December 2000 Newsletter

From all of us at Credit Bureau, Inc.

We wish to thank all of our clients and friends for their continued patronage. In lieu of sending Christmas cards, we have made a contribution to several local charitable organizations. We thought you would approve since it is the giving season!! We also wanted to give you a special greeting from our staff - because we understand that relationships are built with people, not corporations.

Tom Oldani Promoted to General Manager

Tom Oldani was promoted to General Manager of Collection Operations on October 1, 2000.

Tom started with the Credit Bureau in 1988 as a collector in Ann Arbor and demonstrated a strong work ethic. With an opening in the Howell Collection Division about three years later, Tom accepted the manager position and ran that office for two years.

With the knowledge and experienced he garnered in his early days, Tom went on to manage Jackson and Adrian Collection Services offices before agreeing to transfer as co-manager of Creditors Account Service in Southfield. There he also handled client sales and support .

1995 brought big changes for our operational strategy. Both Howell and Creditors Account Service consolidated operations into Ann Arbor. Tom played an instrumental role with the transition team, helping to orchestrate the merger of operations and directories.

Since the consolidation, Tom has headed all systems operations, while playing a key role within the sales team and client service area.

Aside from his depth of knowledge and wide range of experience in both collection services and credit reporting areas, he is just a joy to work with. It does not take long to witness his joy of life and of his career with the Credit Bureau.

Tom's activities will not change dramatically from what he is doing now, although he will be more involved in administrative issues in order to continue his already deep well of knowledge.

I consider us all fortunate to have someone of Tom's caliber, class and zaniness to work with daily. Congratulations Tom!

R. J. (Bob) Barden, Jr. President

A Man and a Half

I am not quite sure what made me tell myself to pay close attention to the encounter that was just about to take place. Maybe it was because everyone was bustling about and she was walking so deliberately.

Dressed in all beige on a sunny December day, a woman strolled up to the red kettle and dropped some money in. She looked up and said, "My husband told me to never walk by without putting something in. It was them," as she motioned up at the Salvation Army sign, "who would help the service man when no one else would help."

Mattie Blackmon was a short, plump lady with the lines of life's experience mapped across her face. She spoke freely in spurts and had a bad memory for last names. The wife of a career service man she was an expert on how the government treated its own. Sharing how her husband and his brother both had cancer from Agent Orange and how the government was closing down many of the veteran's hospitals. Her husband had been in three wars - Vietnam, Korean and World War II - and had told her how the Salvation Army understood the service man and helped them get home when they needed to, or put them up for the night in the "not so good times."

It was me who prompted her to carry on the conversation as a distraction from what had become the monotony of ringing the piercing bell. So, I listened intensely and cut the ringing down to a soft, metronomic tinkle. "Which branch did he serve with?" I asked. "He was with the Army for 26 years, died at the age of 62 from Agent Orange. Loved his country, got three Purple Hearts and a couple of others, can't remember the names of 'em." I could tell how much she missed him by the way her voice trailed off at the end of each sentence. Not knowing exactly how to respond, I came back with an awkward "Oh, yeah?"

Uncomfortable silence followed as she put her hand up to shield the December sun from her eyes. "Roy," she said softly. "Roy Blackmon," only this time in a louder voice. Not so much like she thought I would know him, but more like she wanted to say his name again out loud. "He was a man and a half," she said authoritatively, as she shook her head for emphasis

She then turned away toward the mall entrance as her head went down, hiding her face from me. "I sure miss him." The tears in her voice forced me take a big gulp to keep down the emotions that were trying to bound out from my gut. With a bit of a crack, I said, "Thanks again" in an uncertain tone. She did not turn as she slipped into Mervyns's.

I was staggered for a minute by the gripping reality that behind the many faces and inside the bodies that innocuously float by us daily, dwell lives of beautiful tragedy. Everyday people, with character so vivid you see them characterized in movies and hear them lamented in a cheerless Tom Waits song.

My wife dropped by about an hour later with some coffee. After bringing each other up to speed on the day's plans, I began to tell her the story with such amazing clarity that I surprised myself. Giving just the right mix of important detail, while adding color from a painter's palette of a dark gray winter landscape. My sister, and fellow bell ringer said, "I just wanted to give her a hug." It was so sad.

As the three of us jabbered on excitedly about the holiday party plans, whether their would be a white Christmas, where to buy dress shirts and how wild my sister's boy Casey was being, I informed my sister Kathy during a pause, "Marti won't be going skiing with us." "Yeah," Marti sighed. "My dad has esophageal cancer."

She had been really quiet the last several days since her father, Carl, had gotten the diagnosis. I was surprised over the seeming optimism in her voice regarding his treatment, but I guess that is why I asked her to be my wife. An admirable quality she has; never down too deep, for very long.

As our shift was drawing to a chilly close, I caught sight of Mattie again, encased in bags on her way out of the mall. She strolled up, put her bags down and then opened her arms. We traded hugs and silent tears, no words were necessary. As she disappeared into the sea of cars, the thought enveloped me that the holiday season may not be joyful for those who have lost their dearest loved ones.

So, at this special and holy time, let us remember our departed loved ones like Mattie did. By saying their names aloud and celebrating the time we had together. This year, both Marti and I will take this advice as her dad passed away shortly after his diagnosis. He too, was a man and a half.

Please, give generously to charity this season. Ring a bell, write a check or just lend an ear to someone who might need it. Also, pay attention to strangers, each has a very special story of their own worth knowing.

R. J. (Bob) Barden, Jr.
President

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Ann Arbor Credit Bureau, Inc. 311 N. Main   Ann Arbor, Michigan   48104 800.710.4821     734.665.6173 info@a2cb.com