Saturday, March 16, 2019
Great Man, Rest in Peace
One of the finest men I've ever known – Eddie Anderson – died, unexpectedly, in his sleep on March 15. A shock to his family, of course, and to everyone who ever knew him, too. That he loved his wife, sons and grand children is without saying. They were his number ones. He also loved everyone he met, though I don't know he'd have admitted it. But I, and his many, many friends, know he did. It was how he lived.
Eddie gave 52 years of his life to making Grumman and, later, Northrop Grumman, work from within. Every executive, any person who wanted to stage an event or meeting, anyone who needed still photos or near-feature length movies (back when) or videos to promote the company or product went to Eddie. Had a bulb that just went out in a projector in middle of a meeting? Call Eddie. A new airplane's roll-out ceremony that was to be as grand as Oscar night (literally!), Call Eddie.
At the end of our careers, he and I worked in adjoining offices. I would tease him that he was the “Grum's” Sgt. Bilko. Remember the old TV show? Bilko could get anything done, sometimes how he did they didn't ask. Nothing illegal. Just shrewd. Street smart. That, to me, was Eddie. If it couldn't work, he made it work. If it couldn't be found, he found it. If it was too big a project he'd cut each part into pieces, perfect each part, put them all together and let the whole shebang shine like a diamond.
As intelligent as he was, so was he humble and principled. He could stand up to any exec who was out of line but he did it with class – and was always right (and they knew it). He would make the same effort to help the lowest employee on the corporate totem pole. To Eddie, all were equal.
To work with Eddie on anything was to truly enjoy the work. To hang out with Eddie was no different. Life was to be enjoyed. He made life around him fun. No, more than that, a joy.
To the end of his career, his talents were known and used by people from coast to coast throughout the Northrop Grumman Corporation. But as the number of years of his service to the company increased, the company's presence shrank on Long Island. I would tell him he would be the one to close the lights in the place. I was wrong, but only by a bit. Eddie retired just a short time ago while there were still about 300 or so folks at work for Northrop Grumman in Bethpage. Ironically, he was brought back by the company to move the contents and close the Grumman History Center. Eddie, you were closing the lights. Job well, very well done. Rest in peace. You earned it.
