World War II Navy and Produce Vet – ‘Too Soon’ Lee

Lee was a veteran produce clerk at a store I managed in the 1980’s.

By the time we worked together, Lee was well into his 60’s. By all rights he should have been long retired, especially not handling heavy produce for a living, even being part-time. He never complained. Lee was an ex-Navy man who served during World War II. He even knew my father-in-law George, another WWII Navy vet. 

A curious habit Lee had, was that he always showed up an hour before his scheduled time. A former produce manager, upon arrival he carefully walked the department. No doubt scrutinizing the quality, the stock conditions, and any merchandising changes I had made.

Because of his consistent early arrival, the crew referred to him as ‘Too-soon Lee.’

Lee was a tough old dude, quiet and soft-spoken. He came to work nicely dressed, had a full head of carefully combed gray hair. Anybody else might have mistaken this first impression as passive, due to his 5’ 3” height and soaking-wet, 90 Lb. stature. But he had a fiery spirit when aroused. I complimented his anchor-tattooed arms one day, exposed while we built a display. He quickly buttoned his long sleeves.

“I hate these things,” he said. “Got ‘em one night on leave in port.”

Lee had long overcome his alcohol addiction and was possibly one reason his work career had extended so long. Still, Lee was my staunchest supporter. He complimented the things he thought I was doing right and was unafraid to offer suggestions to make things better. 

Being the early bird that he was (even though many of his shifts were swing or closing), after Lee walked the department, he retreated to the employee lounge with his newspaper and a cup of coffee until his shift began. Lee was set in this routine and disliked it whenever I asked him to clock in early on busy days. Although he always complied.

After I was promoted to supervisor, Lee and I lost touch. Years later, when all the supervisor jobs were eliminated, I ended up briefly as an assistant store manager in the same chain. 

It was an important, yet mostly thankless and uninspiring job.

One evening during a busy Christmas week, in the middle of monitoring things; overseeing cashiers and courtesy clerks and putting on my best assistant store manager face, I ran into Lee. Finally retired, he was shopping and flagged me down.

“What in the world are you doing?” Lee asked.

“Well, you know, just trying to keep a handle on things around here,” I answered. Just glad to see a familiar face.

“No. I mean, what are you doing away from produce?” Lee asked, quite firmly.

I was taken a little aback. He was right. I disliked being away from what I knew and loved and what I had devoted 20-plus years of my career. But the company offered no other path after scratching our positions. If I wanted to stay in produce, it would mean leaving the familiarity and security of the chain. Lee must have seen the pain in my face.

“You need to get back into produce. Somewhere,” he said.

Not long afterwards, I followed Lee’s advice and sought greener pastures. And even though that path took more than a few twists and turns, it all worked out in the end. I sometimes think of Lee and that pivotal moment. I never saw him again, and understand he passed away not long after I ran into him. I wish I could thank him. 

I can only reflect that ‘Too soon Lee’ left us well, all too soon.