Have you ever met someone who seemed like a superhero? He or she had endless energy, brains and courage? Someone who made it all look so easy? That’s Arne Sorenson, Marriott’s CEO, who left this world way too soon at age 62 after battling pancreatic cancer.
The news of his passing hit the world a couple weeks ago, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Having left Marriott more than five years ago, I was surprised by my reaction, and then it brought back so many fond memories of my time there, and the great career and life experiences I had with Arne.
I remember going on media visits with Arne. He’d insist on driving. Other executives took a car service while I briefed them in the back seat. Arne drove both of us, and I briefed him between traffic signals. Or we ran through the streets of New York City, and I briefed him for the next appointment while on foot (me in heels, trying to keep up with him). Truth is, he really didn't need my briefings. In time, I learned to hit the high points, wore flats, and suggested shortcuts between destinations.
He was a natural and gifted public speaker and at ease in front of the cameras mainly because he was at ease with himself. He was always in command of the message, and his brilliant mind could access the facts and figures without looking encumbered.
It was during one of those media visits that Arne made the simplest of gestures that meant the world to me. Upon arriving for an appointment with a major wire service, we discovered the entire editorial board of six or seven seated on one side of a large conference table. The male editor greeted us, invited Arne to sit across from him and pointed to a chair in the corner for me. As a staffer or what some journalists sometimes call “a PR flack,” I was fine with this spot, but Arne wasn’t. He pulled the chair over to his own and said, “You can sit here.” Arne literally gave me a seat at the table.
Years later, I suggested to Arne that he share this story in his blog as an example of being a male ally and treating everyone with respect. He wasn’t feeling it, not believing there was anything extraordinary in what he did. Being humble, he said it was my story to tell, not his.
So, as we celebrate Women’s History Month this March, I’m sharing my little story with you. Arne was a superhero, whether in front of a camera or behind-the-scenes, acting with integrity and humility in his everyday actions.
Thank you, Arne, for offering me that seat at the table, and for all the fun memories of our media visits. You will always be a superhero in my eyes.
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