The Leadership Lessons and Legacy of SSgt Maurice Woods
“I was a failure … I had failed my team ... and failed myself … but mostly I had failed Maurice.”
It was the mid-1990s and I was recently given my very first supervisory job in a hospital in southern Mississippi. It’s hard to imagine that I was in my late 30s and had never been expected to lead in an important role before this. Even though I had been a manager in my teens in fast food, that was not leadership per se, it was mostly keeping my friends (coworkers) happy and making sure the budget was “happy” and the customers were happy to be there. Great lessons for a teen, but this was going to be different. This was going to be my moment. I was now a mid-career Major in the Air Force Medical Service and had everything going for me. I was engaged, confident, and prepared. I just knew that my intelligence, personality, and tenacity would be able to overcome anything that got in my way. We were a tight team that understood “my” vision, and everyone seemed to follow excitedly.
Knowing the need for talent, I was always looking for bright young experts, people who not only knew the job, but could follow my lead, blend with the team, and represent our image/reputation throughout the hospital. Creating an image of confident, bright, engaged, sharp team members was an important attribute, right? … after all, they were all a representation of me and my agenda.
As I reviewed my team, I was quite happy, I had recruited talent from across the hospital, sometimes to the frustration of other supervisors. I didn’t care, it was all about my team “winning” … win every time, win with funding, win with staffing, win with offices, win with policy. If you always win, you always get promoted. That is the way the military system works … you have to stand out among your peers. We were the hand-selected team to reset the strategic direction of the medical center. And I was in charge of building that team and driving results. However, I was missing that one important person in patient administration.
I had heard about Maurice from team members, they said he was sharp, bright, and had a reputation that would “fit” well with the team. That was all I needed to hear, I decided to drop by his work area and meet him for myself. He certainly matched the hype, SSgt Maurice Woods was a sharp, fit, and kind young African American man who just oozed confidence and humility at the same time. He was naturally quiet. The opposite of me. He was knowledgeable, ambitious, and looked perfect in uniform. He was the “poster child” for Air Force recruiting! I asked him if he wanted to join our team … he jumped at the chance; as our reputation was known in the building. After a short negotiation with his supervisor, it was agreed that he would move to our office upstairs within the month. After all, I was getting anything I asked for at that time.
I moved SSgt Woods to the office two doors down from me. He was the “rock star” we expected. He was engaged with the team, working all kinds of hours to deliver his part of our projects. I hardly had to talk to him at all … he just seemed to know what was needed without much direction. Life is good in our office. Things could not be better.
Then on Saturday morning at 5 am I got an emergency call from the hospital commander, Brigadier General Pedro Rivera, my boss, my friend, and my mentor. He said, “Don, Maurice took his life last night”. You need to know. The call ended.
The rest of the weekend was a blur. I felt guilt, frustration, confusion, and anger with myself and Maurice. How could he have done this now? Why now? Why did he do this to us? We were on the path to success and recognition as a “superstar” team assembled to excel … to make a difference … and he was offered a special place on that team. I didn’t understand.
As is typical when something like this happens to a group in the Air Force, the Mental Health Team meets with everyone in a large room to talk about what happened and how it has impacted them. These are called Critical Incident Stress Management sessions, and they are very helpful in coping with the pain, emotions, and confusion of something like this. Our entire team was gathered in a private room with the professionals facilitating discussion, feelings, memories, and thoughts. Many were trying to understand why Maurice would do something like this. The emotions were very raw, and the tension was high. When the room went silent for a very uncomfortable amount of time, my Administrative Assistant raised her hand to speak. I knew that she and Maurice were friends and that this was really hard for her to accept. She stood up, took a deep breath, and pointed to me. She said, “he killed him, he worked him to death”. At that moment, my world went dark. Everything I thought I understood about myself and my team was destroyed. I was not the leader I thought I was .. . Somebody thought I caused this! Did I? My gut wrenched .. my confidence was shaken, … I just wanted to leave. I silently sat through the rest of the session without looking at anyone. When the session was over, I was hoping someone would step up and tell me how wrong she was. Nobody did. I felt completely alone. I was a failure … I had failed my team … and failed myself … but mostly I had failed Maurice.
The following week was mostly me avoiding people and doing just enough work to keep things going. Then an imagined fear became reality. About 7 days later, Brigadier General Rivera called me to his office to talk about Maurice and what happened. As I walked down the hallway it seemed that the walls were closer than in the past and the ceiling was much lower. The lights seemed dimmer and it was quieter. It was like I was all alone again, just as I felt in the session a week prior. I had gone from “leader” to a failure in moments and I was about to learn what accountability was really about. As I entered the outer office for my appointment. I was directed to wait until he was ready to meet with me. Those moments in the “chair” are unforgettable, you are anxious, scared, nervous, humbled, and embarrassed. Everyone in the “C Suite” knows why I am here … and they look at me as if this is the last time they will see me. They don’t speak and I don’t speak, I just wait in silence. An eternity later, he walked out and asked me to join him in the office. I walked in and sat across his desk to get my “lesson” and learn what my future may be like … if I had one at all. I have never been in a position like this … had my ambition really caused someone’s death?
It was then that my first lesson happened. Instead of sitting across from him, he asked that I sit in a chair next to him behind his desk. He wanted to remove that barrier and talk to me directly. This was very unusual and not expected. I felt a moment of relief as I quietly moved to sit next to him. He then asked how I was doing. Did I need anything before we spoke? I said, no thank you and just remained silent. He then made a statement that I still remember as if it was yesterday. In his slight accent, he looked at me and said, “Don, you did not kill Maurice. He was going to kill himself someday no matter what you did or did not do. However, I want you to know that you could have done more. You should have been available.” I asked what he meant by that, and was given my next lesson. “Don, his office was two doors down from yours, … had you ever just talked to him about his life? Did you know about him as a person? If you had, he may have been willing to share his problems as he gained trust in you. Instead, you were driven to results. In the future, you need to know those that work with you. Know their aspirations, their fears, their challenges, and their hopes. In time they may even share their problems. That is real leadership. Don, you have been given a lesson here. Don’t forget that lesson or Maurice”.
He went on to tell me that Maurice had left a note about all the troubles in his life. He stayed long hours because he was only proud of himself in uniform at work. He loved working in our office. He also shared that Maurice had attempted once before, due to his traumatic childhood in Los Angeles. To make this point, he took his life on the anniversary of his brother’s murder. And then to top it off, he had a very challenging, complicated marriage that was threatening his military career.
I sat there taking in all this new information. Strangely I did not feel the relief I was expecting. I had hoped that something would lift the guilt and allow me to begin to restore the confidence that I was known for. This was not what I expected … I was not at fault, but I could have done better. I should have done better. That was one of the greatest leadership lessons of my life.
I share this story to first share that Maurice did leave a legacy within me. His tragedy taught me through the wisdom of Brigadier General Rivera, that leadership is so much more than being the boss, it is about seeing them and being available to their needs. To know them, support them, so serve them, and create a culture where they feel safe, trusted, secure, and have a sense of belonging. From that moment forward, I was given incredible leadership opportunities. No matter where I served, or the level I served, I knew everyone on my team, I knew their hopes and their needs … I knew because I was available to them. I would know their “normal” so that I could see when they were “not normal”. I engaged with fun, honesty, and transparency. I set goals, standards, and expectations .. and they delivered … not for me, but for themselves.
So, as you reflect on your team, ask yourself if you are “available” to them. If not, try to find a way to continue the legacy and lessons of SSgt Maurice Woods, Patient Administration, Keesler AFB Medical Center, Mississippi.
PS: The Administrative Assistant who made the statement about my guilt stayed on the team, we never spoke about the comment again, and she still supported me for several months. She even asked me for a reference when she was considered for a promotion a year or so later. I was glad to support her. As for Brigadier General Rivera, he remained a great mentor of mine and many others. His legacy is still strong among many who served under his leadership. He lost his heroic battle with pancreatic cancer a few months ago. The world is less a great man today.
Don Taylor is the Director of the Alliance for Physician Leadership and Professor of Practice at the Naveen Jindal School of Management, UT Dallas
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