I hugged the boss and got away with it

There was nothing eventful about my first day at work, which is exactly what I needed. Sherry, my supervisor, had all kinds of funny and interesting things to catch me up on from the past week. Nino dropped by for a chat. The Midday crew had things for me to do. Suzanna 'saved' a project for me, a charity page for a promo later this month. Anita came by and smiled, welcoming me back to work. John Misner, the station GM, continues to show a warmth and personal concern that blows me away; he came by to shake my hand and we couldn't decide if we were going to keep it formal or do the fist/knuckles thing. It was funny and fitting. We laughed about it.

It was not at all awkward, which is how I felt when I greeted my co-workers at the memorial.

I went on "auto-hug" mode at the memorial. I had to, because hugging is alien to me. I have a 12-inch personal space field that hugging violates. But I go to church with huggers, and Jessica's family is just replete with huggers, so there I was at the end of service hugging everyone like a long-haired hippie at the end of a Grateful Dead concert.

I could see John, Anita, Emily from HR, and Bert Sass out of the corner of my eye, waiting for the people to clear around me to express their condolences. That was enough clout gathered together to have made many important decisions for our entire operation right there in church. They were being extremely respectful and courteous ... dignified.

I knew I needed to work my way over there so they could get back to work, but people kept coming at me like peacenik raptors, devouring me in their arms. Trying to be graceful, I returned their embrace for short and long periods.

By the time I made my way over to the group I was locked into a hugging groove. Couldn't shake it.

I'm sure John Misner has hugged many people in his life. His parents. His wife. His children. Close family members. Employees? Not really part of the job description, especially not with the HR director there. When he stuck out his hand for a formal hand shake and I threw my arms open like an old Army buddy, time stood still for an eternity as my brain tried to negotiate how to navigate out of my artless gesture. I certainly didn't walk over intending to hug this crew because these are professional people, but there I was in that no-man's zone.

We ended up in that half-handshake/half-hug zone that, in hindsight, somehow seemed appropriate. No injuries were reported after the incident. I wasn't reassigned to the signal tower to check for lightning.

I was honored that he and the rest were merely there. Memorials are intensely personal events, and I think it took a good bit of courage on their part going there knowing how foreign the environment would be and not knowing what emotional state I would be in.

These are the people I work for. I'm humbled.

Anita, my boss, was also there and was as kind and generous as always, as were Emily, Bert, Sherry, and her husband, Joe. Mark Casey, the news director, called me early last week to check in and to let me know they were ready to step in and help with anything I needed. It was jarring, because I know these people are busier and more stressed out than air-traffic controllers. I couldn't have anticipated that phone call or the response from my co-workers and superiors.

I work in a business that sort of caters to egomaniacs, to self-aggrandizers, to the self-absorbed, but somehow I found the one station full of real, genuine people. I'm often asked how I like my job, and when I consider who I work with, the answer is always that I couldn't imagine a better group of people with whom I could sling the mud -- or whatever it is we do these days.