THE EXTRAORDINARY GRENFELL KISSOON

GRENFELL Kissoon was one of the hostages at Maraval Road during the 1990 bloody insurrection.

When the dust cleared, Kissoon took two days off and then returned to his office.

“I didn’t need any more time than that,” he once told me.

It was a measure of the man – gritty, focused, and committed.

Some detainees were derailed and traumatised for the remainder of their lives.

For Grenfell, it was a blip in a lengthy and illustrious career, in which he managed change in the sugar cane industry, and in both the State and private sector media business.

In the final two decades, he was a principal human resource, corporate professional and inside man at the top floor of the AnsaMcAl conglomerate.

Executive Chairman Norman Sabga said that Kissoon gave “wise counsel in all matters dealing with group governance, investments and shareholder returns,” which were “relied upon and highly valued.”

Grenfell led the State electronic media house to its best-ever financial results, and successfully oversaw the merging of the television and radio units, in the process smoothening two raw cultures.

To my eternal gratitude, he returned as chairman – while I was chief executive – to provide a steady hand, improve the human resource component, and inspire a new organisational culture.

But the feather in his cap was his landmark work at St. Vincent Street, where he twinned newspaper with radio and then launched television.

He remained cool as a cucumber in a competitive industry with feisty workers by being the respected thought and business leader.

He had sound judgement on matters ranging from the boardroom to the newsroom, coupling his advice with anecdotes and dry humour.

A relaxed session with Grenfell (a single beer was his limit!) was worth more than a month in a classroom.

He blended HR ground rules with working-class yarns from his extensive and varied career.

Kissoon was one of the Caribbean’s finest human resources experts, with an affinity for growing talent and enhancing bottom lines.

He called it “the people factor.”

He was clear about his mission – improve things or shut down the company.

He invested in people, had a patient ear, and demanded results.

When I called some months ago to thank him for his faith in me (he had me involved in the three arms of the Guardian group), he had a request.

Would I edit his just-written manual on human resources?

It was a labour of love.

The result was “The People Factor in Enterprise Management,” a thorough guide to motivating workers and achieving the best-ever results.

It was the last period in which I would exchange with him.

I will sorely miss his sweeping professional wisdom, fatherly style and amiable demeanour.

Grenfell Kissoon was an extraordinary contributor to modern Trinidad and Tobago.