By Melissa Silmore (TPR'85)

She's 28 years old, living in Jacksonville, Fla., barely two years. She came to CSX headquarters from Orlando, leaving family and friends behind to make her first "big deal" move away from home. She was the first in her family, one of five siblings, to graduate from college-let alone earn a master's degree. Her job with the railroad company's human resources department is entry level, but she knows it's a great opportunity and was delighted when her supervisor nominated her for the company's mentoring program, the Associate Development Program, or ADP. It was even more thrilling to learn she was accepted, especially with just 16 coveted openings at the home office, where more than 2,200 are employed.

With the program kicking off this weekend, LaTisha Thompson wonders who will be her mentor. The corporation's head of diversity and ADP leader, Susan Hamilton, peeks in Thompson's cubicle and deadpans in her Southern drawl, "You know, I can't tell you who your mentor is, but we found a great person." Before scooting down the hall, she adds, "Oh ... and his initials are D.W.S."

Thompson quickly pulls up the office directory on her computer. Whizzing through the S's, she finds a name matching the initials: Derrick W. Smith. Wait! Smith is one of the few senior executives coaching, and the designer of the program itself. She speeds into Hamilton's office. "Is it Derrick Smith?" she blurts out. "Yes," Hamilton says, chuckling loudly, "and he's going to be fabulous for you." Thompson can't figure out whether she's more excited or anxious. "I was thrilled," she remembers, "but couldn't help thinking, 'Oh, wow! Someone at his level in the company is going to be mentoring me?'"

Days later, she's at the company's conference lodge in the woods, 90 minutes from Jacksonville. ADP kickoff is a big event, two days full of activities. The first morning is filled with introductory presentations; she has yet to meet Smith. In fact, she doesn't know much about him, other than his reputation as a key leader in a company employing more than 34,000 internationally.

Thompson knows the basics: Smith started with the company in Baltimore, Md., where he helped design and launch ADP, and then he moved to Jacksonville, bringing the program with him. He built his career in sales and marketing and is now vice president of emerging markets-a sizeable and influential division creating new business opportunities for the 200-year-old railroad, a Fortune 500 company with more than $9 billion in revenues.

She knows ADP is run in seven CSX locations, with more than 100 screened participants each year. The program has been going strong for the past 20 years, a corporate rarity, and boasts an active alumni association. Not surprisingly, it has been benchmarked by other organizations, has been profiled in magazines, and is viewed by the CEO, Michael Ward, as one of the key differentiators of CSX itself. Hamilton, now with the company 33 years, says simply, "It's a legacy for Derrick." She adds, "We have a [high] promotion rate for participants. ... We are developing the cream of the crop. A significant number have attained the director level," or the top 2% at CSX.
What Thompson doesn't know is how much this program means to Smith and how much came before it. He graduated from Carnegie Mellon University with a civil engineering and public policy degree and went on to earn an MBA from Columbia University. He still credits Carnegie Mellon's "rigorous engineering training" with preparing him for the intense pace-physically and intellectually-of the business world.

After grad school, Smith stayed in the New York area, where he met his wife. But the young couple soon began mulling over where they wanted to settle permanently. Smith applied to a Wall Street Journal ad, primarily for its post office box in Atlanta, Ga., a city he and his wife thought would be ideal for raising a family. The position turned out to be with CSX in Baltimore. The management job in the market research department had supervisory responsibilities, and Smith had family near Baltimore, so he and his wife decided to take the plunge. During the next seven years, the Smiths built a home, had two sons, and became involved in the community.

A few promotions later, Smith-along with regular job responsibilities-was assigned to a task force examining the status of the company's minority employees. He was surprised to discover a company-wide issue: CSX had loyal employees, many with the company for decades, but few had significant promotions. "There was concern that some of the good old boys were the most favored and were somehow getting opportunities for development and promotion," explains Smith. "I looked at this [task force] as an opportunity to try to help level the playing field." He saw that other corporations were running what they called coaching programs, but they were geared toward indoctrinating junior new hires. Smith worked with a former colleague to develop a unique, highly structured mentoring program for all-both union and management-pairing associates and coaches from varying levels. CSX's ADP was born.

Life in Baltimore sped by in a contented blur. Then came the news. A corporate reorganization moved Smith's position to Jacksonville. The Smiths weren't eager to leave. He even went so far as to explore other local job opportunities, but none had the same responsibility or potential. Reluctantly, he and his family made the move. The ADP program followed him south.

Ten years later, back at the lodge, it's time to break into pairs. With a mixture of excitement and nervousness, Thompson walks over to shake hands with the man who, back in Baltimore, had created the reason they are all here now. She can feel "the little butterflies in her stomach" as she looks up. And up. Thompson-all 4'11" of her-gazes at a conservatively dressed man in button-down oxford and sportcoat, well over 6' tall. Thompson admits to being jittery, but Smith's down-to-earth manner and sense of humor soon allow her to forget about the difference in their job titles. Thompson launches in with a laundry list of goals, which Smith quickly dismisses as overly aggressive. It's clear to her that he's "a disciplined person and thinker." He suggests she pare her goals down to three and place the others on the back burner. They choose time management, business knowledge, and company objectives. "For me," remembers Thompson, "that was a big eye-opener, that 'Hey, you can't boil the ocean.'"

At the kickoff's conclusion, they agree to biweekly future meetings and return to Jacksonville, where work life resumes. Every two weeks, she treks from her cubicle to his quiet, spacious office, where Smith listens and guides with a measured, "Have you thought about this ... ?" At one of their initial meetings, Smith asks her what she does away from CSX. Thompson mentions church and a college organization, along with her desire to connect in Jacksonville. Smith stresses the importance of volunteerism, finding a cause she's passionate about.

It's advice he followed for himself. He had begun volunteering while still in Baltimore, offering his support to small minority-owned businesses. Looking to recreate his lost sense of community after landing in Jacksonville, he again immersed himself into service, no small feat given his penchant for 12-hour-plus workdays. "It was a way to finally get my head around being here and thinking I would be here for a while," he says. "It turned out to be pivotal." He began where he'd left off-counseling small businesses through the chamber of commerce. This led to years of varied community service, including organizations that helped underprivileged children, public television, and the children's hospital, among others. One of the most memorable experiences, however, was his tenure with the Jacksonville Urban League.

He quickly moved from board membership into the yearlong position of chair, stepping into a minefield. Community leaders were vocally criticizing the organization for locating its largest Head Start facility on what was believed to be polluted ground. The program, developing school readiness for about 500 disadvantaged preschoolers, was housed in a public school over an old industrial site. It had been deemed safe by the Environmental Protection Agency and Health Department, but the public perception was otherwise. It became a "lightning rod, emotional issue." The community demanded the children be moved immediately-a politically popular sentiment, but ultimately unworkable. Smith and the Urban League knew the children weren't in immediate danger but, in the interest of all involved, were eager to work out a move. They knew, however, that they needed time and an approved childcare center.

Richard Danford, now in his 18th year as president of the 400-employee Jacksonville Urban League, remembers the controversy well. "A lot of it was grandstanding," he recalls. "We were a pretty big target. The city got involved, the mayor; it received national attention." Even more surprising, the organization found itself the unhappy object of a local demonstration. "They were picketing the Urban League," says Danford. "That's sure turning the foot around."

It was largely up to Smith to finesse the heated clash between popular opinion and reality, and he had no margin for error. Funding for the entire Jacksonville Head Start program, serving more than 2,000 disadvantaged children citywide, was in danger of collapse. Danford recalls tense meetings with city council and the mayor, explaining the predicament. In an unprecedented move, the embattled Urban League board asked Smith to stay on another year to weather the storm and smooth strained community relations. The city eventually helped fund the renovation of a new facility, and the Head Start program flourished, receiving additional funding to serve infants and toddlers. Smith looks back and describes it as "a trying time, but personally, one of the best experiences. People say you get the best out of somebody in the most difficult situations, and I think that's clearly the case."

Hamilton, a longtime friend and colleague, says she marveled at Smith's "unflappable" ability to quell the Urban League crisis, all while successfully handling his CSX responsibilities. She recalls a particular business trip to Omaha, Neb., the weekend Hurricane Katrina hit. Smith didn't miss a beat, even while fielding repeated calls with Danford.

Thompson, working through her year in ADP, flourishes in her own way. Each meeting with Smith provides another piece of the puzzle. They talk about time management. "Before I leave work now, I identify what I need to focus on the next day. When I come in the next morning, I'm never wondering, 'Now, where do I start?'" During a discussion on business knowledge, Thompson frets about keeping up with business information, because "you can't read a million periodicals a month!" Smith looks at her routine and points out that during her 6pm commute she can listen to NPR broadcasts.

With just a month left in her ADP year, Thompson's supervisor gives her great news. She's been promoted to manager. But the following year, she's summoned to the executive floor, in the midst of a brutal round of layoffs. Thompson calls her fiancé to warn him of the inevitable news. Except, at the meeting, the senior vice president congratulates her with another promotion-to one of only three senior human resources director positions in a company of thousands. She's 15 years younger than her largely male, nonminority peer group, and she credits Smith, in large part, with helping her succeed.

For Smith, there is a more tangible accolade. He has been named to Savoy Magazine's 2010 "100 Most Influential Blacks in Corporate America." The list by Savoy, touted as a leading voice for African American culture, is intended for "spotlighting leaders, movers, and shakers." Those identified include CEOs and top executives at corporations such as American Express, McDonald's, and Xerox.

Now, after 24 years at CSX, Smith has another new job. He's the vice president of financial planning and analysis-a departure from sales and marketing and a chance to broaden his corporate perspective. Among other things, he's now responsible for capital budgeting, risk management, and dealings with influential Wall Street analysts.

Thompson is delighted to read of her mentor's new position in a mass email from the company's CEO, Ward. To her, it's an unprecedented letter describing Smith's exceptional performance and his new 18-month "developmental" position, a clear sign there will be even bigger news to come.

Melissa Silmore (TPR'85) is a Pittsburgh-based freelance writer and a regular contributor to this magazine.