Yeah, this is one of those stories that would require us to be perched on bar stools with plenty of time. I was on a high wire act for two or three years. I'd finally gotten down off the thing and then they came after me. I have a big screw sticking out of my back.
The very short version is that I told all the powers what needed to happen to keep the wheels from coming off. They blew me off for two years and then, seven months too late, they came through with human resources. Everybody got the long knives out and needed a head to cut off. Mine apparently got offered up.
So, the public spin is that I've been reassigned because they need my expertise in data analysis and research, given my institutional memory. Most of campus knows something happened. People are scared (god, if they could do that to somebody like him), confused (don't know what to say to me), and angry (I have a friend who, without my input, declared my entire former staff persona non grata and deleted people from his distribution lists and disinvited them to events "I'm in Jim's column."). Me, I'm stuck in a closet and swing from depression to anger to relief.
My boss says she needs me ("I promise you are not being fired.") because "you know where the bodies are buried". It's ugly.
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