One of my former bosses died a couple days ago and it was reported in the New York Times! Remember Leona Helmsley? Back in the 80s, she was all over the papers and nightly news. She was called "The Queen of Mean" and portrayed in a TV movie by Suzanne Pleshette. She served 18 months in federal prison for tax evasion among other money-related crimes. Yes, she apparently treated the people around her with contempt more often than not and was, in general, what my mother would call "a pill." But, to me, Leona was nothing but complimentary. Well, not face-to-face, but in a "Letter of Commendation From The Desk Of LEONA HELMSLEY!"

When I was attending the University of Wisconsin-Madison, I worked at the Sheraton Inn and Conference Center as a front desk clerk and part-time piano player. I played the piano in the dining room four nights a week, seriously testing the digestive process of our guests, and checked people in and out of the place on weekends. The hotel was owned by Leona and her husband Harry. I never saw either of them but they would send a guy out to check up on us now and then. I think his name was Jerry. He had slicked-back hair, smoked little tiny cigarillos and wore expensive suits with lots of shiny accessories like cuff links, watches, ID bracelets. Although you never saw him without a tie on, you could imagine that, under that monogrammed, silk shirt, he was wearing gold chains. Lots of them. He hated coming to Wisconsin from New York and never let anybody at the hotel forget it. Someone had told me that this guy had a summer home in Cape Cod so, trying to be ingratiating, when he walked into the dining room, I started to play the tune Old Cape Cod, segueing into New York, New York. He never even looked up. Considering the way I butchered these numbers, maybe that was a good thing.

Jerry, from the home office, called a property-wide meeting while he was there one time. We all filed into a conference room and heard Jerry tell us how lucky we all were to work for Harry and Leona Helmsley. At one point he said, "You know, the Helmsleys really consider all of their employees, family. You are all like their children." So, I raised my hand and asked if I could borrow the car that night. Nobody laughed. Jerry appeared to make a mental note of my appearance and moved on.

Well, it was within a couple days of that awkward moment, that I got a personal letter from Leona. One of the Sheraton's big corporate customers in those days was a company called Ohio Medical and one of that outfit's executives stayed at our hotel on a very regular basis. His name was Charles DesIslets and he lived Nevada when he wasn't living at the hotel. Charlie was a gregarious guy. He never got miffed standing in line for his room-key. He was always in a good mood. Well, Charlie sent Leona a letter telling her how great the front desk clerk was which led Leona to send me my "Letter Of Commendation From The Desk Of LEONA HELMSLEY!"

I know you're thinking that I'm making way too big a deal out of a simple letter I received over a quarter of century ago...a letter Leona may not have even read before she signed it. (In fact, according to the citation it came from her desk, not her.) But, that letter is the closest thing I've ever gotten to an Employee of the Month award or, prize of any kind, for that matter. Oh, sure, in our old neighborhood I was given the Pooper-Scooper Award for picking up after the dogs, but that was really a shared honor. I mean, where would I have been without the dogs? Just a guy wandering around with a tiny shovel and an empty baggie. So, in honor of my brush with the iconic Leona Helmsley I may frame that letter and display it on my desk in the new KMBC building: proof that, once upon a time, I actually did something well. As Leona used to say in those ads: "I wouldn't settle for less than the best. Why should you?"