So, you want stories, is it?
BTI was an unusual Silicon Valley computer factory, given the diversity of its workforce. Not all of us were graduates of the Stanford school of Engineering. Many came from the military.
I was unusual in that my degree was in broadcast journalism. (My formal cyber-education came from the Contra Costa and DeAnza Community Colleges.) I'd worked as a reporter and news director for several radio stations back east. So, even though I was engaged in a totally different career in California, I continued to write letters and keep a journal. My work on "Uptime" was valuable practice.
After I gave my notice at Basic Timeshare Inc., I was re-assigned to an empty conference room as far away from everyone else as possible, and stripped of all duties. I suppose this was management's effort to throw me in jail for treason, or at least to stop the spread of defections to Pyramid, Tandem, and the rest. But they didn't take my login, and I did have an active terminal to play with. I passed the time by writing about how I departed BTI, and what was going on there at the time.
Years later, I wrote a book on WiFi networking for McGraw-Hill under similar circumstances. I'd been reassigned to the back room of my house and stripped of duties, laid off suddenly after twenty years at Verizon, and desperate for something to do. History doesn't repeat itself, but often it rhymes.
I found the BTI farewell two weeks ago while digging through plastic tubs in search of ancient photos. I won't send it to you verbatim. After so many years, I tend to see BTI through a nostalgic haze, and I'll bet the other guys do also. It was a great adventure for me to be sure, but at the time I wrote my swan song I was plagued with self-doubt, understandably bitter, frustrated, and disappointed. I suppose I'd expected to retire from the place as a millionaire. I've regained my sense of humor since then, and so I prefer to keep the whiny rants to myself. I'll send the other parts along as I can.
Click on any of the pictures below to get a full sized view.
Ray Smith, circa 1985
While stowing holiday decorations, I came across a box of old letters, which included these two items.
The first is pretty obvious. Unfortunately, we did not wind up selling 8000's in a "big way".
High hopes for the 8000, January, 11, 1985
The second shot is graveyard humor. The gentleman pictured shared some rented office space with me and a half-dozen others about a mile from the main BTI building on Maud. I don't remember his name, unfortunately. He served at nearby NAS Moffett on an Orion sub-hunter when he wasn't working in the education department and/or studying for a degree from the University of Phoenix.
After the Bank of America took over the Company for a loan default, the bank ordered many changes. One was a series of layoffs that cut the staff in half and then some. Another was that expenditures for rental room were stopped. This meant that those of us who didn't get the axe were called back in to fill the empty spaces at headquarters.
I found out about all this when I returned after my vacation to find the doors on the rental space locked, and the remaining office furniture piled in the back. After I learned that I'd been passed over, we returned to clean out our desks. Before locking up for the last time, we took a few moments to stage this photo.
The caption was: "Well, Mom, there have been a few layoffs here lately..."
Well, Mom, there have been a few layoffs here lately...