I don’t really like the term “work friends.” It makes it sound like friends from work are somehow less than or not as important as “real friends.” I don’t buy that. I don’t have any hard facts to back this up, but I suspect that we spend more time with “work friends” than we do with “real friends.” And as a result, those “work friends” end up becoming “real friends.”
That’s what happened with two people I worked with more than 30 years ago. Eddie Pierce—who lovingly goes by “Fast Eddie”—was one of the first people I met when I began working in West Palm Beach. From the minute I met him, I knew Eddie was a character. It wasn’t just his strong Boston accent that gave me that idea. It was his jokes, often irreverent and inappropriate (but always funny). It was his work ethic, always the first one at the office and the last one to leave. And it was his commitment to his job. To be around him for any time, it was obvious that he cared deeply that we were all doing the right thing and taking care of our customers.
I met Eddie under difficult circumstances. I had been brought in to shake things up in our West Palm office. I had been working for State Farm Insurance for about 6 years at that point, and it was my understanding that we were supposed to be spending our insured’s money wisely. That meant paying everything we owe, but nothing more. Eddie felt the same way, and he soon became my right hand.
It was suspected that several of our employees had been taking kickbacks from area body shops. An investigation was completed and sure enough, we found evidence that some people were accepting “gifts” they weren’t supposed to be getting; others were doing what the body shop told them to do, not what we told them to do; and at least one person was using a company car to deliver pizzas at night. It was a mess. We ended up firing a few people, re-training some others, and hiring some new employees. Most of the hard work of all of that chaos fell on Eddie’s shoulders. Our trial by fire ended up bonding us together as co-workers and friends.
Over the years, Eddie and I have stayed in touch, and we made a habit of getting together at least once a year, even after I moved to Wisconsin. But in recent years, our visits have been less frequent. We would talk once in a while, but it wasn’t the same as getting together face-to-face. So, I made my way to West Palm, and Eddie and I got together for a long overdue lunch.
It’s funny how friends can fall right back into well worn patterns, even after long absences. That’s how it always is with Eddie and me. Eddie always has plenty of stories to tell (he’s a great storyteller), and I’m only too eager to listen.
I drove down after my visits in Melbourne the previous day to Twin Peaks, a restaurant in West Palm neither of us had been to previously. The best way I can describe it is an upscale Hooters with a mountain theme. Eddie was in his environment. He loves to tell jokes and entertain, and that’s exactly what he did. Our waitress, Kaylee, thought he was hilarious and adorable, which only made Eddie tell more stories.
Eddie has lived an extraordinary life. He moved to West Palm Beach in 1971, leaving the cold of Boston behind. Eddie was a master body man and fell in with exotic car builders in the area. For years, he worked hard all day and partied hard all night. He was young, and he was enjoying his new home, as well as the money he was making. His life became filled with expensive cars, fast boats, and gorgeous women. When I say “gorgeous women,” I’m not exaggerating. Eddie has dated some of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.
But as happens so often, those late, crazy nights took their toll, and it became obvious to everyone around Eddie that he had a serious drinking problem. He eventually lost his wife and was on the verge of losing his job. That’s when Ron Mislowsky stepped in.
Ron was in charge of our office in West Palm Beach. He saw something in Eddie that others wanted to dismiss. Ron made arrangements for Eddie to enter an alcohol rehab program, and stood by him as he went through his recovery.
I have known a few alcoholics in my life, some who had stopped drinking and others who had not. I’ve never known anyone who went through alcohol treatment and came out the other side stronger or better than Eddie. He not only pulled his life together, but in the next few decades, he built a successful career and has helped others make the same journey to recovery that he made. I know Eddie feels he owes it all to Ron, and I can’t argue that Ron was a tremendous friend to Eddie when he desperately needed one, but the majority of the credit goes to Eddie himself. He did the hard work, he showed the dedication to sobriety, and he paid it forward to his friends and colleagues.
Recently, Eddie had surgery to remove some pretty serious skin cancer from his face. As he said, when the doctor was done with him, his nose “looked like hamburger.” But he’s made a full recovery and the surgery left only small, faint scars. At 78 years old, Eddie still surrounds himself with expensive cars and beautiful women, but his nights aren’t as late as they used to be.
Eddie and I ended our long lunch, and I made my way to Miami Lakes, where I planned to stay for the night. The reason for my visit to the Miami area was to see another “work friend,”: Isis Alsina.
Isis and I became friends in West Palm Beach right around the same time I met Eddie in 1992. We hit it off right away. We both had an irreverent sense of humor, and we both took our jobs seriously, but not ourselves. Some of my fondest memories of my time in West Palm are of Isis, Wayne Wallace (another long-time friend), and me sitting in my office talking. Those were good days.
While in Miami Lakes, I met Isis at El Novillo, a Nicaraguan restaurant in a beautiful, upscale area. Isis got the Churrasco and I got a trio of appetizers: country sausage, sauteed mushrooms, and pork baby ribs. Except for the ribs, the food was excellent (the ribs were way too dry). Isis shared a bit of her churrasco with me, and it was delicious; tender and tasty.
It was good to catch up with Isis. She retired a few years ago and I’m always intrigued with how she is spending her life. She’s working a part-time job that allows her to hang out with her friends, she’s traveling a bit, and she’s enjoying life. I love to see good things happen to good people.
Like Eddie, Isis has lived an interesting life. She was born in Cuba, moved to Mexico, then Miami, then New York, then Thailand, where she graduated from high school. She returned to Miami to go to college, and has lived mostly in South Florida ever since.
One interesting thing about Isis is that she has a beautiful singing voice and once recorded an album of Latin jazz called “New Directions.” She recorded with the great Arturo Sandoval, and even played the Buenos Aires Jazz Festival several years ago.
Despite her long tenure in Miami, she hates the heat, loves colonial architecture, and claims she’d like to move north someday. I’m interested to see if she actually ever makes the move.
As we always do, Isis and I compared notes on our love lives. Sadly for both of us, there was nothing to report. But even that sad fact gave us something to laugh about.
Our night came to a close with hugs and a promise to get together again soon. Then I was off to my hotel to prepare for my two-day Florida Keys adventure. More on that in my next dispatch.
