Two Minutes for Entrepreneurial Leaders.
In 1950, my Dad and some of his buddies enlisted in the U.S. Air Force. These poor kids would escape a hard life in the coalmines of western Pennsylvania to a world of travel, discipline and sacrifice.
I always looked up to my Dad. Like so many young boys growing up in that golden era, Dad was my hero. He told me that real military heroes were the ones that never made it home from war. After 20 years in the service, he had had only achieved the rank of Master Sergeant. But he was always great leader in my eyes.
Dad wasn’t a General, or a famous athlete or movie star. But his men and everyone I knew respected him for his honesty, hard work, and character. When he wasn’t away
on long military assignments, including Vietnam, he would spend time with me, playing catch and teaching me how things worked.
I was born with a clubfoot, so I had a hard time walking or running. When I tried out
for the High School basketball team, I was the first kid cut, and laughed off the court.
It was devastating. So Dad turned our parking lot into a basketball court and put me on
a strict regimen of practice. He trained with me almost every day, including when we had to shovel off the snow in winter.
Exactly a year later, I made the starting varsity team.
After playing countless hours of basketball together, I was surprised that he never came to any of my High School games—except one. In about the third game left in my senior year, someone pointed him out to me, sitting in the stands. Later, after the game, my coach told me I broke the school record—in assists. Dad said that even though I didn’t score a point, I was a “chip off the old block.” I couldn’t have been prouder than if I had scored 50 points.
I later found out that Dad couldn’t attend my games because he worked a second, night shift as a security guard to pay for my college.
My brothers followed his lead and became Army officers. I became an artist and
worked as an art director for my friend’s new company, called CareerTrack. For the
next 11 years I helped design and produce professional development seminars on communication, management and leadership.
In a nutshell, I learned two things: one, that most seminar trainers teach on what they need to learn themselves; and two, you may remember just one thing on any seminar
you attend—if you’re lucky.
Author Leonard Sweet said recently that there are over 10,000 books on leadership alone. That’s a lot of information and advice. But think about it: what do you remember about leadership? I can only think of one thing: my Dad. And mostly because of what he did, and not necessarily what he said. He always led by example.
His advice was simple. Whenever I had a major problem or faced a crisis in my adult life, I called Dad. “Work on yourself first,” he would always say, “that’s the only thing you can control.” He’s 78 now, but just the other day he said that he didn’t know what to tell me to do—but he knew me, and he had faith in me that I would do the right thing.
Classic Dad material.
Yesterday my youngest son asked me to help him in a difficult situation. I said, “Just
be yourself. You’re a good leader, and I know you’ll do the right thing.”
And I know why he will.