Remembering Tom McClendon

A colleague passed away suddenly a few days ago. Tom McClendon was someone I respected, someone I appreciated. He brought demonstrable value to our company and to my own effectiveness. His ultimate role was as Vice President/Research for the broadcasting companies. His insistence on doing things the right way rather than opting for expediency was legendary. He had, in a word, integrity.

Even as he demanded that we stay on track, stay true to our purpose, he found ways to let us know that he did so because he so wanted us to be successful. He was intense and focused, both in the workplace and on the softball fields where he coached in off-hours. He wanted to win in all endeavors, not out of arrogance, but for the sheer love of excellence in pursuit of an objective.

Tom made those around him better. He could make you feel so respected and, within minutes, bring you up short, snap you to attention and demand that you think again and sharpen your perspective on a topic. He could be fearsome in his bluntness.

He was the quintessential researcher, Tom, a man of few, but incisive, words, who let others take the spotlight and seemed happy to be the professional wind beneath their wings. Sure, he could and did make presentations to hundreds of colleagues with the utmost confidence earned through his experience and knowledge. He stepped up to the podium not because he sought attention, but because he wanted deeply to convey ideas. His need was to inform and to teach, to enlighten and open minds.

He was both a curmudgeon, quite by design, and a pussycat, a part of himself that he sometimes hid beneath the surface. On the one hand, one might say that Tom “didn’t suffer fools gladly” and that would be true. On the other hand, one could surely also say that Tom spent considerable energy as a coach, a role that often requires patience and endurance of spirit. One has only to know Tom’s wife, Lynne, to know that his bright, shiny intellect lived side-by-side with a warm humanity. He wasn’t just learned, this man, he was smart enough to win and remain married for 40 years to a smart, accomplished, and resoundingly good woman.

Personally, I will remember many kindnesses Tom showed me. I won’t forget the many times he listened carefully to my concerns, and then offered his usual rational advice. I will remember his joy when talking about his beloved Clemson Tigers. I will always smile to recall his disdain for “frou-frou” foods and his often-repeated question: “Can I just have a hamburger, please?”

Tom McClendon made a difference because he cared. We were lucky to have his guidance, fortunate that he not only loved his work, but was intensely loyal to our company. It was good to have Tom in our corner. He touched many lives and left us better for knowing him. He will be missed and he will be remembered. Rest in peace, Tom.