Just as she was turning into the airport her cell phone rang. She answered the phone as she maneuvered her car into the parking lot and she began searching for that ever-elusive parking space.
“Hi, Jill! Congratulations on a wonderful event!” It was her boss, Jim Duffy, the Director of Development for Charity Sisters. “I just want to let you know how much I appreciated all your work to get that event ready. It went very well, I thought, and I know you’ve been really successful financially. I hope you’re feeling good about it.”
“Oh, yes,” Jill said as she backed the car into its newfound spot. “I thought everything went well last night and now I’m at the airport ready to take my well-deserved rest.”
“Well, before you do that, I have a question for you,” said Jim. Can you tell me where I can find all the names and addresses and other contact information of the people who were there last night?”
“Well, no, not right off hand,” said Jill. “That information was gathered from peoples’ registrations before the auction. I think Harriet Morris has all that information at her home. You know she was the volunteer who handled the registrations, and I think she’s just left town with her husband on their annual trip to Vegas.”
“Well, when will all that information be available for me?” asked Jim.
“Well, typically we don’t enter that data into the donor database. We know who gave to the auction, but not who purchased tickets and we don’t check that against the people who finally come to the event. You know, we’ve never done that before, why are you asking for it now, may I ask?” She was just pulling her suitcases out of the trunk and was feeling pretty irked at Jim for pulling this stunt on her now.
“Well,” said Jim, “Many of the people who were there last night are people we’ve taken a lot of time to cultivate and bring close to us through this event and we ought not let them go without some solid follow-up, do you think?” And that neatly put the “bee” back on Jill.
“Well, I see what you mean. But I don’t think we have that information, at least it wouldn’t be complete. Can I get that for you when I return to the office, or is it something my secretary Marsha could get for you?”
‘I was hoping to have those names today to start calling them. Who would have even a partial list of attendees, Jill?”
“Marsha would have something, at least she could comb the files to see what we have, and maybe that will get you started.” Jill was breathing heavily by this time. She didn’t know whether it was from anger or from toting her suitcase into the airport terminal, and she didn’t really care at that point.
“I’ll check with her, Jill. But before you go, and I know you’re in a hurry to get away to your well-deserved vacation. I want you to hear me very clearly. From this point forward in your relationship with Charity Sisters, your responsibility in special events is going to include making sure that people who come to all our events are registered, and that the data is entered into the database, and that I have a list on my desk the morning after each event with the names of all the attendees on it. And one thing more, Jill. You’re going to be joining me after each event in calling up those who attend and talking with them about their enthusiasm and about getting closer to Charity Sisters. Am I being clear about this?”
Jill had stopped in her tracks in the middle of Concourse C, just about to turn into the gate area. “Are you serious, Bill?” and then thinking it through, “Well, yes, I guess you are. I can tell by your tone of voice that your serious. Could we talk about this when I get back?”
“Yes, we can talk about it. But this is something that is going to change at Charity Sisters. We cannot afford to let these people go without some serious cultivation efforts to bring them aboard as good and perhaps even significant donors. And I believe this is the way to do it. I want you to work with me as a team to get this work done. And we need to do it right after an event, so taking vacation time to rest up after an event will not be a future part of our special event process, I want to be clear about that.”
“OK, we’ll talk when I get back. I’ve gotta go now, they’re calling for my flight. I’ll be in your office first thing Monday the 20th, OK?”
“Yes, we’ll see you then,” said Bill. “Have a good week on vacation,” and he hung up.
As she checked in for her flight, Jill was pale, trembling from the exertion of struggling with the suitcase over all that distance from the parking lot, and with anger and chagrin at this new stunt Bill had pulled on her. She was, indeed, fairly steamed. The additional problem was that she knew in the back of her mind that Bill was not only right, but that she was going to have to share new responsibilities, and that made her afraid. It was only her trust in Bill’s judgment and her belief that he wouldn’t hang her out to dry and demand more than she could produce that kept her from breaking down into tears.
After she had settled into her seat and the plane had reached cruising altitude, Jill reflected that after all she had been the one who had built up the events to the point where they were attracting the kinds of people who could make really significant gifts. Maybe Bill’s idea wasn’t so bad after all. But she sure hated to give up those post-event escapes into the wild to calm her tattered soul. She would have to work a bit on that and see what kind of compromise Bill could be wrestled into. And with that she settled into the ham sandwich she had brought from home. It was disgusting, she thought, that airlines no longer served any food on their flights.
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