When I was an intern at a certain consultancy firm about two years ago, I got my first exposure to a real-world project and its workings. And with it, came a project manager, of course. Howard Williams. I liked him. I liked his no-nonsense hands-on approach and his dry English sense of humour. I was especially moved by his unending belief that we could all do much better, and it showed in my work, his drive and persistence to constantly improve rubbed off. One of the demonstrations for the project went awry: the response was dismal and the participants were as nonchalant as they come. We all felt bad about it. Any one who has done everything to make something work knows how biting this particular disappointment is. He was going to renew his visa, Howard was, and visit his Mum. He mentioned fondly how much he had missed having fish and chips with her . That was the last any one saw of him. I think about him and the whole incident occasionally and I get the distinct feeling he blamed himself for the outcome that day and this was his way of coping (by literally running). I have been tempted once or twice to track down him down and email him just to say hello, and to tell him, “Hey, guv, shit happens. Think nothing of it.” So, yeah, shit happens, even to the best of us. Think nothing of it.