Angel de la Puente

     It was December 29, 2018, four months ago. We were driving from Chicago to Los Angeles to visit our daughter and her family. It was dark and we were somewhere in Nebraska. Judy was driving and I was on my phone. On Facebook messenger, I had a message from Liz Peniche who I knew from Colgate Mexico. The message was short and sad: “With deep sorrow I inform you that Ángel passed away this morning.”
     I was stunned and saddened. But, I was not surprised. Angel had been in long term care for at least a year. He suffered from Guillain-Barré syndrome. Thank God for WhatsApp which allowed us to keep in touch for that time. He worked very hard at rehab but the progress was very slow. He never ever lost his resolve. He would send me videos of his walking and doing various exercises.  Sadly, in the end, his body gave out.
     I video texted him the Wednesday before he passed, he was in the hospital confined to bed. He said he could talk then but asked that I call him back, “I have something I want to talk to you about.” I got involved with preparations for our drive to California and

Me, Angel, Boris Magidenko, and
Javier Arostegui at Tavern on the Green
NYC

did not call him back. Sadly, that was the last I spoke with Angel. I imagine he was going to say things did not look good for him... but I am not sure.
     Angel de la Puente was one of my best friends in Colgate. We hired him from the outside to be the Director of Logistics and Customer Service in our Mexican subsidiary in the late 1990s. He was the first outside hire in such a role. Before Colgate, he had worked at Scott Paper Co. and experienced the bizarre leadership of Chainsaw Al Dunlap there. Angel actually was featured on the cover of a logistics trade magazine as one of the new breed of logistics leaders in Latin America. Our corporate director of Logistics and Customer Service, Dave Nelson, circulated the article throughout the company encouraging everyone to hire or breed this kind of logistics executive. Colgate Mexico took Dave’s advice and promptly hired Angel.
      We were not sure what to think. We knew we had to improve our logistics and customer service operations in Latin America and we had to do it quickly. I was the Latin America Division Director of Customer Service and Logistics. My mandate was to take us for so-so to dismal performance levels to equal or surpass our main competitors in the region. From the beginning, I always said that “if I am successful, I will have been unqualified to replace myself.” So, here comes a guy, Angel de la Puente, that at least on paper, was probably more qualified to my job than I was. How was I supposed to deal with and manage this situation?
     My concerns were unwarranted. When we first met, Angel was larger than life. He had great confidence a rich gravelly authoritative voice. He was not afraid to share his opinion or draw a quick conclusion about one of our colleagues. I laid back and got to know Angel and helped him navigate the unique politics that were Colgate in those days. We got to respect each other, acknowledged our different but complimentary management styles, and developed a great team. We truly learned from each other.  He knew the logistics business and everyone in it in Mexico and I was an expert in process development and improvement.  That partnership grew to very strong lifelong friendship. 
     Angel was not everyone’s cup of tea. He was blunt and very defensive of his actions. Folks in our US Subsidiary and at Corporate felt like they always had better answers and better strategies. That was not usually the case and Angel let them know it. We would play good cop bad cop and usually got our point and way of thinking across. He was always ready to do battle. He made me a stronger leader for it. He made me realize that I was better of having strong, aggressive pit bulls reporting to me. I was better at knowing when to pull on the reigns and let them loose than I was at cracking the whip.

Angel sent me this photo from a Colgate Mexico event and
challenged me to provide an equal or better photo.

     I used to always tell Angel, “I am delighted to have you reporting to me, but I don’t think I could ever be a coworker with you and, for sure, I could never report to you.” He just laughed and did not ask why. He knew he could be a real tough boss. If he ever lost confidence in a direct report, even for a moment, he would be very hard on such folks. He valued loyalty and execution. We would always discuss if his tough guy approach was better than my wimpy approach of giving second and third chances in the spirit of continuous improvement.
     One time, in Mexico, we were working on something and at 6 pm he gave instructions to a junior manager/analyst to finish up something and that he expected the answer first thing in the morning. I knew the fellow would have to work two to three hours to get things done. We left for dinner, in spite of my suggestion that we stay and help the fellow crank-out the work. Angel said, “I am testing him.” OK then. An hour later, sitting in the restaurant, who do we see walk in but the very same fellow who should have been back at the office. I looked at Angel and said, “I do believe he flunked the test.” That fellow experienced Angel’s tough love for weeks after that. I do believe that the fellow became a stronger and more reliable team member for it.
     I called Angel once and told I had just watched the well-known movie Amores Perros. I told him that I understood everything in the movie. Angel gruffly, retorted “That is not possible, your Spanish is not that good.” I responded that “No, I really understood everything. The entire dialogue was the same five swear words you use all the time.” After a moment of silence, he retorted, “Fuck you!” This was the exact response I was going seeking. This kind of humor and give and take defined our friendship.
     Another time, I was late leaving for the airport. Angel’s boss, Stuart Burkhead, was making all of his direct reports fill out an NCAA Basketball Tournament Bracket and “invest” some pesos into the competition. Angel said, “You have to fill this out for me, I don’t know anything about this bullshit.” I said “I don’t have time, I am late.” “Just do it!” he said. So, I just did it. I spent all of thirty seconds on the selection, handed it to him, and went out to my waiting car. A few weeks later, Angel called me and said, “We won.” “Won what?” “That basketball contest thing you filled out.” I had actually forgotten we did that. It was literally, the only time I have ever had any success in this regard. Angel was excited, “Stuart keeps asking me how the hell I did it, he keeps saying, ‘you don’t know anything about basketball.’” We never did fess up to Stuart.
     Angel was old school in many ways. He worked hard and he played hard. He was a serious smoker and drinker. He smoked at least a pack of cigarettes a day. He even smoked in his office even though smoking was prohibited throughout all of Colgate. Over the years, we had some epic drinking sessions. Our chosen libation for the most part was good tequila though cognac and Riojas were not out of the question. All drinking was after hours and most were

The last time we hung out together.
Mexico City 2006.

evenings, but some of best times were the few Saturdays we dedicated to drinking, discussion, and cigars. During these times, we talked… a lot. We talked about politics in Mexico, the US, and, of course, in Colgate. We talked about life, dreams, love, and family. We would bust each other’s chops on our managerial weaknesses and bone-headed things we have done. We talked about the history, heritage, and future of both Mexico and Armenia. We talked about our children and grandchildren. He adored his daughter Karla, his grandson Angel, and his girlfriend Olivia. He talked about them often and light up when he did. I miss those times and looked forward to getting to Mexico or him visiting Chicago so we could renew. Alas, that is never to be.
     Back circa 2005, Angel had some serious health issues that required hospitalization. In checking in on him, I used to ask if the doctors had mentioned anything about his smoking and drinking. He said, “Not at all.” I looked at him sideways and he remained stoic. He beat those health concerns and rebounded by embracing a serious exercise regimen. When I complemented him on his progress, he struck the Usain Bolt lightening pose and would repeat the pose anytime I asked about his health after that.
     Angel left Colgate a few years after did. After trying consulting and some contract work, he landed a job that returned him to the paper products industry. It had to be 2016 or 2017, he took a job as Logistics and Customer Service Director for Kimberly-Clark Mexico. When we called and talked about it, I asked him if he was ready to return to the fray of the day-to-day corporate grind after having been out for several years. He assured me, “No problem.” I sensed he was striking the Usain Bolt pose as he was answering.
     It took me four months to write this piece. I wanted to write it earlier. I wanted to write it immediately on his passing.  I thought about Angel and his passing every day.  I thought about what I wanted to write quite a bit, but I could not bring myself to actually write. I have a hard time writing about the passing of a friend my age. Sadly, this will happen more and more.
     Sometimes we choose our friends. Other times ours friends choose us. Certainly, we can marry into friendships. In the case of Angel and I, neither of us sought the friendship. It just happened. It grew gradually through the business we did together. Our friendship was unique in another way. We did not have a circle of mutual friends or relatives. Basically, it was just he and I.
     I will miss him very much but appreciate and treasure the excellent times we did share.

Chidem Inch: The 104th Anniversary of the Genocide

Ara Güler

     This year, per the title, we are celebrating the 104th Anniversary of the Armenian Genocide. There is an annual protest in front of the Turkish Consulate in Chicago on the 24th and a Chicago wide mass and program on Saturday the 27th. I cannot attend the protest but will be present at the mass and program.
     In this 4th year after Centennial Anniversary, I am not sure what I am feeling. We continue pressing for recognition. If we ever get Turkey to commit to recognition, we will no doubt push harder for reparations. I am certain this is why Turkey may never recognize what happened. I think there was some hope before the coup d’etat attempt in 2016. Before, people in Istanbul showed up en masse to support the recognition of the Genocide and honor the memory of Hrant Dink.  The mood was positive and hopeful. After the coup? Erdogan cleaned house and basically punished anyone and everyone in the country that was more liberal and open than he thought the country should be. Whatever hope I had for a new Turkey evaporated with the failed coup. 
     Where is Turkey going? Why do I care? If they aren’t going to admit to anything or try to reconcile to any degree, they could implode as far as I am concerned. Would love to see a free Kurdistan because they should have a country and they might actually welcome Armenians back. They might even give Ararat, Ani, Kars, and Kghi to the Republic of Armenia. OK,this last scenario is probably only a smidge more likely than Turkey recognizing the Genocide. 
     On Easter Sunday, we were delighted to have Zaven Tokatlian over. The Tokatlian-Gavoor connection dates back to the 1960s in Khartoum, Sudan where the Tokatlians lived and where my great-uncle Rouben was the financial officer in the US Embassy. Zaven never comes empty handed. He brought flowers for Judy and my mother-in-law. He brought me the 2017 edtion of Orhan Pamuk’s Istanbul: Memories and the City. This reprint was expanded to include more photos including many from the famed photographer Ara Güler.  

     After our guests left, I sat down and looked at every photo in the book and read two chapters. The photos are amazing, and I love the way Pamuk writes. Yes, I can say or write that I don’t really care what happens in Turkey and the next day I am mesmerized by a book of memories and photos of Istanbul. None of our family actually lived there and I have visited only once. But, 104 years after the genocide here I am, a second-generation Armenian born in the US, still fascinated and drawn to the great Polis. I would visit again in a heartbeat should the opportunity. 
     Many of my generation of Armenian-Americans have faded away from Armenian life and melded into the dominant American culture. For those of us who persist, our Armnenian heritage, culture, and nation are powerful forces in our lives and define a significant part of our lives. We cannot let it go. We dream about the very improbable and definitely impractical repatriation, not to the Republic of Armenia, but the Turkish occupied villages of Western Armenia where my grandparents’ generation were born. 
     I want to say I don’t care what happens in Turkey but it is not true. I am not a citizen. I might have been and that gives me a reason to have interest, if not a stake, in what happens. Most non-Armenians from Turkey that I know cannot relate to this in anyway.  To them I am the foreigner that I most certainly appear to be.
     Çidem Ínç indeed!
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The College Admissions Scandal

Old Main at Wayne State University
Where as far as I know, I got into on my own merits.

     When the news of the college admissions scandal first hit the news last month, I was only a bit surprised and even less shocked. For sure, I was upset about the generally touted “fair and above-board process” of college admissions being swayed by money. Honestly, it has never been fair and above-board. We have had white-privilege, affirmative action, athletic skill trumping GPA and test scores, home state, and, of course, the sway or money and power. Legacy is another huge factor. At premier schools, trying to decipher the admissions criteria has always also been like trying to predict airfare pricing. It is a black box.
     People of wealth and influence have always had an advantage. I always assumed that large and generous donations to a university would make give one’s children an advantage over the general mass of applicants. Power and celebrity status also plays a role. When has the son or daughter of a President of the United States ever go to MiddleofNowhere College, Our Sisters of the Poor University, or Eastern Mediocre State University. They always seem to go to Harvard, Yale, Penn or Stanford.
     The admissions rates at the schools mentioned in the scandal are 5 – 10%. The probabilities of being accepted is low if we assume all applicants are equally qualified and they most certainly aren’t. You have to have an edge, a differentiator, to get into these schools. All the applicants have high GPAs and impressive test scores. Students with lesser scores do get admitted if they have world class athletic skills, virtuoso musical talent, or they can surf in on a tsunami of their parents’ money.
     Frank Bruni had a beautiful Op-Ed in the New York Times on March 12, 2019. The title was “Bribes to Get Into Yale and Stanford? What Else Is New?” Truly, yes, what else is new. Bruni pointed out:

It’s a galling exposé of widespread cheating by families who are already well-to-do and well connected, but it’s not really a surprising one. Anyone who knows anything about the cutthroat competition for precious spots at top-tier schools realizes how ugly and unfair it can be: how many corners are cut, how many schemes are hatched, how big a role money plays, how many advantages privilege can buy. 

The wrinkle here is that the schemes were actually criminal and will apparently be prosecuted, and for once the colleges’ administrators were in the dark about them. But they’re versions of routine favor-trading and favoritism that have long corrupted the admissions process, leeching merit from the equation. 

It may be legal to pledge $2.5 million to Harvard just as your son is applying — which is what Jared Kushner’s father did for him — and illegal to bribe a coach to the tune of hundreds of thousands of dollars, but how much of a difference is there, really? Both elevate money over accomplishment. Both are ways of cutting in line.

     Sure, going to a highly selective school can give one an advantage of the connections and the educational opportunity. But, taking advantage of the educational opportunity can happen anywhere. I have given the same advice to young people who did not get accepted to their dream school and ended up going to their second, third, or even safety school choice. “No matter where you go, knock the cover of the ball. Do your best, work hard, make great lifelong friends, and take advantage of the educational opportunity… especially if you are going into debt for the experience.” I will now add to this charge, “Be so successful that you can grease the skids for your own kids if you were so inclined. But, don’t be so inclined.”