It is February 1992.  Seven people from Denver, Colorado meet near Aspen to do some cross-country skiing.  This is an annual backpacking ski trip for these experienced skiers.  But the weather quickly changes as a winter storm blows heavy drifts of snow.  The skiers can barely see their own feet.  It is cold, dark, and dead.

Two of the skiers, Ken Torp and Elliott Brown, leave the others behind to find a safe path, but they become lost.  Richard Rost and Andrea Brett strike off on their own, and nine hours later, they reach their car and reported the others missing.  Torp and Brown are soon rescued.  That leaves Rob and Dee Dubin and their friend of ten years, Brigitte Schluger, a Denver art gallery owner.  The three sleep in snow caves and an empty cabin.  It is cold, dark, and they will probably be dead soon.

After four days in the bitter cold a rescue helicopter spots them.  But no sooner do they stagger off the mountain than their real troubles begin.

Ms. Schluger is upset at accounts that the Dubins’ saved her life.  She says that her friends betrayed her.  “I would take thirty steps, and he would start screaming, ‘Brigitte, keep moving!  You’ve got to keep moving!’  I just felt like this little Roman slave girl, and there’s this guy on the cart behind going, 'Faster!  Faster!’”

Mr. Dubin, in turn, accuses Ms. Schluger of everything from panicking, to crumbling under the media glare, to insecurity stemming from a “lack of internal values”.  He says that yes, he and his wife had to exhort the less-experienced Ms. Schluger, and made her break trail, but only after carrying all of her gear.  “We saved her life!  She would have died if it weren’t for me.  There’s not a doubt in the world.”

Mr. Rost believes that Mr. Torp and Mr. Brown, the strongest skiers in the group, abandoned the rest of the party and did not warn them adequately of the weather risks.  “People don’t know the truth of what happened up on that peak”, he said.

Driven by resentments over their ordeal and the way they were portrayed in the media, the group’s members turn on each other in a flurry of recriminations.  There are accusations of mistreatment, abandonment, and abuse.  Attempts to cash in on a movie and book deal fuel more friction and finger pointing.  The group splits into two factions, each with its own competing top-flight Hollywood agent, each peddling its own view of who should be cast as heroes.

“If you’re talking about egos, we’ve got some big ones here”, says Yost.  “I’m not proud of the fact that I’m associated with this whole thing.  I think it’s been one great big screw-up from beginning to end.”

It is now May 1992.  You are visiting Lake Elementary School in Oceanside, California.  The kids in Mr. Alter’s fifth grade class close their books and excitedly line up for recess. 

You notice that several of the ten-year-olds have unusual haircuts.  Very unusual.  They are bald.  Thirteen of them.

As the children run out to the playground, you notice that one of the kids moves a little slower than the others.  His name is Ian O’Gorman, and he has cancer.  Several weeks ago he had a malignant tumor removed from his intestine.  He then began chemotherapy.

Ian decided to shave his head as soon as his hair began to fall out in clumps, rather than wait for all of it to fall out.  To his surprise, his friends wanted to join him.  “The last thing he would want is to not fit in, to be made fun of.  So we just wanted to make him feel better and not left out”, says Kyle Hanslik, one of the ten-year-olds.  Scott Sebelius, another friend, says, “If everybody has their head shaved, sometimes people don’t know who’s who.  They don’t know who has cancer, and who just shaved their head.”

Two groups of people; two crises; two different responses.  One group, faced with a life-threatening crisis, split apart in factions, pointed fingers, and turned the whole event into something they all hope to someday forget.  Another group, with one of them facing a life-threatening illness, pulled together in a show of care and support that none of them will ever forget.

What’s the difference?  Why the different responses?  Why the differences in the way seven adults did what they did, and the way thirteen fifth graders did what they did?

We would probably have to know a lot more about the people involved to really know why they did what they did.  So perhaps the better questions would be asked about ourselves.

* When you are faced with tough challenges, how do you respond?

* If you are frustrated by your circumstances, what do you – and your team - collectively do?

* When you are striving to get better and meet lofty goals, how do you approach them?

* Do you concern yourself with who is to blame and who deserves credit?  Or do you pull together with the rest of the team to become better?

* Do you join together to blow away targets and expectations?  Do you all do everything you can to create the kind of organization where you want to work?

Every analogy breaks down at some point.  This one broke down long ago. You aren’t freezing to death in a storm, and hopefully you aren’t sick.  Whether we talk about a storm, a war, a symphony concert, or changing tires at sixty-five miles an hour, analogies break down.  But the lessons are still there.  Whether you are a franchise owner, a store manager, an employee who just started, home office support, or something else, don’t you want a company that is profitable, growing, and focused on building a strong team?  Don’t you want to deliver results?  Do you want a place to work where descriptions like fun, warm, caring, thriving, and exciting are accurate?  Would you like to be able to use words like “supportive” and “on the same team” and “successful” to describe yourselves?

But that’s not the norm.  That’s not often how it is in business, so maybe you shouldn’t expect it.  Some would argue that it can’t be done.  It’s weird and fluffy and doesn’t pay the bills.

Guess what?  It’s not the norm in a fifth grade class either.  Just ask Julian Handberg, who I joined in teasing mercilessly in the fifth grade.  But ask Ian O’Gorman whether it CAN be done.   I suspect that he would make a strong case for  “yes”, with his classmates as star witnesses.

No, it’s not the norm.  But you are not normal, are you?  (And I mean that in the best possible way!).  Greatness isn’t normal.  Achievers are not normal. The top ten percent are not normal – and here I’m talking about top and bottom line results. I would bet my annual ski pass that the top 10% of franchise owners create this kind of team.  The top 10% of employees help create and feel a part of this kind of team.  The top 10% of store managers have a vision for this kind of team and work on it every day.  And their top and bottom lines blow away competitors who ignore it.  

You can accomplish truly great things.  Sure, you have had challenges – lots of changes, some difficult adjustments, a weak economy, and perhaps disappointing results.  You are still in the middle of some of those challenges, and there will be more to come. But if you and your team will individually and collectively do everything you can to make this whole thing work, it will. 

Nothing can stand in the way of people with a clear vision, goals, and passion.

So go shave some heads.

For more information: francoach@focalpointcoaching.com or call Alice at 877-433-6225