A Note from Bill Tindal

Precision Matters

Many of you know that my father was a submariner. Like many Navy families, we had times when my father would be thousands of miles away for months at a time. In the late ‘70’s I was in grade school and my mother would have my two brothers and me sit down and write dad a letter while he was on patrol. Remember this decade had never heard of email. For us, this was pen to paper. Fold it. And, put it in a paper envelope. I never thought about the logistics challenge of getting that folded paper to a submarine on patrol. While I did it, I never enjoyed writing those letters. I had to force myself to capture what I was doing. I would write about school, soccer, and what was happening at Boy Scouts. Like any boy that age, I wanted my father to be proud and favored the good news over the bad. At the end of the day, my brothers and I were doing the best we could. The priority was sending dad something that maintained our connection.

Thankfully, the logistics worked its magic in both directions. And we would occasionally get letters back from dad. I vividly remember a time when I received a letter. As I excitedly tore the seal, I could still smell the faint submarine odor of diesel fuel and lube oil captured by the paper (if you know, you know). What I found inside was a short note from dad attached to the most recent
letter I had sent him, returned to me. In red pen, there were corrections for spelling, grammar, and punctuation. My heart sank.

While at the time I was hurt, I’m now a father and a grandfather. I’m confident that it was a lesson as painful to send as it was to receive. His short note to me was that he loved me and wanted me to know that precision matters in everything we do. While he’s been gone for more than a decade now, I still feel his presence as I read, rewrite, and tweak this note to you. In our work lives we are known not only for what we do but how we do it. The standards we set for ourselves represent who we are. Dad was right, precision matters.