Hammond Aerospace Case Study
She stood in the doorway of her new work pace, on the 33rd floor of the Hammond rower in downtown Los Angles, and took a deep breath. Seven o’clock on her first morning as CEO of Hammond Aerospace. Reface’s in one hand, Struck nonfat event latte in the other. It, kiddo, seen told nearest as seen exhaled, then resolutely strode over the threshold and across the antique, Jewel-toned Serape rug.
She remembered the moment, a couple of Knees ago, when the chairman of the board had solemnly ushered her in here.
He’d stood in awestruck silence, presumably to impress her with the majesty and grandeur of the Job they were courting her for. She’d been impressed, all right. But also secretly appalled. It was obscene: easily four times the size of her office at Boeing, where she’d run the largest division.
This wasn’t exactly her style. A peacocks plumage might impress the peahens, she liked to say, but it Nas also a flashing neon all-you-can-eat sign for predators. Floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides, Ninth dazzling panoramic views of Wilshire Boulevard. A private terrace where you could entertain visiting dignitaries.
Even a working fireplace with a slate hearth?what was that all about? It was all about the colossal ego of its former occupant, of course.
The legendary James Railings, the globe-trotting CEO-statesman Node single-handedly built a minor producer of airplane windshields into one of the world’s leading aerospace companies. Jim Railings had been a man of immense charisma and iron will, a hard-charging salesman who’d dominated Hammond Aerospace until the Hob’s cases, which are fictional, present common managerial dilemmas and offer concrete solutions from experts. Arvada business review October 2007 page 1 The COO’S private Investigation HUB C EASE S DUTY losses Finder :mom) is an award-winning writer of best-selling corporate thrillers such s Killer Instinct, Company Man, and Paranoia. This fictional case is a prequel to his latest novel, Power Play (SST. Martin’s press, 2007). Moment, one month ago, when he’d dropped dead from an aneurysm on the sixth hole at Pebble Beach.
Right in front of three lapin Airlines execs with whom he’d been negotiating a $5 billion order for thirty H-880 Cruisers, the company’s new wide-body passenger Jet.
Half an hour after they carried him away on a gurney, the shaken Japanese executives signed on the dotted line. Even in death, he seemed so present. His grandiose office had been preserved exactly as deed left it, a shrine to a cult of personality. Rhea still hadn’t taken down the photos on his ego wall: skiing with Prince Charles in Closers, sailing with Giant Senegal in the Adriatic, schmoozing with King Abdullah at the royal palace in Riyadh. The place still reeked of cigar smoke.
She had some serious redecorating to do. For starters, the humidor had to go. He vast black marble slab of a desk was uncluttered by a single object. Where is the telephone? She wondered. Didn’t the guy use a phone? She set her briefcase on the floor, then placed the almost-empty paper cup on the leaning surface of the desk.
It looked almost ironic there, like some Dampen Hirsh installation. Now she stood watching the early morning traffic, the Matchbox cars barely visible through the smog. She missed Chicago, didn’t much care for Los Angles, but she could get used to it. Good sushi here, she’d heard. Nat the hell have I gotten myself into? Cheryl wondered.
No doubt, leading Hammond Aerospace was the opportunity of a lifetime. But at the same time, she was acutely aware that not a few people in this building wouldn’t mind terribly if she tripped and fell off her private terrace and took a deader onto the asphalt of Wilshire Boulevard, 33 stories down. Not least a guy named Hank Boding, the head of Hammond commercial airplane division and the internal candidate for the Job she’d Just secured. Everyone here had thought he was shoo-in, himself included. ‘Good morning, Ms.
Dobbin. You’re in early. ” Startled, Cheryl turned around.
Her new executive administrative assistant, Jackie Terrible, stood in the doorway. She was a tall, regal Tirana-American Oman in her early fifties, wearing an elegant lavender suit and matching pumps. When the two women had first met a few days ago, lacked had seemed a bit stiff.
Excessively formal, maybe. But she’d been Jim Railing’s assistant for 18 years, which meant she’d be invaluable. ‘Oh, good morning, Jackie. Yeah, I like to get in before the phone starts ringing. And please?I’m Cheryl. ” lacked smiled with prim cordiality.
“Jim always arrived at nine on the dot, and I always get here by eight.
But I’ll make sure I’m in by seven from now on. ” ‘Oh, don’t be silly. Eight is fine. ” lacked nodded.
“Please let me know what I can do for you. ” For one thing, you can drop the Mrs.. Dangers act, Cheryl thought. “I’d like to call a meeting of my executive team this afternoon.
” I’ll send out the notifications. ” Jackie hesitated an instant, then said: “They’ll be?well, traditionally, executive team meetings are held on Tuesday mornings, Ms. Dobbin, but?” ‘Tomorrow’s fine,” Cheryl said. There’d be plenty of opportunities to break some china before the week was out. ‘May I get you a cappuccino?
Jim always liked a cappuccino, first thing. ” ‘No thanks.
” She indicated the paper cup defiling Jim Railing’s desk. “Eve had my hit of caffeine for the day. Too much makes me Jittery. ” ‘l see. Well, please let me know if there’s anything I can get you. ” Cheryl thought for a long moment and then aid, “Actually, Jackie, there is something.
Some information. ” ‘Of course. What would you like to know? ” ‘Let’s sit down for a moment. ” Cheryl Nailed over to the conference area and sat in a high-back black leather chair. Jackie perched at one end of a long black Chesterfield sofa and took out a pad.