And no, I don’t mean a patent battle, although I’m certain they have both won and lost their fair share. What I mean is this:
Early in my career, I was an IT Consultant for Shell Chemical Company at their Deer Park location. Since moving to Houston at the age of almost 12, I had been best friends with a girl whose Dad worked at Shell. My first week on that job, the boss was walking me to the trailer where I would sit, smack in the middle of the OP-II revamp project, when I happened to mention that “my friend’s Dad worked for Shell.”
He asked me who it was and I replied “Jake Jacobson.” He stopped in his tracks and said “…the Jake Jacobson? The one who built the Coker plant?”
Indeed. That Jake Jacobson.
I can still hear the whispers of one of the engineers after I walked by her office in the South Admin building, later in my tenure at the plant. “Be careful with that one, she knows Jake.” she said. First of all, if I had a nickel for every time someone started a sentence about me with “be careful with that one”, I’d be on the Emerald Coast by now, soaking up the sun and smelling like coconut and salt air. Regardless, I never once traded on that relationship, but must admit it was really cool that Mr. Jacobson, as I of course called him, was so well-respected that to know him was to be afforded that same respect by association.
Jake passed away a week ago, as I write this on Sunday night. He died a scant three weeks and four days after his beloved wife of 65 years. I grew up with Mr. and Mrs. Jacobson a constant in my life by way of Amy, and learned a lot about how to conduct myself in day to day life and business from them. Mr. Jacobson was a strong leader, and quite fearsome as a Dad. I know Amy and I never crossed him…we wouldn’t dare. I’m sure he’s learned by now that Amy did in fact ditch her car in a culvert on Grant Road driving back from my house our Junior year of High School. Those scratches were not from the rose bushes along the driveway like she told you and I corroborated…sorry Mr. Jacobson. Amy swore me to secrecy and I would never rat her out!
While he may have been a titan in the industry and at Shell, and a Very Scary Daddy, he was also a kind and gentle soul who was the only one who could calm my screaming 18 month old when we went to visit their home in Colorado. He pulled my fussy kid right onto his lap at dawn, let him wear his baseball cap, and sat there and entertained him long enough to give the whole house a break from his fussing. That’s a good man right there.
His obituary is here, and if you want to know what an industry leader and good man looks like, it’s worth a read. I consider the advice he gave me and the respect I got just for having known him to be an important part of my career path. I never did end up working directly for Shell, but the almost two years that I spent there meant a lot to me. So did Mr. Jacobson.
Thank you, Sir, for all of the business advice you gave me when I was starting all the companies. Thank you for not laughing when I later told you I was going to take down patent trolls. Thank you most of all for loving your daughter and showing her what friendship means, because I’ve benefited greatly from that.
Rest in peace, Mr. Jacobson. You’re a true example of Psalm 103:17.
With love,
Steph