Remembering Greg – by Adam Rivkin

Even now, looking back, I feel like I knew Greg for a long time. I remember feeling that way, too, when he was alive, even when I’d only known him for a few weeks or months. We met when I was in college; I was an intern on the mortgage desk and he was my boss. I’d had bosses before and I’ve had them since; some have been good, others insufferable. The handful of good bosses in my life have all had classic ‘good-boss’ qualities: patience, intelligence, and a sense of shared responsibility. I learned a lot from these generous people and hope to emulate them in my personal and professional lives. Most of all, though, I’d like to emulate Greg. And when I think about why, I can only come up with the following: Greg never acted like anybody’s boss.

 

I don’t know if this was always true, because contrary to my feeling of having known him for so long, I only knew Greg for a few years. Others’ memories of him may differ, but I remember as such: Before anything, Greg was my friend. The first day we met – his first day being my boss – I figured we’d talk work. He was a busy guy, I’d been told, and shouldered significant responsibility. The people in HR scheduled a time for us to meet; we were supposed to spend a half-hour going over the projects I’d help with that summer. But Greg had no interest in meeting this way, so that’s not how it went. Always a curious guy, Greg spent the half hour of our meeting asking me questions. Where was I from? Where’d I go to college? Was I enjoying it there? Did I have a girlfriend? Where in the city was I living that summer? Was I having any problems? Could he help me with anything?

 

I remember being surprised by these questions; frankly, he probably wasn’t supposed to be asking a lot of them. They tended to be sort of personal. Really personal, in retrospect, for a guy who spent his career focusing on the seemingly impersonal worlds of financial markets and policy. But this would be the first thing I learned about Greg: He wanted to learn about me. He didn’t want our relationship to be defined by work.

 

The second thing I learned about Greg was that he didn’t want to be my boss. I know this because he told me then, and several times thereafter, “I’m not your boss.” This was technically not true – he was my boss – but he made clear that as long as we worked together, we were partners. The first time he said it, I figured he was just being nice. He was twice my age, he oversaw my work, he was most definitely my boss. I told him as much. “That could easily change. Someday I might be working for you.” I laughed. Never serious with me, Greg got serious for a second: “I’m not joking; you never know.”

 

This would be the third thing I learned about Greg: He believed anyone could do anything. At times so much so that it’d seem unreasonable. After he died, I learned Greg was notorious throughout his career for possessing this kind of optimism; he gave all kinds of people chances. He did so without a thought for himself, and out of a genuine faith in other people. I can’t pretend to know what he thought about society at large, or people in general, but Greg believed in individuals more than anybody else I’ve known.

 

Over the years, Greg helped me more times than I can count. He put me – and others – before himself, over and over again. And he did so at his own expense and even detriment. It’s important to remember Greg spent most of his career on trading floors, where selflessness isn’t rewarded, but discouraged. In spite of this environment, Greg was committed first and foremost to other people. Being this way in most circumstances is tough enough; in finance it is practically unheard of.

 

So when I think back on the time I spent with Greg, and what I learned from him, I remember these qualities. Greg was a great mentor to me not only because he was patient, intelligent, and responsible. He was a great mentor because he didn’t seem to see himself as one. Despite his hard-earned seniority, he never flaunted it or took it for granted. And come to think of it, he didn’t even seem to take it that seriously. Maybe that was his biggest lesson of all – beneath the money-chasing and job-hopping that defined his resume, Greg was a man who was in touch with what truly mattered in life.