Are You Tired of Voice Mail Hell?

Have you become convinced that endless automated phone systems are one of Dante's Nine Circles of Hell and that actual customer service provided by a human being died sometime in the 1990s?

Yesterday, I discovered a website designed around the radical premise of connecting people with people when calling for customer service.

Now I haven't actually tried any of the phone numbers listed on the site, but I've spent some time searching the site and am pleasantly surprised at how much information is available, complete with reviews, average wait times, and other short cuts.

The next time I have to call a company to hook up cable, turn on electricity, handle a mobile phone problem, or even put a vacation stop on my newspaper, I'll be visiting GetHuman.com.

Try it and let me know what you think.

My Cab Driver Bill

I have mentioned him before, but I have never blogged about him.

I met Bill a few years ago when I called for a taxi to the airport. He arrived in a brand new black Dodge Magnum that was sparkling clean on the inside. We talked all the way to O'Hare and I learned that he primarily worked for himself, but sometimes did some extra work for the cab company when they were really busy. As we drove, Bill's cell phone kept ringing with people calling for his personal livery services, many of them days out. From the little bit I could hear, each call was from a regular customer Bill knew well.

Since that first trip to O'Hare, I've never used another cab service. Most times he takes me to O'Hare, it's a cheerful trip, but he has also seen me on some of my most difficult days. Last summer, he drove me to O'Hare when I was flying to Florida for Nana's funeral and then each of my trips in August and September to help my mom. Those were really difficult trips for me, but Bill made them just a little bit better with his cheerfulness and just listening as I shared stories of my Nana with him. Being in his car feels like riding with a good friend.

In fact, that's how Bill perceives his job. He's a retired police officer, although I can't remember where now, and he told me when we first met that he loves his career now because he hangs out with friends all day as he drives them around. How can you not love that attitude?

On the way to O'Hare in August, I shared a story of how Nana received a box of chocolates at her retirement. The chocolates were nothing extraordinary, probably just a box of Whitman's Sampler, but I'll never forget the way Nana held that box like it was the Ark of the Covenant or some other treasure as she looked the man who gave it to her square in the eye and with sincerity and excitement said to him, "Oh! A box of fine chocolates! This is JUST what I've wanted!" She had this way of making you feel like $10 million. A few minutes later, we pulled into O'Hare and Bill opened up the glove compartment and handed me an envelope. Inside was a dark chocolate candy bar with the most fancy wrapping. I just looked at him with tears rolling down my face and made Nana's words my own. I don't know if the chocolate was high quality or not and it doesn't matter. That night, when I had a moment of peace to myself after the first of many difficult days, I unwrapped that bar and bit into what was the most incredible piece of chocolate I will ever have in my life.

Bill sends a quarterly newsletter to all of his clients. I look forward to these mailings because they are always uplifting and always hand addressed (who does that still?). The winter letter just arrived and on the outside, was written "The Wonderful Jessica Gardner." In a strange twist of fate this morning, I received a bunch of personal mail (as opposed to bills). Guess which envelope got opened first?

This is Bill's winter letter.

PRICELESS GIFTS
by Bill Hammers

My fall letter this year contained a true story told through the eyes of a cab driver. My winter letter is also a true story of mine that I thought you might enjoy.

Exiting our apartment one day I noticed our neighbor, Jean from across the hall, at the same time, about to pass me by with her garbage to deposit in the garbage room. She appeared to be in her late 70's, very frail looking with a scowl on her face.

Our eyes met, I smiled and said, "I'll let you by if you smile." Her eyes squinted, her mouth became smaller and she forced a half smile dismissing me as she passed by. As she went by I said, "next time it's a hug I'll want!" I remembered all the while other neighbors in the building telling me that this particular lady was "...an old crab...," and they didn't want to bother with her.

Our next encounter was on our elevator. I mentioned to Jean that frequently Kathy (my wife) and I dine out, and we'd be glad to bring something back for her if she'd like. Cautiously, she said, "yes...that would be nice."

So the ritual began - dinner in a Styrofoam container, a knock on her door followed by the container being left by her door, me running back to our apartment before she opened her door.

When Kathy cooked for us, she'd always make extra and we'd leave Jean her "surprise" package covered with foil at her door followed by the "knock" and retreat.

Weeks later Jean called and invited us to her apartment for a glass of wine. We were delighted. Her place was furnished in what appeared to be very rich looking painting and furniture. We sat down and she began telling us her story. She explained that at this time in her life she no longer had any relatives or friends left. She then proceeded to tell us that she knew she didn't have a lot of time left. After about a half-hour of small talk Jean said, "I was once invited out on a date and had a dress made for it, but he stood me up and I never wore it again." As she spoke she kept looking downward shaking her head. Jean then looked up, smiled and said to my wife, "Kathy, I'd like you to have this dress." Stunned, my wife accepted as we both started tearing up.

Jean then asked me if I'd be able to take her to the hospital when her emphysema flared up, because, she stated "...the paramedics hurt me trying to life me onto the stretcher..." Over the following years, I did take hero n a number of occasions.

During those years, Jean would call Kathy over to her apartment and give her dolls she had from Macy's that were never even out of their boxes because she knew we had granddaughters.

Months later, our phone rang very late at night. My wife answered and handed the phone to me saying it was Jean and she wanted to talk to me. Jean explained, "Bill, I'm not going to make it through the night and I'm afraid to die alone!"

We talked about almost anything and everything that popped into our minds. Nothing profound mind you, just talked.

The next few days I tried to get information from the hospital about how Jean was doing, but because I wasn't a relative, none was given to me. Finally, I was lucky to speak with someone who, after I explained how I knew Jean, told me she had passed away two nights before.

Weeks later walking back from Jewel across from our apartment, another neighbor from our building also stopped by the red light, and questioned me about Jean and if I had talked to her prior to her passing. I explained we did, Jean was a very private person unlike how she was perceived by most. I went on to say that another neighbor in our building asked me about our relationship with jean and hinted as to what, if anything, Jean had left us. I explained both Kathy and I had several conversations with Jean and Kathy was given a brand new dress over 25 years old, and I, well I received her last phone call.

Jean, wherever you are, thank you for your "crabby" old smile at our first encounter; you taught both Kathy and I what priceless gifts are really all about - God Bless You!

--------------------
I could tell you many more Bill stories, but we'd be here all day. Suffice it to say, I think the world of him.

If you need cab service and want to feel like you're riding with family, call Bill. You won't have a better ride to O'Hare. He's not the cheapest, but his rates are very competitive and for the service he provides, it's a steal. Oh, and he lives in downtown Arlington Heights, so when you use his service, you're keeping your money local by supporting a small business in our community.

Bill Hammers
Time Bandit Taxi/Limo
847-420-6664

Oh, and tell him I referred you. It's the least I can do for all he's done for me. He's not just my cab driver. Bill is my friend.

Customer Service Then and Now

Anyone who deals with the public is in customer service. I don't care if the position is janitor. If someone deals with the public, then they are in customer service. And even if their position doesn't explicitly deal with the public, but they happen to run into a customer of their company, they are now in customer service.

Nana worked in customer service for 40 years for what is now Bank of America (it started as Ellis National bank, then it became NCNB, then NationsBank and now it's Bank of America). She started out as a teller and through hard work over the years, she was promoted to Vice President of the Tarpon Springs, FL branch. Every step of the way, she dealt with the public. And every single day, she loved helping her customers. Whether it was helping a customer buy a $50 savings bond, open a checking account, or helping them with bigger issues, she loved helping people. She believed it was an honor to be able to serve people and knowing her the way I did, I can say with absolute certainty that she never once uttered the words "it's not my job."

One time, an elderly woman Nana had known for many years came into the bank with a man wanting to empty out her account in cash. Nana was with another customer, but overheard the woman telling another employee of her desire. Not recognizing the man and knowing the woman's family well , Nana called the other employee over and told her to stall the woman until Nana was finished with her customer. When Nana finished helping the first customer, she called the son of the elderly woman to make sure this was legitimate. It turned out the woman was being scammed by someone with less than scrupulous desires and because of Nana's intervention this was prevented.

I remember another incident a few months after she retired. The phone rang one day and it was her former boss. It seemed that he had a rather prominent (read: wealthy) customer in front of him who was upset with something the bank had done and was prepared to withdraw all his funds from the bank. The bank manager apologized for the error and tried in vain to talk the customer down. Finally, he asked the customer if there was anything he could do to keep his business. The customer responded that the only person who could convince him that this wouldn't happen again was Frances Paulk, even though she had nothing to do with the problem he was experiencing with the bank. Nana was only asked to speak to the customer on the phone, but she had known him for years and so she got in the car and drove to the bank to meet with him and reassure him that the issue would be resolved in his favor and would never happen again. Nana kept this man's accounts with the bank.

Her outstanding customer service was rewarded many times over; she won many awards from the bank for her superior service and even won the "Courtesy Award" given by the Tarpon Springs Chamber of Commerce. Customers waited in line to be helped by Nana even when other bank employees were available and could assist them. She had customers who were loyal to her for all of those 40 years. On her last day at NationsBank, customers showered her with flowers and gifts to thank her for all that she had done for them over the years. They came in person to thank her for her service and to tell her how much she had helped them. If they couldn't come in person, they sent letters and cards. In fact, there are two drawers full of letters from customers (or their family members) written over 40 years thanking her for her service to them and the way she especially helped to protect her elderly customers.

At her visitation and funeral in July, I can't begin to count the people who came up to me with stories of how Nana had helped them and shown them how to balance their checkbook or explained the benefits of CDs over a passbook savings account to give them the best interest rate. Her service was based on a selfless desire to help others be their best. Of course, she also worked during a time when her paycheck wasn't based on how many CDs she sold or how much she "up sold" people, so they always knew that whatever she told them was in their best interest and had nothing to do with her own best interest.

Contrast that to the customer service of today.

Mom and I had to visit a large national bank today. While we were waiting for assistance, a woman who appeared to be in her late-60s or so asked the bank manager if this bank had passbook savings accounts. He said no. She then volunteered that a local community bank did. He again replied that they didn't have them. She said she understood, but that she wanted a passbook savings account (you remember the "old fashioned" kind where you had a book like a checkbook register and the bank would imprint your activity in it every time you came to the bank) and would be switching to their smaller competitor for this service. The manager's only response was okay. He did not attempt to help the woman who was clearly a customer with services the bank offered or even ask her questions about her perceived benefits of a passbook savings account. He simply said okay and let the woman and her business walk out the door.

I wish we could get back to a time when companies cared about their customers and not just about the money they could bring in. When a verbal commitment meant action would be taken or that a promise was sealed. When businesses valued their customers and would not be so willing to just let them walk out the door unhappy.

What I know for sure is that when Nana first went to work in the banking industry, her bank was a small community bank because that's all that existed in 1954. Up until the late-1990s, her bank had that community feel, even though they were nationwide. Or maybe it was just my perception because I could pick up the phone and call any branch, say I was her granddaughter and have the red carpet rolled out for me.

I think that the solution for this problem is simple: Patronize only locally-owned, small businesses whenever possible. Reward businesses that provide superior customer service with more business. Say thank you for outstanding service. Go up the chain of command and not only thank the employee, but praise that person to his or her manager.

As for myself, as a business owner, I am committing myself to upping my own customer service and loyalty to my customers in 2010.

Nana Was Always #1 in Customer Service

Originally posted on Remembering Frances.

For the 40 years Nana worked at Ellis National Bank, which later became NCNB, and finally NationsBank (and today is known as Bank of America, but she retired from NationsBank), she was always recognized for her outstanding customer service abilities. The day of her retirement in 1996 (on her 80th birthday!), customers came in to say good-bye who had been her customers for 40 years. Even after her retirement, those customers would call her at home and ask her questions because they knew that she would always tell them what was best for them and not just what was best for the bank. She treated everyone the same, whether they had $50 or $5,000,000. Wealth didn't matter to Nana. What mattered was that every customer she served felt important and valued. Nana also knew how to keep matters confidential. Her customers knew that when they told her their personal financial information, she was going to hold that information in the strictest confidence.

Needless to say, anyone in type of sales or customer service position could learn a thing or two from the way she treated her customers. And NCNB knew it, which is why when they created training videos, they always featured Nana.