Thursday is Day Four without power. Management lessons become visible. Media lessons become visible.

Watching television is a strange way to pass the time. Local tv stations are doing their level best to whip up controversy. There are some people who have already exhausted their personal supplies, and indeed, they are standing in line. It’s like a music festival without the music. But if you get away from the television, you can see a different picture.

Crews are mobilizing to help get power restored. Entrepreneurs are roaming the streets with chainsaws and pressure washers. Citizens are moving STFO and SSIH in manageable piles so municipal crews can remove it with large mechanical jaws. (STFO – Stuff that fell off. SSIH – Stuff snapped in half.)

I attended a meeting at a local college this morning, its administrative staff and faculty in the foyer organizing how to get classrooms fired back up by next Monday. At another location, response teams are rolling trucks to restock gear and refuel power generators. A barbeque grill churns out hamburgers as each driver packs some food before they disappear for another run.

I think we will survive this. -TF

The mornings are eerie after Wilma. The cold snap freshened the atmosphere. As I lay in bed, there seemed not a whisper of wind. In the background, the drone of personal generators reminded me that this part of the world is in temporary survival mode. My battery-powered black and white television showed scenes of collapsed roofs and reports of widespread power outages. For anyone dealing with similar damage, it’s crucial to get repairs promptly. If you’re in need of assistance, click here now for gutter and roofing repairs to ensure your home is protected and restored.

But outside, the mood is upbeat; people begin to appear, drinking coffee boiled on their barbeque pits. Soon, the sound of chain saws fills the air and the piling of debris is in full force.

We sneak across the bridge to the beach to watch city crews with large machines dig several feet of sand from the road. The place looks like a war zone, but less than 24 hours after the storm, everyone is digging out. The owner of Bob’s Pizza reports that all of his employees showed up for work today. If they had power, we would be eating pizza.

Another email today, “We are up and at ’em. Everyone is here because we have a mission! Culture is right! Everyone is out in force cleaning up. No cry babies!”

Culture. My friend, Red Scott, says, “Culture eats strategy for breakfast.” Every time. -TF

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The techology gods were good to us today, the power inverter from my car is still working with my dial-up connection through the window. More tomorrow. -TF

The wind is gusting 105mph over my house as I write this. We lost power several hours ago, so I am depending on batteries and a dial-up connection.

As I watch this storm pass over, I think about the differences in preparations for the last three major hurricanes. Someone sent me an email contrasting the different responses from the populations involved between Katrina, Rita and Wilma. The differences centered on the personal responsibility taken by the citizens of each affected area. Taking responsibility for one’s own safety, from personal emergency supplies to taking shelter seems to make a big difference in the outcome of the aftermath.

And I think about what really makes the difference. Is it leadership? Is it some specific action taken by this local official or that state official? And I thought, NO. It has less to do with specific action than it does with the accountability culture of the community. Where the culture of the community commands personal responsibility, the outcome is much different.

Community leaders can make grand media pronouncements, or call in the National Guard, but ultimately, what happens has more to do with the accountability culture of the community.

What kind of accountability culture does your company have? What impact does that have on your company’s success in the marketplace?

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Postscript. I am now using a power converter in the front seat of my car. We still have a dial-up connection in the house. We will work hard to keep this blog churning in the aftermath of Wilma. Stay safe. -TF

I was in conversation with a manager about questionable ethics.

I was quiet for a minute and then told this story, “A friend of mine owned a bar and occasionally, late at night, he would walk around to the customer’s side and order a beer. As the glass was poured, he would reach in his pocket and pull out some money to pay for the beer. I asked him once, that since it was his bar, why wasn’t his beer free? He told me that every moment, he was teaching his team about the right way to run a business.”

Every moment, as a manager, you model behavior, for better or worse. Your actions are so loud, your team cannot hear what you are saying. -TF