COVID-19 became very personal Sunday when it took the life of Robert H. Garff. He was a true friend, the finest kind of mentor. In 2002 when I was asked to assume the reins of Deseret Book Company as its president and chief executive officer, Bob Garff was chairman of Deseret Book’s board of directors.
Deseret Book was, and is, owned by Deseret Management Corporation, which manages most of the for-profit businesses owned by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Bob had to have wondered what in the world church leaders were thinking when they appointed me to lead that company. While I’d had years of experience in the publishing side of Deseret Book’s business, I knew little or nothing about retail, operations, supply chain, information systems, accounting or finance. Balance sheets, P&Ls and intercompany eliminations were largely a mystery to me. Rubik’s Cubes made a lot more sense.
And to make the situation more dicey, Deseret Book had been operating at a loss for several years and was in need of a turnaround. What did I know about turning a business around? Basically the square root of zero. Nothing. Nada.
Suddenly, however, Bob found himself faced with the task of shepherding a novice leader; he, who as chairman of the Garff Automotive Group, was one of the West’s most successful, accomplished businessmen. He who had been speaker of the Utah House and then chairman of the 2002 Winter Olympics. Bob was a giant in our community and had long been considered such. No one would have blamed him if he had wondered if time spent with Deseret Book and its new, inexperienced leader was worth his time.
But he never made me feel that way. Not once. Not ever. If I had a dollar for every time he said, “Sheri, just remember that I’ll always have your back,” I could purchase a new vehicle from any one of his many automobile dealerships — including the luxury lots. He said he would have my back, and he always did.
As we started trying to pull Deseret Book out of the hole it was in, he asked the right questions and pushed me forward without making me feel that I was being pushed. When we discovered a multiyear accounting error that forced us to take a big loss in one of the early years, he stood by me as we reported the mistake and took our lumps with Deseret Book’s owner. When we were finally back in the black and the recession hit us hard in 2008, his calm, supportive, optimistic demeanor helped me keep my wits about me as we struggled to save jobs and move the company forward.
He never made me feel inexperienced, ineffective or insufficient for the tasks at hand, though he and I both knew that if someone more qualified than I had been appointed to my role, his job would have been a lot easier.
He always had my back. And because he did, I had the luxury of time — time to learn how to lead an organization through a grueling period of change.
It has been more than a decade now since we have worked closely together in these capacities. My job changed and he was released as board chairman. But anytime I saw him at a civic function or church meeting, he would flash that huge smile of his across the room and greet me as though there was no one else he would have rather seen that day.
Great leaders — leaders who do not think their leadership is about them — are rare. Bob Garff was one of those leaders. And we have never needed leaders like that more than we do today.
Were we able during this unique time to convene in a funeral to celebrate his life, there would be tributes galore — all richly deserved — about Bob’s success as a businessman and community leader, public servant, church leader, husband, father and grandfather. We would hear about how he built upon his father’s legacy and established a true automotive empire, how he helped save the 2002 Winter Olympic Games, how he steered the Utah House through an unusually challenging era, how he and his family have given generously to one worthy cause after another, and how he served as a mission and temple president for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
What we would have actually heard, though, is how he built people and gave them a chance to grow. Including a young, inexperienced leader who was far less seasoned and experienced than he. A young leader who felt overwhelmed by the task she’d been asked to do.
But he had her back. And that made all the difference.
Sheri Dew is the executive vice president and chief content officer of Deseret Management Corporation.