Carl F. Thelin

            I WANTED TO KILL MY BOSS 

            Having my own office and working on the most important projects was nice. Despite asking for a transfer to the Proving Grounds Safety Section time after time, I did not get even a hint of getting that transfer. I was a productive designer and a good supervisor for the 30 or so designers and engineers working in the design department. The chief draftsman, Monty was a hold-over from the WW II days of tank-designing Hed was dependent upon his seniority and not an effective leader. After a while, the people up the chain from him began coming directly to me to get things done. I got the best projects and the best people to work with and got things done right and on time. Soon it was too obvious that I was the one to see – by people above or below me.

            Monty finally grew some backbone. He complained to the personnel department that I was being insubordinate – usurping his authority. It seemed to be true. Three levels of bosses above Monty were asking me to do that, just to get things done. Monty’s direct boss was John, my friend who mentored me greatly when I first came to GM. John knew me, and trusted me to do the work, by-passing Monty. When the personnel committee met to chew me out for insubordination, I was shocked that John did not speak up. I thought he should have told the committee that he was the one asking me to do those things. GM is like the Army. The reprimand went on the record. A week later John dropped by my office and sat next to me. All designers have a three-foot long 4-inch wide flat steel bar for drawing long straight lines. I picked it up; held it like a sword and said “John, I ought to kill you for not defending me.” John glared at me and walked out.

            Later I found out that John called my wife, Ramona, and told her that I was acting crazy. She called our pastor, who drove to the front gate of the Tech Center and called me from there. I approved his admission so that he could come in. We met with the head of the personnel department – a friend of mine as well. They first said that it was understandable that I was upset, but it was unacceptable what I threatened. So, I was ordered to go home, see a shrink, and be weaned off drugs before I could come back.

            Drugs? Yes. I was on uppers and downers, courtesy of the GM doctors at the Tech Center health clinic. I was pooped by the 60 hour work week. The doctor said “Take these pills, they will give you energy and help you loose weight, too.” Boy, was I ever wired and hyperactive on those amphetamines. Pretty soon I went back to the doc and complained that I was getting dizzy sometimes as I ran up and down the stairs -- my department was on the third floor. “Oh, well, you need to calm down a bit, Carl. Here are some pills that will help you do that.” Again, I had an endless supply of free pills from the company. Pep-pill uppers in the morning -- Valium downers at home. Sure I got lots of work done. However, I was also nuts enough to threaten one of by best friends.

            Finally I returned to work, but agreed to transfer to the lamest department at the Engineering Staff, just to get away from Monty. These people worked on car bodies for the overseas divisions. I think it is where GM stashed all their incompetent people.  

            Twenty years later, while testifying in Texas, a GM defense lawyer surprise me, my client, and everyone else by saying, “Mr. Thelin. You are here because you hate GM. Is it true that you were disciplined by them because you attempted to kill you boss?”

PRODUCT ANALYSIS follows