Honoring John Nathan Sturdivant on an occasion such as this can only be a bittersweet moment. Bitter -- because he is gone, and we are diminished by his passing. I miss him terribly, as I know many of you do. Sweet -- because no one deserves to be remembered -- and honored -- more than John. And sweet also because -- John would have enjoyed this honor and attention, which is living proof that the indelible impression that John created still survives. I was fortunate to have John in my life for more than a decade. He was my mentor, professional colleague and dear friend. I can't say we were ever peers -- John didn't have any peers. He was an original, and towered head and shoulders above most of us. When I worked for AFGE, my fondest memory is that John always considered the AFGE staff to be his family. He was a mentor to many. He gave and gave of himself. He challenged us. He teased us. He praised us. He nagged us. He let us share in his accomplishments. He kept us in line by giving us "the look." He rewarded us -- often -- with that famous megawatt smile. He did everything he could to bring out the best in each of us. I would not be who and where I am today without John. At OPM, I worked with John in many ways -- including as a fellow member of the National Partnership Council, where he was a founding member. He was truly a formative force in the creation and evolution of the National Partnership Council, and it is highly appropriate that the annual honors bestowed on the federal government's model partnership efforts now bear John's name. President Bill Clinton and Vice President Al Gore put John Sturdivant on that panel because -- frankly -- when he set his mind on something, he usually got it. At his funeral, even the Vice President shared his memories about how he couldn't say no to John. John understood true partnership in a way that many of the rest of us who serve on the National Partnership Council still grapple with. He understood that Partnership is a shared process to seek an end, not a pre-ordained outcome belonging to any single faction. There are a couple of things that stand out for me when I think of John now. The single thing I remember most about him was his incredible vision. His way of knowing just where we should be headed. His ability to remain fixed on the goal, through all the confusion and temporary turns and twists of fortune. He always kept his eyes on the federal workers across this nation who looked to him for leadership, inspiration and progress. John always saw the big picture. While we around him were scrambling to deal with the short-term deadlines and problems, he knew where we should be next year, five years from now, 15 years from now. It was an amazing talent. We're all friends here, so we can talk. John was, shall we say, aware of his appearance? The cut of his suits had to be perfect; his shoes had to be shined; there could not be a hair out of place. I'm glad he was still with us, early last year, when the Washington Post printed a story about him and all his achievements. That article appeared shortly after John was discovered to be suffering from the disease that took him from us. The article listed his achievements and contributions. But all any one could talk about was his age. Everyone was shocked when his age was revealed. Because -- anyone who met John -- and who didn't know his birth date -- thought he was far younger. I suspect that reaction delighted him He knew he was looking good. Today, we gathered here can still feel John's vision, and his love of life. We still feel him as a moving, living presence. When we who directly worked with John also drop away, I believe his vision and influence will continue to move people in public service. They just won't realize, directly and personally as we do, who set them in motion. His vision was that extraordinary. John, you will be with us in memory for as long as we exist. You will be a part of the institutions you served, led and improved for far longer than that. And in our hearts, you will be eternally energetic, eternally smiling, eternally pushing us on to new heights. Until we finally get to where you want us to go. --end-- |
