Hiring for the CCSO allowed me to meet some very intelligent people. Some so smart that you had to make sure that all their furniture wasn't in one part of their attic. I'd worked with a guy like that on Marco, in the missile business. Waldo was brilliant . To a fault. His attic was chock-full of electronics knowledge. And not much else.
We worked shifts and more than once I encountered him in the parking lot, at shift change, with a confused look on his face. When asked the problem, he'd say, "Are we coming to work or going home?"
I liked to hire folks who were smarter than the average bear, but not too smart. One such, was recognized by his boss to be very bright and used to advantage. He was drafted to write for his boss--who was trying to make Captain--a Master's Thesis. His boss, and the college, were ecstatic with the results. Hell, I think his boss may've even read it.
Another blazing beacon I took on aboard--who we'll call Grundig--was a pure genius. He was hired to do some technical work that required way more brains than muscle. Grundig fit the profile. As an example, he subscribed to a technical journal that was written in six languages. Grundig could read them all!
We did have a problem during the hiring process--I couldn't get him to bring in a copy of his Master's Degree. He would stall and make excuses, but never deliver. I finally put it to him: "If you don't let me verify your degree, I'm not going to hire you."
Grundig delivered it the next day. I asked him why he'd been so reluctant to let me see it.
"I was a failure and didn't want you to know," he said.
"Looks good to me," I said, noting the grades were all "A's."
"There is one A-minus," he said. "I was trying to get an all "A" college record."
The dreadful secrets some of us lock in our closets.
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