By David Pinto

“Hi, What’s going on?”
There’s just one person in the chain drug industry whose opening in a phone conversation is so distinctive — and so personal.
Until now.
Jim Whitman, the heart and soul of the National Association of Chain Drug Stores and, by extension, of the entire chain drug community, is scheduled to retire sometime in May. Or, put another way, in just a month from now.
For the past 47 or 48 or 49 years, Whitman has unfailingly represented chain drug retailing in America. Through innumerable administrations and untold changes in the NACDS chairman’s role, he has been the constant in an often dramatically changing chain drug universe. Put another way, he has consistently been the industry’s go-to guy, the man who could, seemingly effortlessly, repair the broken part, rearrange the missing appointment, readdress the momentary grievance, smooth over the hurt feelings, whether real or imagined.
In short, for longer than most of us have been involved with the chain drug industry, Jim Whitman has been the indispensable figure, the irreplaceable leader, the main cog in the NACDS wheel, the wheel which in turn moved our industry forward.
Until now.
Whitman’s impending retirement, announced by the association last month, has been proceeding smoothly — until now. For several reasons. Jim and his wife Karen have been anticipating — indeed, welcoming — retirement for some little time. After all, they have each asked repeatedly, when is enough enough? Then, too, if the term “self-effacing” has any meaning outside a dictionary, that meaning is Jim Whitman. Moreover, when repeatedly questioned about NACDS’ future without him, Jim has unfailingly responded to the effect that “we can all be done without.”
That’s true — to a point. NACDS president and chief executive officer Steve Anderson has already put in place a structure to assume Whitman’s duties, while echoing the sentiments that even Whitman appears to believe: We can all be done without.
That’s true — to a point. Examined more closely, however, one reaches the inescapable conclusion that, in a larger sense, Whitman can never be replaced. It’s not just what he did, how often he did it, or how effectively he did it. Rather, it has been the unfailing presence of the man himself. How many times over these 48-plus years has someone arriving at an NACDS event asked a staffer: Is Whitman here? Or: When’s Whitman coming? Or: I need to see Whitman.
Likable as he has been, it’s not been his looks, charm, intelligence or personality that has continually attracted these comments. Rather, NACDS members have been looking for Whitman these 48-plus years for a more basic reason: They’ve needed something — something they knew that only Whitman could provide. And in this quest, they were never disappointed.
Not that Jim Whitman’s going away. Doubtless, he will remain a presence at future NACDS events — whether he wants to be or not. In this matter, Karen, who’s been the ideal helpmate for Jim for so many years, will have to understand — as she has unfailingly done over these many decades.
But if anyone truly believes that NACDS post-Whitman will not change, get real. It will never be the same. The universal hope in our industry, however, is that it will not change too much. It will survive — and, hopefully, thrive.
As for the editor penning these thoughts, he believes, rightly, that the organization will never be what it was — that, in truth, you can’t go home again.
So long, Jim. See you at the Annual Meeting — and at many meetings thereafter. •