Over 25 years, I’ve worked with hundreds of people on projects all over England. Few have left such a lasting impression as Uncle Barry, with whom I worked on and off for around 8 years during my 20's. A Senior Contracts Manager for a national contractor, he was in his 50's - a very experienced guy bursting with charisma. He was perma-tanned, dyed his hair a rich chestnut, wore dark wrap-around glasses (all year round) and a lot of jewellery. If you’re imagining a second-hand Jaguar-dealer from Essex then I’m describing him correctly. Barry isn't his real name, but I once saw a stranger in a pub nudge his friend and gesture towards my mentor; 'Ha! Look at Uncle Barry the second-hand car dealer over there'. So Barry it is.
Aside from Barry's second-in command, whose job it was to actually run the site (and thereby prevent Barry from getting dirt on his patent leather shoes) he also employed a 'gopher' called Johnny. His responsibilities were:
1. Keeping the site offices, canteen & meeting rooms clean
2. Making tea for Barry
3. Getting Barry's lunch
4. Getting Barry's shopping
5. Doing any other personal chore that Barry could think of
When you work with someone for a long period, you fall into routines. Mine included arriving at least 30 minutes early for work so I could get a daily 'briefing' from Barry. This actually entailed drinking tea and helping Barry with his crossword before doing any serious work. (Johnny's routine therefore included getting in 15 minutes earlier than me, so he could make tea, pick up Barry's paper and lay out photocopies of the crossword for those attending the morning 'briefing').
Uncle Barry had a name-plate on his desk with removable letters, and it was of course a real hoot to alter the letters and see how long it took him to notice. At the risk of revealing his real, full name my personal favourite anagram was 'Blurred By Gin'.
I entered Barry's office one day and found him reclining in his massive leather executive chair with his feet up on the desk, and slices of cucumber on his eyes. Someone had evidently told him he looked tired, and to try cucumber. Johnny was despatched to the local supermarket to make this happen.
On another occasion I came into his office to find him sitting in front of a mirror, a towel around his shoulders, having his hair cut and blow-dried by a young lady. I saw this on at least three separate occasions, on sites in Ipswich, London and Bath. (I have wondered why more mobile hairdressers don't frequent building sites - I think they're missing some business there.)
By now you'll have the impression that this older guy was being looked-after royally by us youngsters, and this was true. One day when Johnny couldn't be tracked-down, I was summoned to his office and asked to apply a corn-plaster to his foot, as his massive belly prevented him from reaching.
One of Barry's foibles was getting to work earlier than anyone else. In all the years I worked with him I beat him to work just the once - at about 6am. My reward for this was a strange task - "In my car are two buckets. I just need them filled with gravel and placed back in the car". It turned-out that Barry was doing some garden re-modelling at home, and over a period of months had collected 2 buckets of gravel from site every single day – by my reckoning about 4.5 tonnes.
Barry liked to impress clients and their consultants, and loved nothing better than entertaining them at lavish venues (on expenses, naturally). I was invited along to one particular soiree at an extremely lovely and expensive hotel outside Bath. As our fleet of taxis arrived Barry set about shaking hands, complimenting everyone loudly on how well turned-out they were and generally establishing himself as the perfect host and alpha-male. When we approached the main entrance to this regal building, the top-hatted commissionaire bowed and said (loudly enough for everyone to hear)
'Uncle Barry! How wonderful to see you again!’
His only previous visit had of course been an hour earlier, when he had paid the commissionaire to greet him like he was regular and well-liked customer. He admitted this to me a few years later.
The handful of stories above have not mentioned the long hours, the professionalism and the effort put in by a man whose colourful personality did much to hide these more mundane features. This was a man from an earlier generation, brought up to work hard and think on his feet. Natural charisma allowed him to dominate situations and to motivate and influence people better than anyone I have known since. People would bend over backwards to impress this man and earn his praise. I learned a huge amount from Uncle Barry about motivating and influencing people and groups, making them feel involved and connected to the project and its outcome.
Those with whom I worked between 1991 and 1998 will recognise Uncle Barry instantly, and I'm pleased to inform you that I saw him at Christmas 2010. He is alive and well and enjoying his retirement - and aged 76 has not changed one single bit.
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