When my accounting practice went from a part-time seasonal pastime to a full-time firm I needed to bring in talented employees. Bev, a close friend of the family, had many years of experience working for other tax firms so I asked her to work for me. She accepted the offer.
Decades started to pile up. The joke around the office was Bev worked for my firm longer than I had. It wasn’t far from the truth. Bev was always a talented and faithful employee. She did good work and I could trust her.
But time counts, and keeps counting. Bev had something few people ever possess: talent and personality. Clients loved Bev and for good reason. She knew her stuff and made people around her feel comfortable. In my darkest hours she was there to hold the firm together. When my youngest daughter was born with birth defects she kept the office open while my mental wounds healed.
I have fond memories of those days. I also remember how it ended. Bev comes from a farming background; solid German stock. What I mean to say is she isn’t a petite girl. Wisconsin winters can be brutal. Arctic blasts made it difficult for her to breathe outside. I was worried about her. It was the excuse used to force her to retire.
But that was a lie. The truth is something was changing in Bev. It started slow and steadily advanced. She wasn’t as good at taxes as she once had been. Once she was great at taxes, now she was merely good and rapidly approaching mediocre. It is a terrible thing to say about someone with such an honorable and distinguished career.
I noticed the changes in Bev when she reached her mid-60s. It was small at first. Little things were missed. Sometimes the tax return was correct, but little things around the tax return were forgotten. A note was not updated; a basis statement not completed. And clients still loved Bev.
Each year got progressively worse until the work was unacceptable. I had to review all her work at a much higher level. Bev had to go. It was not an easy choice. She accepted her retirement and took to it like a pig takes to shit, but she was hurt at the time. She still brings her personal tax work in for us to prepare.
Is that Footsteps I Here?