Franklin Scrooge

Franklin Scrooge sat in his corner office. The New York skyline came alive as night fell. Twinkling lights set against the canvas of dark buildings painted on an orange sunset. It was Christmas Eve evening, and he was working overtime.

His personal assistant, Margaret Smith, sat out in the reception area of his office.  “May I go home now, sir? It’s Christmas Eve.”  Scrooge, channelling the spirit of his Great Great Great Great Uncle, almost said “Christmas, Bah Humbug.”  But he didn’t. That would have been too obvious.  “Go home, Margaret. Enjoy your family.”

Margaret stood up, semi-stunned and hustled out of the room with her purse before her grumpy boss changed his fickle mind.

Scrooge sat drinking a Scotch in his empty office in a nearly empty building.  He had discovered over the past couple of years that the emptier the building, the fatter his checking account.  In fact, he actually got a bonus for laying people off.  No, no, scratch that. Not people. FTEs. Full-time equivalents.  Scrooge smiled. It wasn’t personal; it was just business.

Scrooge looked over at the bookshelf. There sat his first-edition, signed copy of  “A Christmas Carol.” Charles Dickens had been friends with his Great Great Great Great Uncle Ebenezer and had written his life story.  Franklin’s take on the story: Ebenezer was a wuss.  And Bob Cratchit should have been fired for his insubordination.  He did have to give Dickens credit, though — the Ghosts were a nice touch.

He flipped on the 80-inch flat screen and watched the anchor go on about the War on Christmas.  The anchor said that “Happy Holidays” was the biggest thief of Christmas. Scrooge laughed. Laying off 40,000 people was a hell of a lot bigger threat to Christmas than a few words, but this was entertaining.

The Scotch began to work its magic and he felt himself starting to fade off to sleep.  He laughed to himself, “I wonder if the three ghosts will haunt me now?”  The features of the room melted and slid down the wall like a Salvador Dali painting.

He awoke with a start and looked at the clock.  It was midnight.  Franklin Scrooge walked out of his office and down to the bank of elevators.  He headed down to the employee break room three floor down to get some coffee out of the machine.  On his way, he went through a room full of abandoned cubicles.  Crumpled papers, dust and old computer monitors covered the tops of the empty desks.  “In this field, my bonus grows,” Scrooge chuckled.  But there, in one of the cubicles, was an eerie glow.  He walked over to it, mesmerized by the blue-light.  Sitting in the office chair was a translucent middle-aged man wrapped in chains.  He wore glasses and a badge.  And according to that badge, his name was “Al.”    He was wrapped in chains.

Scrooge jumped back.  “Are you the first of three ghosts?” He asked timidly.

Al the ghost looked up at him and said, “No.  I’m the only ghost. If you don’t see the damage you’ve done from my story, you are truly lost.”

“Whatever I did to you, it wasn’t personal.  It was…”

Al finished his sentence. “Business. I know, that’s what my supervisor said after he laid me off after a twenty-year career.  I should have believed him. But I took it personally and after a few months I lost my insurance, my home, my wife, my family and then my life. I just couldn’t take the pain anymore.  Suicide was my final mistake. And it was a big one.”

Franklin Scrooge looked at the man with contempt.  “You made the choice.”

“Yes, I did. And it was a poor one.  And you made choices, too. Which I might add, were equally as poor. Instead of growing the company, looking for new markets, you took the easy route. You cut for the sake of cutting. I’m just to here to remind you that there are consequences of our decisions. There was for me. There is for you, too.  The FTEs you laid off are people. Those people were your company’s greatest assets.  Your company is weaker because of your lack of leadership.  I really miss my wife and daughter.”

Behind Al the ghost, three more spirits appeared.  They were the classic ghosts from Ebenezer’s story.  The Ghost of Christmas Future handed him old copy of “A Christmas Carol.”  The Ghost of Christmas Past looked him in the eye and said, “Read it.” The Ghost of Christmas Present said, “You’ll learn something.”

Al nodded in agreement. “I made a stupid decision.  I can’t correct it.  You have a chance now to help others from suffering my fate.”

Franklin Scrooge woke up with the first rays of dawn creeping into his office. It was Christmas morning and the city seemed unusually quiet.  He looked at the empty Scotch glass and threw the rest of the bottle in the trash.  There would be no goose-buying or Christmas lunches with the Cratchits.  But there was a fundamental change in how he ran the company that day.  He began to believe in the people who worked for him. And within a year, profits were at an all-time high.

On RR 19 in rural Ohio, a woman walked to her mailbox. In it she found an anonymous letter.  It read:

“Your husband Al was the wisest man I knew. Enclosed is a check to cover your daughter’s medical care and her tuition.  God bless and Merry Christmas, A friend.

Thousands of ex-employees received similar letters that Christmas.  Franklin Scrooge had quietly set up a foundation to help those in need.   It was a beautiful second verse to an old book that sat on his desk.  A book called “A Christmas Carol.”