Calgary was booming. Collins Barrow, Accountants were desperately short of team leaders. Being of British heritage, the firm decided to recruit from England. They handed the task over to Pat Cashion, their youngest partner. He was in his late twenties, when the average age of a partner was in the forties. How did Pat get there? He came from a high pedigree. His mother was the first woman to graduate from university in Alberta. Pat spoke 5 languages, earned the top prize in all he attempted at university and after. He was the spitting image of Alfred E. Neuman out of Mad Magazine. A spindly-boned, high intellectual at a mere 5’4”, weighing no more than a hundred pounds, with large, round piercing blue eyes and was all business.
Like any top executive, Pat hired the best firm of headhunters in London. As a result of their ad, 137 applied—of which I was one—for 3 openings.
I had recently qualified as a Chartered Accountant at the age of 22. The normal age to qualify was late twenties. I had failed my high school exams but managed to enter the profession under its old rules, which were radically updated a month after I signed my training papers. The new rules—needing a university degree—would have barred me.
My introduction to accountancy was through a family friend. It precluded a resume, or even a job interview.
Having the urge to leave the UK at a time of trouble and strife—country-wide union strikes and recurrent blackouts in mid-winter—the boundless opportunity of Calgary lifted my soul.
In applying for any job, a resume is a must. Never having done one, I blithely wrote a hand-written letter to compete with any doctor’s scribble. Conjuring up the letter in my mind’s eye, I remember two details. Firstly, my sentences rose like the slope of a hill. Not one was a straight line. Secondly, I ended it with “mighty oaks from little acorns grow”. To this day, I cannot fathom why I wrote that.
The interview was short and interspersed with rapid questions from Pat whose intense eyes pierced into me like a living nightmare.
“Have you been to Calgary?’
“Yes. I have an aunt there.” So far so good. 15-love.
“We were looking for experienced team leaders with several years under their belt.”
“I just qualified.” Oops. 15-all.
“What do you think of accounting as a career?”
“I don’t. All you have to do is study the curriculum and regurgitate the answers you’ve learned off pat.” I choked, realizing what I had just said.
Knowing it was all over, I returned his piercing gaze and continued, “Take my mum. She emigrated to England from Africa, didn’t speak English, had no education and was a single mum. She made a fortune in real estate from money she earned working seven days a week.” Pat was still listening.
“No one gave my mother a manual to learn and follow. Through hard knocks, she worked things out.” Again, our eyes were fixed on each other, waiting for the other to blink.
I expected Pat to stand up and show me the door.
“You’ve got the job.”
“What!!!” as though I had been cheated.
“Our clients are all mid-level, young entrepreneurs. They all think like you.”
He helped me out of my chair, as I had lost all movement in my legs.
“Congratulations.”
I often wonder how our destinies hinge on a wisp of perchance. How could someone, having won every academic laurel, even consider a high school dropout? If Pat had been a run-of-the-mill 40+ partner, would he have chosen someone conventional like the other two candidates recruited? Why take such a chance on me?
His choice proved a disaster.
