Someone Great
Mentors Series #1 - TDM
Over the course of the next 6 months, I’ll be dropping some posts that will help me reflect on my career and in a sense write a conclusion of sorts. I realized after I wrote “Harvard Business School BullS@#$%” that it was really a reflection and useful as I close this chapter of life. You spend enough time in this business you develop a family tree of sorts. You become a product of the influences of others and of the influences others had on them. If you are lucky, at the end of a career you will look back and realize that the success you have had was just as much a result of those influences as your own hard work.
James Murphy, lead singer of the alt-rock band LCD Soundsystem, wrote a haunting song back in 2007 called “Someone Great.” Its electronic beat and Murphy’s falsetto is the perfect mix to reflect on someone that has had an impact on you to your core. In many ways, it has become a song that I will tie to my good friend, mentor, and forever my Captain, Terry Daines Mosher. I think it’s fitting that as I write this essay that I give it the same title as Murphy’s song.
We (his wonderful family, his dear friends, and the 1000s of people to have worn a uniform and were influenced by him) lost a giant in August of 2017. Terry passed away suddenly as that summer came to end and over the last five years, I have thought frequently about him. I miss him dearly and I’d like to use this essay to talk a bit about what I learned from him.
I served with Terry at a pivotal point in my career. I have tried to emulate many of his most endearing traits since but have most times found success in that endeavor elusive. I was Terry’s XO in USS COWPENS (CG 63) in Yokosuka Japan from 2006-2008. COWPENS was a magical ship. She was my third Cruiser and for those that have sailed in these ships, you know that they are of a certain kind. Lead by a seasoned Major Commander, run day to day by proven second tour department heads, a talented CPO mess, and since she was forward deployed, a crew that was quite literally the BEST set of operators I have ever sailed with. There could not have been a better place to serve as an XO and prepare myself for Command-at-Sea than aboard COWPENS and alongside Terry. There are SO many of his traits I would like to share. But I will leave it to three.
Trust
There are two types of leaders in the world. Those that you have to fight to earn their trust. And those that give it away freely. I’ve worked for some fantastic people on both sides of this coin. As a Junior Officer growing up and qualifying, you professional success rests on level of knowledge and your ability to demonstrate trustworthiness. All your entry level qualification rest on a foundation of trust and level of knowledge, you won’t earn that qualification without both. And rightfully so. At night, in the middle of Sagami Wan, the Captain sleeps while you have the watch. Read the accounts of the Fitzgerald collision and you’ll get the point.
Terry was a leader in the “give it away freely” camp. He believed in his heart of hearts that people wanted to be their best and were looking for an opportunity to express it. He believed in connecting with people at that level. His smile was infectious and though he had exacting standards, he saw the best in you and wanted even more for you. And the best part of all, you knew it. You knew he thought the most of you, that he trusted that you were going to do right, that you were capable of doing amazing things. You felt 10ft tall and bullet proof around him.
Sailing in the waters of the Western Pacific is a varsity level event. Nothing in the world compares to taking passage into Hong Kong or sailing through Strait of Malacca to berth in Kuala Lumpur. To enter or leave our homeport in Yokosuka, we passed through one of the busiest and most dense shipping lanes in the world.
Terry inspired a jazz band to make that passage. His night orders typically read, “call me 30 min before we cross the street.” Arriving pierside in Yokosuka any time before noon, required that we cross through the outbound traffic lane from the Tokyo traffic separation scheme and join the inbound lane of traffic entering that same scheme in the very wee hours of the morning. To say it was busy would be an understatement, but it was always an orderly busy. You would rely on radar on reading the lights of the ships you saw. His adage, “when amongst merchants, drive like a merchant.”
Everyone of our watch teams could make that passage. He would come to the bridge and every one of our officer watchstanders had their place. He made them feel like the experts he had trained them to be. Armed with the confidence inspired from his unconditional trust in them, they riffed off each other, picked up each other’s slack in a measured manner and never missed a beat. He’d sit in his chair (a sign of immense confidence) and play his instrument at just the right time, but only when it was needed. It was a thing a beauty and it all stemmed from that simple giving of trust and the resulting self-confidence in others it inspired.
Passion
Anyone that knew Terry would tell you that he had some obsessions. Apple products, cameras, photography, music, gadgets of any type, tinkering about, training, 3M, driving the ship….the list is endless. Get him going on anyone of these topics and you would loose an hour at the least. The fact that he shared them with you so openly was something of beauty, it afforded the opportunity for connection.
Terry brought this passion to bear unabashedly. You knew that he was deeply interested, intrigued even. When he went to work on something he was passionate about, the result was amazing. We spent hours under the Petronas towers with a tripod and his camera trying to get the perfect shot of them gleaming under the night sky; we got it. He would labor over picking the best playlist to enjoy a dinner over. I still have songs in various playlists inspired by that music. Get into a discussion with him about training, or the Aegis Weapons System and you had better pack a lunch, you were going to be there for a while and you would walk away smarter.
Terry’s passion for ship driving led to a set of standing orders for our watchstanders that reached Opus status. Artfully written, concise and clear, they represented a lifetime of driving ships, his intrinsic knowledge passed on. His thinking and obsession with managing qualifications and training led to writing his own qualification data base called COMPASS, as a Lieutenant. His commitment to building a better mouse trap when it came to training a ship led to his authorship of the biggest revision to Surface Force Training Manual in a decade while he was the Commodore of the Afloat Training Group.
I’m certain you can be a leader without a passion for something. But if you are a leader with a passion you can create followers out of thin air. People recognize that you have a capacity for commitment to something. They recognize its genuineness and your authenticity. Passions make you relatable, they show your humanity and give you yet another opportunity to generate connection. The passionate leader will take you places, you just have to get on-board.
Family
Spend any time as part of ship’s company and you will acquire two families. It’s a constant struggle. The gray lady is a demanding partner. Your people, your gear, they become just as much a part of you as your own family. It makes sense when you think about it. 567 ft, you and 300 of your closest relatives in the middle of the Pacific, you better have a feeling that this is your family; because in a way, they are all you have in what can be a pretty unforgiving environment.
Then there is your own family. Your spouse, your kids. The ones you leave behind when you take in all lines and head down the channel. The ones that can sense that even though you are home you are a million miles away from them. The ones that put up with the phone calls on Saturday, the ones that have to get their vacation cut short when you have to come home because the ship needs you.
Terry loved both of his families dearly. But one always held pride of place. He looked forward to any opportunity he could get to be with the crew. It energized him to see them happy. When we were tied up after returning home, his wife and two kids would be standing on the pier waiting for him. Whether we had been gone for a week, a month, or 4 months, in Hong Kong or Sydney, they would be there. He was the first one off the ship, and the last one to come aboard before we left.
We had just moored to the buoy in Hong Kong. The barge had barely been secured and the first liberty launch was arriving. I was in my stateroom doing XO stuff trying to get the ship cleaned up and ready to put the crew on liberty. I had a line of people standing outside in the passage way needing something. He pushed past them already dressed and overnight bag packed slung over his shoulder. “XO, let’s go, the ladies are waiting!” He said with a smile on his face. “Captain, I need about 30 min. Almost wrapped up.” I remarked, feeling a bit frazzled. “Bill, let’s go, we have great Command Duty Officers and excellent Enlisted Section Leaders, they’ll take care of whatever it is you are worried about. They’ll call us if they need us. Besides, I heard that little girl of yours has been working on taking her first steps, I know they are excited to see you.” That was Terry.
Every week or so at-sea, you go alongside a replenishment ship to receive fuel and stores. A pretty exciting evolution and dangerous. Getting alongside the oiler and connected is a high-risk evolution. Settling out with a separation of 140-160ft and literally connecting tons of metal together requires skill and patience. Once you get hooked up and have learned how the ships are riding together it calms down quite a bit. Terry and I would spend those hours talking. Talking about a whole manner of things, big and small. But I will always remember during one of those evolutions, where he was almost somber. He said to me to always remember that at some point the Navy was going to break my heart. He implored me to make sure that I had my priorities straight. Family, faith, hobbies, make sure you take care of those things as well as you take care of this ship. I still hear that reminder even now.
Wrap-Up
I’m forever grateful to have served with Terry. I learned so much from him. And I sincerely wish that we could have had more time together (everyone that knew him would indeed say the same thing). He has a ton of legacies: two wonderful adult children that are decent and kind human beings, numerous officers, chiefs, and sailors that have gone on to do amazing things in and out of the Navy. He touched so many.
Trust, passion, and family are but only a few of the lessons I learned from him. I offer these reflections for my readers interested in being better leaders and better humans. For the most part, we are what we are. Trying to be someone else doesn’t work that well in most instances. Whatever it is that sets you apart, that makes you who you are, give of it freely, be authentic, and use it in a way that establishes a human to human connection with those you work with.
If you had an opportunity to sail with Terry, leave a comment about how he impacted you. If you have a quality you’ve seen in a leader that has made you willing to walk through fire for them, leave that too.
I am excited about the opportunity to grow a community of authentic and transparent leaders that are willing to do hard work to grow and become the best versions of themselves! Subscribe to the substack and DM me on LinkedIn if you want to continue the dialogue