By Richard Mabey Jr.

Author’s Note: Please note that I changed the name of the advertising agency. Also, I changed Thomas McAndrews name.

In January of 1998, I began working in the Editorial Department of Epstein Advertising Agency in Morristown, New Jersey. I was 44 years old and had recently left a long-term job in the Public Relations Department of a large telecommunications corporation. It was a small advertising agency, which was owned and managed by the Epstein family. My boss was an older, Irish gentleman by the name of Thomas McAndrews.

Thomas was a most devoted Catholic. His father had arrived at Ellis Island as a very young boy, with his mom and dad and sisters and brothers. A lot of the Irish heritage was alive and well in the heart of my new boss, Thomas. He often spoke of his dream to see Ireland before, as he put it, “the saints called him Home.”

Thomas McAndrews was a most conscientious, hard-working man. He had an immense gift for detail. Thomas and I were the only people working in the Editorial Department. I don’t think the average person has any idea of how detailed, how stringent, how demanding it is to work in the Editorial Department of an ad agency. The deadlines are incredibly unreal. The pressure can be likened to constantly being in a pressure cooker. And, you just never, ever want to make a mistake.

We had an array of responsibilities, in regard to the various steps involved in creating a print ad layout. One of our main responsibilities was to do a total and complete grammar check on all of the written wording on the prospective ad layout. And then there was the matter of the style of the font and the size of the font. Something that prior to working for the ad agency, I had never really given much thought to. But for an ad layout, the details involving the font of letters was monumentally important.

Every day, Thomas would eat at his desk. Mostly he would have a tomato and cheese sandwich on whole wheat bread, with an apple. He would sip chamomile tea as he ate his lunch. Thomas was a devoted vegetarian.

From time to time, Thomas would share his thoughts with me. There is no nice way to put this. Thomas was being pushed out, the family just thought he was getting too old to work any more. I think that they may have had some degree of humanitarian concern for Thomas. I think that they genuinely wanted him to begin enjoying retired life. Thomas was in total disagreement. He loved his job. Sadly, it was all he had in life.

Thomas was a long-term widower. He still kept a picture of his late wife on his desk, just to the right hand side of his computer screen. Often times, he spoke of his wife as if she was still alive. It was sometimes a bit eerie.

I am ever so grateful for having known Thomas. He taught all so very much about the nuts and bolts of writing and of the importance of choosing just the right size and font of the lettering for an ad layout.

In February of 1999, Thomas retired. They had a cake for him in the lunch room. Mr. Epstein gave him a gold watch and said a few kind words about Thomas. Then Thomas got up and choked on his words as he thanked everyone for the gold watch. As, we all chipped in a few dollars toward the glittering time piece. That was about three o’clock in the afternoon. The entire ceremonial process lasted about 15 minutes, maybe 20 minutes at the longest. Then we all went back to our work stations and carried on.

At 5:00 that evening, Thomas and I shook hands and said goodbye. Thomas had all his stuff in one of those cardboard banker’s boxes. I remember the framed picture of his wife was on top of everything else.

About a month after he retired, Thomas and I met for lunch in a little restaurant in Morristown. It was all so strange. He looked a lot older than I had remembered him, just a month ago. There was a sadness in the tone of his voice. He told me that he was lost without his work. I had the feeling that Thomas did not have a lot of friends.

I was never to see Thomas ever again. We parted on good terms. When we left the little restaurant, we told each other that we’d have lunch again some time. We never did.

Today, when I look at a blank page of my computer screen and being to write a story or article, I think of Thomas. I reflect upon his great love for words, his dedication to detail, and the importance he held for choosing just the right font style and size for an ad layout.

Thomas McAndrews pretty much lived his life quietly and without any fanfare. He was a painfully lonely man. He deeply grieved for his wife, each and every day of his life. It showed in his eyes. There are times, when I am writing at my desk, that I can feel his presence.

Richard Mabey Jr. is a freelance writer. He can be reached at richardmabeyjr@hotmail.com. Please put on the subject line: My Life Publications.