This week's column is an expanded version of an earlier post.
It saddened me to hear of the death last week of Roy Carroll Sr. He was only 64.
I hadn't seen the man I'll forever know as "Mr. Carroll" for decades.
But I spoke of him often with his son, Roy Carroll II, the builder and developer who is renovating the old downtown Wachovia tower as Center Pointe.
Roy Sr. was my first boss, the manager of a supermarket called Bi-Rite, then Bestway, on Phillips Avenue.
He was a good man to work for, firm but friendly, with an easy smile and a calming manner — the kind of boss you wanted to please, not because he would be angry if you didn't, but because he would be disappointed.
I bagged groceries for Mr. Carroll in my first stab at a paying job. I was 16, a rising junior in high school.
He expected us to work hard while we were on the clock. He also respected that even a teenager had a life away from work. It was never a problem getting time off for a school activity.
I learned when and when not to double-bag, to pack meats separately in plastic and always to gently tuck loaves of bread near the top of the sack
.
I learned to size up a customer and determine how much weight he or she could carry. If the patron was an elderly woman, I'd keep the bags extra light, just in case she didn't have help unloading them at home.
I learned the value of a smile and a kind word to customers.
In those days we took the groceries out of the cart, bagged them, placed them back into the cart, rolled them to the customer's car and loaded them.
I made nearly as much in tips on a good Saturday as I made in salary.
All you had to be was nice.
Not that I was always a model employee. Sometimes they'd call when they were shorthanded on my nights off.
Sometimes I'd pretend not to be at home.
That was more years ago than I care to remember but I never forgot Mr. Carroll. And I'm grateful for the lessons he taught us by example.
A lot has changed on Phillips Avenue since those days. The space that once was Bestway has been shuttered and closed, replaced for a while by a teen club that was deemed a nuisance to the neighbors and eventually shut down. It's now empty again, boarded up and draped in graffiti.
It seems so tiny in comparison to today's megamarkets that can swallow you whole in endless aisles of stuff and more stuff and where a human cashier is a luxury, not a given.
I could walk home from Bestway. Now there is no supermarket in that part of town.
As for Mr. Carroll, he eventually left the supermarket to go into construction. The Carroll Cos. were born. He co-owned the company with Roy II until he retired.
The family business is part of his legacy, as is the shiny new tower taking on a second life in downtown Greensboro.
What is most interesting about Mr. Carroll was the relatively brief time I worked with him. I can't say we were ever that close.
I had no idea of who his family was or where they lived. I just knew him as a good and decent man who treated us fairly and respectfully.
That's the way it is sometimes with people whose paths we cross, sometimes only for a short while. They can still make an impression, and teach us lessons we carry with us.
I guess that's why I feel good when a former student remembers me and has something nice to say about what he or she learned while in my class.
And why I need to be more mindful of the impression I might be making on some young person, for better or worse
Mr. Carroll was my first boss in my first job. And decades later, I appreciate him giving me that chance.
I didn't connect him to his son at first, but I should have known right away.
The resemblance was unmistakable. Especially the smile.