The Elevator Man

Eight hours a day, five days a week, for forty-one years he had pushed those buttons upon command. His place of employment - The Jansson Grande Hotel in New York City. It was one of those hotels that had five stars for everything; suites, service, food, entertainment. Quite simply, it was the "best of the best."

Nevertheless, no one ever seemed to pay much attention to the little man who operated the elevator, the main one located just off the lobby. Occasionally he was even mocked or laughed at. Few ever spoke to him with respect, or treated him with dignity. From the time he was a child he was viewed as someone undesirable, someone that you would and should avoid. He was smallish in size, nervous around people and quiet as a mouse. He never looked anyone in the eye, always kept his cast to the ground, even when spoken to.

His daily routine never changed. At exactly six o'clock in the morning he would rise, fix the usual breakfast of one poached egg, a slice of toast with marmalade, and black coffee. He would then shower, comb his hair, brush his teeth, and prepare his lunch, which too was always the same; a bologna sandwich, one Oreo cookie, and a can of RC cola. Lastly he would put his uniform on, pressed neatly the night before, and off he would go. He always arrived at work one hour early, at exactly seven. He would sit in a little office near the lobby and read the daily news until it was time to report to his station. Always the same, every day.

For forty-one years he endured the stares, the rude remarks, the indifference that came with his job. But the problem wasn't the job, really. It was him. It just seemed that nobody liked the little man who ran the elevator, not even his co-workers. He was often the subject of ridicule during break times. Yet he never let his feelings show, never lashed back, never shed a single tear. Very simply, he endured.

There was a candy stand located one block from the hotel that was attended by a ten year old little girl. Her parents were quite poor and she had six siblings younger than herself for her stay-at-home mother to care for. Her father held a low paying job as a bellhop at a competing hotel. Every day after school the little girl, who's name was Shelly, could be seen selling chocolates that her mother had prepared the night before after all of the children had gone off to bed. Daily she would observe the odd elevator man as he hobbled home from work and it touched her heart that no one ever seemed to show him any human decency. She watched with eyes of sadness as people in a hurry would push past him abruptly, or yell at him to speed up his pace, or to just to get out of the way altogether!

One day, as the tiny man neared her stand on his way home, she grabbed a chocolate, the best looking one, and walked straight up to him and handed it to him. He accepted her kind gift, never once glancing her way, and then hurried off. From that day on Shelly would repeat this same routine, and the elevator man always accepted her gift. He never spoke, though she tried many times to engage him in conversation. Never once did he look her in the eye or even thank her.

One day, as she anxiously awaited the always-on-time arrival of the elevator man, he never came. This went on for three days. She wept at night wondering what might have happened to him, as he had become a very important part of her life. She told her mother all about her daily encounters with the man. Her mother shed a tear as she contemplated what a beautiful act of kindness her child had performed in behalf of another human being. It was decided that they would visit the hotel on the very next day to inquire as to his well-being.

As they entered the busy hotel, Shelly ran over to the lobby elevator and peeked in. There stood a tall, young, handsome stranger with the standard uniform on. He asked her if he could be of service. Her mother now joined them as the man explained that the former elevator operator had died earlier in the week. He explained that there would be no funeral, as he had no family that anyone knew of, but that there would be calling hours at the funeral home just down the street later that evening. He then chuckled that it was unlikely that anyone would attend.

That evening, Shelly and her mother went to the funeral home at the scheduled time, and to their sad surprise, the new elevator man was right - no one came! They sat for an hour waiting for others, but to no avail. Finally, Shelly got up the courage to walk up to the open casket. She blew a little kiss toward the dead man and whispered: "I love you." Both she and her mother left in tears, as the director showed them out. A few days later they visited the grave and, as she had never learned his name, she squinted her eyes to read the name on the small headstone. It read: Here lies Herbert T. Jansson.

A week went by as the normal, mundane routine of life slowly began to ease her pain when suddenly, and quite dramatically, things changed. A letter arrived by post, an invitation really, for the parents of Shelly Brown to attend a reading of the will of a certain Herbert T. Jansson. All were quite perplexed as to what this meeting would purport to be. The following Monday Shelly arrived with her parents at the attorney's office. As the kindly gentleman arranged for them to be comfortable, Shelly's heart raced with nervous anticipation. What did all of this mean? What the attorney had to say left them utterly shocked: Shelly Brown, operator of the little candy stand at the corner of Seventh and Main, was to inherit all of Mr. Jansson's estate.

"You see," he explained, "Herbert was the estranged brother of the owner of the hotel, Mr. Thomas L. Jansson, and was one-third owner, though he always insisted that no one ever be told! He was happy to work the elevator, serving the patrons of his brother's enterprise. The appraised amount of his estate is 7.2 million dollars, and all of it, Shelly Brown, is now yours to share with your family or with whomever you please. Mr. Jansson left this note and instructed that I read it to you in the event of his death. It reads as follows:

'To the little girl who runs the candy stand near my place of employment:

Please know this, that in a world where people treat one another with apathy and indifference, where cold hearts so often prevail, where common courtesy is so often not extended to those considered to be on the periphery, you stand out as different! Though I never expressed it, your kindness to me was always appreciated, and I ate every one of those delicious chocolates as soon as I got in the door of my humble apartment. I hope you never change. The world needs future leaders like you.'

Signed: Herbert T. Jansson"

Needless to say all were in tears, including the attorney, and as they said their goodbyes the man handed Shelly Brown's father a check in the amount of 7.2 million. Her father dutifully promised to put the bulk of it in a trust fund until she turned twenty-one, at which point she would be free to do with it whatever she pleased.

At twenty-one years old, Shelly Brown established the Herbert T. Jansson foundation, designed to promote understanding and acceptance of people that society so often deems to be "on the periphery."