I t’s been so long since I started writing this story that it’s actually hard to remember when I started, though it must be seven or so years ago. You might be wondering why I even started this task. The impetus was a combination of Aisling asking about my early years in Ireland and Dermot seeking to understand what influenced my business life. Aisling facilitated the effort by gifting me a subscription to StoryWorth, which is the software that helps to discipline the scribbles and ultimately enables the writing to be turned into book form. The writing was interrupted because, for some reason, I switched to investigating and documenting in a book, the origins of the O’Connor family in Ireland. That was actually a satisfying endeavor because of what I learned, not just about the family, but also about the history of Ireland.
Unlike the O’Connor Family documentation, which I thought would be of interest to kids and siblings and grandkids and the USA relatives, this effort is probably of interest to a much more limited audience—siblings, and my kids and grandkids. I can’t imagine it holding much interest for anyone else.
As it unfolded, the story is a bit of a mishmash. It’s neither an autobiography, which probably would have needed “warts and all” telling, meaning recounting the sad bits and the bad bits and the misfortunes. Nor is it a memoir, lacking, as it does, any descriptions of interactions with others. It’s certainly not an “Apologia pro vita sua”, in the words of Cardinal Newman, the first Rector of UCD, my alma mater, though no doubt there should be apologies for many events in my lifetime. But it does address my early years, as Aisling asked, and fairly extensively documents my career progression as Dermot suggested. In meeting those objectives the story, for better or worse, unfortunately appears very self-centered.
As I look back over a career of 40-plus years and a life approaching eighty years, there is no doubt in my mind that I was often lucky. I got off to a very fortunate start in life, born and reared in a Western democracy to very good parents of whom my mother was an inspirational guiding light. Of course, this brings to mind Napoleon’s dictum: “Don’t give me a good general, give me a lucky one.” I was lucky to meet Bernard Gillespie while doing my master’s and then, as a result, being recruited by Mobil Libya. And then when Libya collapsed, I was lucky not to take the job offer from Mobil Deutschland. And, of course, I was lucky to stand in for Peter Bijur at the gala dinner in Manhattan for the Saudi king, where I was seated at the same table as John Hess. There were other similar instances, it seems to me, throughout my career.
The strange thing, though, is that I would say I was never ambitious. I just felt that I should do any job to the best of my ability. There were a number of occasions when that was a hard ask because I was probably promoted beyond my capability at the time, and was forced to quickly grow into increasingly demanding roles. It was only in retrospect that I realized that Mobil had me marked out for an ultimately very senior position, which accounted for my frequent promotions. At the time, I was too busy trying to keep my head above water to figure out what the frequent job changes meant.
The consequences of the fast track whirlwind, however, were the omission of what might be called a normal family life. I didn’t attend Little League sports with my kids. We had a minimal social life, which was very hard on Liz, and it was even difficult to schedule holidays. My life was all about the job. Ultimately, this accumulation of neglect in my home life must have contributed to the agonizing breakdown of my marriage. This I regret above all.
At the end of the day, and this is certainly near the twilight of my own, I am so fortunate and thankful for the relationships I have with my family, kids, grandkids, and above all, Liz. I treasure these connections. I enjoy the interactions I have with my siblings, whether in person or electronically. And although I have no real friends from the business world, I am thankful that I still have friends from the school days and from my sailing adventures.
I have weathered a lot of storms in my time, which I have chosen to omit from the story, and am hopefully in a safe haven.
However, I also know from experience that you can never tell just what’s waiting for you around the corner.
