off, or he would do his volunteer work on the weekends. He would hand food out to people who couldn’t afford it, and he would build houses. He did a few runs to raise money for different charities. He was always working, even when he wasn’t working. In August of 2005, Hurricane Katrina formed in the Gulf of Mexico. When it hit land, it destroyed a bunch of homes, and people even died. The news called it devastating. None of us was even alive yet, but my papa was. He asked for an emergency vacation, and his boss let him have it. Papa spent an entire Thursday learning new skills with the Auxiliary Support Branch. If you have an older friend or relative who donated blood, they probably did it through ASB. They provide volunteer aid all over the continent, and they were in charge of something called disaster relief after the big hurricane, along with the government. The next day after his new training in Chicago, they called to tell him that they needed him to fly to Louisiana on Saturday. So without much warning, he did that, and was sent to a shelter for people who had just lost their homes. Because of his experience as an engineer, he was put in charge of Facilities. It wasn’t an official job, they just needed someone, and there was so much chaos, volunteers just had to do whatever they could to help. He made sure that each resident had a cot to sleep on and blankets, and that there was enough kitchen stuff to feed everybody, and stuff like that. He spent so much time there that he had to take time off, even though this was time off. We’ll talk about that on the next slide.