From Mike to Chuck

The Package

It was a grey day. Clouds threatened moisture all day but it never came. In walked this lady. She cradled a package under her arm. Strange looking package, but who was I to ask questions. I was just the courier, the mule. She asked me to take the package to Phoenix. Alarm bells started going off in my head. Who was this dame? Could she be trusted? This package could spell trouble with a capital T.

I headed to the airport, what choice did I have. I made it through security, sweat pouring down my brow. Overhead I could hear the words “never carry a stranger’s item”. My eyes darted around as I felt the walls closing in. I handed my ticket to the agent, my hand visibly shaking. I sank down into my seat. It just didn’t make any sense, why me? Why now? By the time we reached Phoenix, I wasn’t any closer to the answer. I felt like I was chasing rainbows.

The next morning, my mind was still reeling. The concierge eyed me suspiciously as I left the hotel, address in hand. It was a hot day, hotter than flapjacks on a griddle. Thirty minutes later I reached the address. The home was just one of thousands just like it in America suburbia. But what sinister person lurked behind the door? With trepidation, I willed my legs forward…knocked on the door…and waited. The door creaked open and I walked to the table in front of me. Warily, I looked about. No immediate threats. Again, I tried to wrap my mind around this errand. Could I really trust that dame, I mean, how well do you know your sister in law after 21 years. Sure, she claimed the package was for her missionary son but could I be sure this wasn’t some drug run I was on. Ok, so I went to his farewell and could confirm he was on a mission but still, his mother could have put anything in that package. When the woman told me how much it would be to have this package personally driven and delivered to my nephew, I called my brother. He went ballistic when he heard it was $64 just to send this care package. “Should have just used Amazon” he said. See, I knew there was a reason to be scared.

This delivery, to my Spanish speaking, Mexican mission serving nephew, was my first service in Chuck’s honor. You will understand how this relates to Chuck shortly, but first, I would like to throw out a question to all of you. What is Charles Gate’s job? Jeopardy music playing….

For those of you who answered Transponster, you are incorrect.

Chuck is a Communications and Government Relations professional.

As most of you know, communication is definitely not in my wheelhouse. I decided to step up my communications game a notch or two as my service. Starting with the story above, I facilitated communication between a mother and her son. Boo ya!

Additionally, I wrote to 3 missionaries this month. So that makes a total of 3 missionary letters over the last 20 years. As I mentioned, I am not the best communicator.

Also, I went to a townhall meeting to fight a potentially wrong-headed development. I worked my political chops ala Chuck Gates and stood up and communicated my opinion.

Finally, I worked on communicating with my wife. I wrote a note of appreciation to her each of the days of December.

This service for Chuck helped me step out of my comfort zone. He does this much better than I do. I admire him for his passion and for his ability to express that passion in a public setting. I know that his ability to communicate has helped the City of Richmond. I have seen him communicate with his children, getting down to their level. I hope to be a little bit better by communicating a little more often.