A Father's Lesson in Leadership

I started elementary school at the age of six, in rural East Tennessee. I thought everyone lived the way we did. Our financial situation certainly wasn’t an indicator of my father’s willingness to provide for his family. He used to tell me, “It is an honor for a man to be able to work to support his family.”

I have been told when my Dad returned home as an expert rifleman from the trenches of Korea, he refused to discuss the war, and immediately looked for work. He did the best he could in our rural area. I didn’t know jobs were scarce and money was tough to come by. I really didn’t need money. I had my parents, my dog, a roof over our head and food to eat. I didn’t know how hard my father worked, although I did ask him about his bleeding hands and why he had to leave us so early. His response was always, “I just have to go an’ talk to a fellow about a dog.”

My first day of school was a thrill and an eye opener. There were shiny new books printed on fresh paper (today, I still love the smell of a newly published novel, especially if it is one of my own). A few of the children looked at me suspiciously. I really didn’t know why. I held my head high and tried to make new friends as best I could. Soon, I realized I dressed differently than many of the other kids. My clothes were hand-me-downs from my older cousin and my blue jeans had large patches on the knees, often patches on top of patches. This made them last longer and often covered another anomaly underneath.

One afternoon I returned home from school to find my Dad working on our old lawn mower for what seemed like the one hundredth time. He stood up to give me a hug and ask how school went. I shuffled my feet and stared at the ground. He frowned and asked me again.

“Dad, why do a lot of the kids dress better than I do?” I asked.

I still remember the hurt that crossed his face. He tried to hide it and dropped to his knees before me, as he always did, when he wanted to look me in the eye and make sure I understood what he was going to say.

I will never forget his next words. He said, “Son, I know it hurts. But if you don’t ever lie and you don’t ever steal, then you’ve got more than most people’s got.”

His words were now burned in my brain. But those words, along with his other teachings and self-example in honor, self-discipline, honesty, integrity, and patriotism were always there, just when I needed them to be. Often, I still hear them echo from my childhood as I draw on his wisdom, even today. My children heard of it and although I do not believe I am the man my father was, I have done my best to live up to his standards and his example, while planting his seed in my children for their future.

My Dad always had three dreams for me. He wanted me to go to college, have dinner with the President of the United States, and to remember what it was like to walk barefoot through a freshly plowed field. He said that was for me to keep my roots where they belonged. I accomplished all three. I still remember the feel of freshly plowed earth between my toes.

For a man that never went to college, he was wise beyond any alphabet soup at the end of his name. During my career, I have applied much of his wisdom to building teams and leading people. There are many skills you can teach your team. But, the really important skills of life, are things that should already be part of their character.

If your team doesn’t demonstrate desirable character traits, perhaps the first thing you should examine is yourself. Perhaps, you should look inwardly at the example, you set as the leader. Another wise teaching from my father is, “A fish rots from the head down.” Until I became a leader of people, I thought he was talking about a Shad fish.

Thank you Dad!