Memories of the Phoenix Building from Sally

When it was finally confirmed that we were moving, the first thought that came to mind was that I needed to go out and walk these streets around our building as much as I could before we move. Our new digs in Walker's Point are going to be awesome, but I have always loved that our office is located in Milwaukee's Third Ward. Driving to work from my house in Bay View, I get to glimpse Lake Michigan, cross a bridge over the Milwaukee River, and weave through the old brick warehouses, and new construction too, that is, to my mind, the most "alive" part of our city. Crossing under the sign that reads Historic Third Ward always makes me feel lucky. The neighborhood features the Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design, shops like Anthropologie and West Elm, the Milwaukee Public Market, and more coffee shops than we truly need. Over the years, the Third Ward has changed, and some of my memories happened in places that are now gone. I remember Roy and Scott going over to the Broadway Bar and Grill on Broadway that offered $1 hamburgers after lunch, and I remember their grilled cheese with tomato as life changing. I remember the La Boulangerie's cinnamon rolls, and when [former 800-CEO-READ employees] John and Janice took me over there to offer me my first promotion.

As for this office, I've worked here nearly 20 years, so the memories are too many to count. But the early days, when our offices (called "the bullpen") and warehouse were one in the same, stick with me: I remember what I wore to my interview with [former Vice President] John Decker and his assurance that I could stay after hours to use the computers to write my novel (that remains unfinished, as does Roy's, whom he gave as an example of the artists we had working in the office); when, on my first day, I met [our founder and president, now retired] Jack Covert and he asked me if I swore, because that was the true test of being an employee here—little did I know that that question, as odd as it seemed, was representative of the comfortable culture we still value; the symphony of sea foam green that was our earliest decor, and the relief of finally being profitable enough to justify the expense of painting and recarpeting it; "stinky lunch" when our microwave was in the middle of the room and Jack was on a diet of microwave dinners; the boom box in the shipping area that we shared, and how sick to death we got with Roy's techno music, [former employee] Scott's show tunes (Linda Eder particularly) and Ryan's Dixie Chicks and Billy Joel; the first time we had a website, the first time we changed names, the first time we all got laptops, the first time we heard the name Amazon.

Luckily the best part of working in this office—the people who remain—moves to the new place with me where we will make new memories, but still, there are other firsts that won't be replicated. I remember baby showers, and birthday lunches, and holiday potlucks, Jack's retirement party, and the cocktail party we held for authors attending our Pow Wow. I remember Shawn bringing his dog Mac to work when he was a puppy and that we kept him in the back in our supply room, with someone assigned to play with him every hour. I remember when Roy first brought his mother and brother, of whom we'd heard so many tall and true tales, to visit the office. And I can picture my new baby sitting on Dylan's lap, being held by Meg, and now that Noah is older, giving Aaron a high-five and holding onto Roy's hand.