SwiftVets.com

[Al_Hawaii]

I received this in my email today.

This is a long one but a must read. Thanks to all the Mr. Crawfords and
all the "difference makers" in our lives and thanks to COL Moschgat for
reminding us of them.

10 Things a Janitor Can Teach You about Leadership (by - Col. James
Moschgat, 12th Operations Group, Commander Graduate United States Air
Force Academy - Class of 1977)

William Bill Crawford certainly was an unimpressive figure, one you could
easily overlook during a hectic day at the U.S. Air Force Academy. Mr.
Crawford, as most of us referred to him back in the late 1970s, was our
squadron janitor.

While we cadets busied ourselves preparing for academic exams, athletic
events, Saturday morning parades and room inspections, or never-ending
leadership classes, Bill quietly moved about the squadron mopping and
buffing floors, emptying trash cans, cleaning toilets, or just tidying up
the mess 100 college-age kids can leave in a dormitory.

Sadly, and for many years, few of us gave him much notice, rendering
little more than a passing nod or throwing a curt, Gmorning! in his
direction as we hurried off to our daily duties. Why? Perhaps it was
because of the way he did his job-he always kept the squadron area
spotlessly clean, even the toilets and showers gleamed. Frankly, he did
his job so well, none of us had to notice or get involved. After all,
cleaning toilets was his job, not ours.

Maybe it was his physical appearance that made him disappear into the
background. Bill didn't move very quickly and, in fact, you could say he
even shuffled a bit, as if he suffered from some sort of injury. His gray
hair and wrinkled face made him appear ancient to a group of young
cadets.

And his crooked smile, well, it looked a little funny. Face it, Bill was
an old man working in a young person's world. What did he have to offer
us
on a personal level?

Finally, maybe it was Mr. Crawford's personality that rendered him almost
invisible to the young people around him. Bill was shy, almost painfully
so. He seldom spoke to a cadet unless they addressed him first, and that
didn't happen very often. Our janitor always buried himself in his work,
moving about with stooped shoulders, a quiet gait, and an averted gaze.
If he noticed the hustle and bustle of cadet life around him, it was hard
to
tell. So, for whatever reason, Bill blended into the woodwork and became
just another fixture around the squadron. The Academy, one of our
nations premier leadership laboratories, kept us busy from dawn till
dusk.

And Mr. Crawford...well, he was just a janitor.

That changed one fall Saturday afternoon in 1976. I was reading a book
about World War II and the tough Allied ground campaign in Italy, when I
stumbled across an incredible story. On Sept. 13, 1943, a Private William
Crawford from Colorado, assigned to the 36th Infantry Division, had been
involved in some bloody fighting on Hill 424 near Altavilla, Italy. The
words on the page leapt out at me: in the face of intense and
overwhelming hostile fire ... with no regard for personal safety on his
own initiative, Private Crawford single-handedly attacked fortified enemy
positions. It continued, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at
risk of life above and beyond the call of duty, the President of the
United States ... "Holy cow," I said to my roommate, "you're not going to
believe this, but I think our janitor is a Medal of Honor winner."

We all knew Mr. Crawford was a WWII Army vet, but that didn't keep my
friend from looking at me as if I was some sort of alien being.
Nonetheless, we couldn't wait to ask Bill about the story on Monday. We
met Mr. Crawford bright and early Monday and showed him the page in
question from the book, anticipation and doubt on our faces.

He stared at it for a few silent moments and then quietly uttered
something like, Yep, that's me. Mouths agape, my roommate and I looked
at one
another, then at the book, and quickly back at our janitor. Almost at
once we both stuttered, Why didn't you ever tell us about it? He slowly
replied after some thought, "That was one day in my life and it happened
a long time ago." I guess we were all at a loss for words after that.
We had to hurry off to class and Bill, well, he had chores to attend to.

However, after that brief exchange, things were never again the same
around our squadron. Word spread like wildfire among the cadets that we
had a hero in our midst - Mr. Crawford, our janitor, had won the Medal!
Cadets who had once passed by Bill with hardly a glance, now greeted him
with a smile and a respectful, Good morning, Mr. Crawford.

Those who had before left a mess for the janitor to clean up started
taking it upon themselves to put things in order. Most cadets routinely
stopped to talk to Bill throughout the day and we even began inviting him
to our formal squadron functions. He'd show up dressed in a conservative
dark suit and quietly talk to those who approached him, the only sign of
his heroics being a simple blue, star-spangled lapel pin.

Almost overnight, Bill went from being a simple fixture in our squadron
to one of our teammates. Mr. Crawford changed too, but you had to look
closely to notice the difference. After that fall day in 1976, he seemed
to move with more purpose, his shoulders didn't seem to be as stooped, he
met our greetings with a direct gaze and a stronger good morning in
return, and he flashed his crooked smile more often. The squadron
gleamed as always, but everyone now seemed to notice it more. Bill even
got to know most of us by our first names, something that didn't happen
often at the Academy.

While no one ever formally acknowledged the change, I think we became
Bill's cadets and his squadron. As often happens in life, events sweep
us away from those in our past. The last time I saw Bill was on
graduation day in June 1977. As I walked out of the squadron for the
last time, he shook my hand and simply said, Good luck, young man.

With that, I embarked on a career that has been truly lucky and blessed.
Mr. Crawford continued to work at the Academy and eventually retired in
his native Colorado where he resides today, one of four Medal of Honor
winners living in a small town.

A wise person once said, "It's not life that's important, but those you
meet along the way that make the difference." Bill was one who made a
difference for me. While I haven't seen Mr. Crawford in over twenty
years, he'd probably be surprised to know I think of him often. Bill
Crawford, our janitor, taught me many valuable, unforgettable leadership
lessons. Here are ten I'd like to share with you.

1. Be Cautious of Labels. Labels you place on people may define your
relationship to them and bound their potential. Sadly, and for a long
time,
we labeled Bill as just a janitor, but he was so much more. Therefore,
be cautious of a leader who callously says, Hey, he's just an Airman.
Likewise, don't tolerate the O-1, who says, I can't do that, I'm just a
lieutenant.

2. Everyone Deserves Respect. Because we hung the janitor label on Mr.
Crawford, we often wrongly treated him with less respect than others
around us. He deserved much more, and not just because he was a Medal of
Honor winner. Bill deserved respect because he was a janitor, walked
among us, and was a part of our team.

3. Courtesy Makes a Difference. Be courteous to all around you,
regardless of rank or position. Military customs, as well as common
courtesies, help bond a team. When our daily words to Mr. Crawford turned
from perfunctory hellos to heartfelt greetings, his demeanor and
personality outwardly changed. It made a difference for all of us.

4. Take Time to Know Your People. Life in the military is hectic, but
that's no excuse for not knowing the people you work for and with. For
years a hero walked among us at the Academy and we never knew it. Who
are the heroes that walk in your midst?

5. Anyone Can Be a Hero. Mr. Crawford certainly didn't fit anyone's
standard definition of a hero. Moreover, he was just a private on the
day he won his Medal. Don't sell your people short, for any one of them
may be the hero who rises to the occasion when duty calls. On the other
hand, its easy to turn to your proven performers when the chips are down,
but don't ignore the rest of the team. Today's rookie could and should
be tomorrows superstar.

6. Leaders Should Be Humble. Most modern day heroes and some leaders
are anything but humble, especially if you calibrate your hero meter on
today's athletic fields. End zone celebrations and self-aggrandizement
are what we've come to expect from sports greats. Not Mr. Crawford --- he
was too busy working to celebrate his past heroics. Leaders would be
well-served to do the same.

7. Life Won't Always Hand You What You Think You Deserve. We in the
military work hard and, dang it, we deserve recognition, right? However,
sometimes you just have to persevere, even when accolades don't come your
way. Perhaps you weren't nominated for junior officer or airman of the
quarter as you thought you should - don't let that stop you.

8. Don't Pursue Glory; Pursue Excellence. Private Bill Crawford didn't
pursue glory; he did his duty and then swept floors for a living. No
matter what task life hands you, do it well. Mr. Crawford modeled that
philosophy and helped make our dormitory area a home.

9. No Job is Beneath a Leader. If Bill Crawford, a Medal of Honor
winner, could clean latrines and smile, is there a job beneath your
dignity? Think about it.

10. Life is a Leadership Laboratory. All too often we look to some
school or PME class to teach us about leadership when, in fact, life is a
leadership laboratory. Those you meet everyday will teach you enduring
lessons if you just take time to stop, look and listen. I spent four
years at the Air Force Academy, took dozens of classes, read hundreds of
books, and met thousands of great people. I gleaned leadership skills
from all of them, but one of the people I remember most is Mr. Bill
Crawford and the lessons he unknowingly taught. Don't miss your
opportunity to learn. Bill Crawford was a janitor. However, he was also
a teacher, friend, role model and one great American hero.

Thanks, Mr. Crawford, for some valuable leadership lessons.
*****************************************
And now, for the rest of the story...

Pvt. William John Crawford was a platoon scout for 3rd Platoon of Company
L 142nd Regiment 36th Division (Texas National Guard) and won the Medal
Of Honor for his actions on Hill 424, just 4 days after the invasion at
Salerno.

You can read his citation at www.army.mil/cmh-pg/mohiia1.htm.

On Hill 424, Pvt. Crawford took out 3 enemy machine guns before darkness
fell, halting the platoons advance. Pvt. Crawford could not be found and
was assumed dead. The request for his MOH was quickly approved. MG Terry
Allen presented the posthumous MOH to Bill Crawford's father, George, on
11 May 1944 in Camp (now Fort) Carson, near Pueblo. Nearly two months
after that, it was learned that Pvt. Crawford was alive in a POW camp in
Germany. During his captivity, a German guard clubbed him with his rifle.
Bill overpowered him, took the rifle away, and beat the guard
unconscious. A German doctor's testimony saved him from severe
punishment, perhaps death. To stay ahead of the advancing Russian army,
the prisoners were marched 500 miles in 52 days in the middle of the
German winter, subsisting on one potato a day. An allied tank column
liberated the camp in the spring of 1945, and Pvt. Crawford took his
first hot shower in 18 months on VE Day. Pvt. Crawford stayed in the army
before retiring as a MSG and becoming a janitor.

"There are more men enabled by study than by nature." - Cicero
_________________
Aloha,
Al

Viet Nam 71/72
Persian Gulf 90/91

[wonhyo]

Thank you again Swifties for teaching me something every day. This is one site that I feel I need to read almost daily, if possible. You have given me a better history, character lesson than I ever learned in school. Keep teaching me and I will keep passing it on to my children, and grandchild, and to my husband. Forever in your debt!

[LewWaters]

Sadly, MSG. Crawford passed away in 2000 at the age of 81.

Something not mentioned in the email is that he was captured by the Germans and presumed dead. The medal was presented to his father and later to him by his father when he was liberated and returned home.

While at the Air Force Academy, he mentioned to a friend that he never received the Medal from the President. In 1984, President Ronald Reagan presented the Medal to him.

http://www.mishalov.com/Crawford.html