As the director of marketing, I was challenged to keep our salespeople motivated.  A tough task with the president commenting the company wasn’t going to make it.  His solution was to retreat: lay people off and cut expenses. In the toilet bowl, we were spiraling down the drain as customers fled our ever-worsening level of service.

Overwhelmed by never-ending crisis, our boss finally resigned his position and took a job delivering phone books—not as much pay but a lot less stress. In contrast to our Ivy League educated former boss, his successor Tom had only a high school education and little experience in the business.

Tom’s first day, he gathered the staff and announced we would be purchasing a new computer system.  A new computer system!  Why would you make a major investment with the company going out of business? Maybe, things were not as bad as we thought.

Tom presented a positive view of the future; with it employee morale soared, as did productivity and sales.

More important than a college diploma, he possessed a can-do attitude.  He provided hope while setting an example of hard work and resistance to adversity.  He was a leader rather than a retreater and the company prospered under his guidance.

When the confederate army surged through a gap in the union line during the Civil War battle of Chickamauga, the northern troops and their officers panicked and ran.

General George Thomas wasn’t running.  He assembled a defense line that held long enough for the retreating army to make it to safety.  Thomas saved he Army of the Cumberland and became forever known as the “Rock of Chickamauga.”

George Thomas was a leader.  In the midst of panic he rallied his troops and held his ground.  In contrast, a retreater is prone to retreat.  At the first sign of trouble he or she gives up the fight, runs for safety. As the leader goes, so go the troops with them all hope of success.

In advance of a Japanese victory, March of 1942 general Douglas McArthur was forced to flee the Philippine Islands. A pragmatist, he knew the battle was lost but he was determined to win the war.   Upon arriving in Australia, he made a simple statement that rallied resistance and offered a vision for the future: “I shall return.”

Like McArthur, a leader is a realist.  He or she understands retreat is sometimes necessary but when required, it is an organized withdrawal, giving way while maintaining morale and setting forth a vision of an ultimate success.

Even when facing failure, leaders continue to lead: offering a vision of success; maintaining a positive attitude; setting an example of hard work and pragmatic decisions.

Thanksgiving arrived and the house was in perfect condition, as, dressed in our best, were my father, brother and I. After a glass of sherry, my father was dispatched to bring the turkey to the table. His grand entrance was ruined when he stumbled and the turkey slid off the platter and onto the floor.

Even at ten-years of age, I recognized this was a major disaster. The room was silent until my mother said, “Don’t worry. Jack, pick up the turkey and we’ll serve the other bird.” My father placed the turkey back on the platter and accompanied by my mother, retreated to the kitchen. In a few minutes they reappeared with a beautifully plated turkey. Later I learned there was only one turkey and it had been dusted off, placed back on the platter and served.

My wife Terri’s first Thanksgiving after moving to Florida was her first away from her family. Our family’s traditional menu never changed: turkey, green beans, sweet potatoes, rice, dressing and dessert. We ignored Terri’s pleas for mashed potatoes, her family’s traditional side dish, until she started crying. Then realizing how homesick she was, my brother rushed to the store, purchased a bag of potatoes and assigned Terri the task of preparing them.

Feverishly she prepared the potatoes, placed them in a bowl, added a pound of butter, a cup of milk and started searching for an electric mixer. She responded to my comment that Southerners used potato mashers, that it wasn’t her problem that we didn’t know how to properly prepare potatoes: she needed a mixer.

After locating the mixer, Terri turned it on to high speed and plunged the whirling beaters into the potatoes. There were spuds on the walls, floor and even the ceiling; the mixer had flung potatoes all over the kitchen. Suddenly my brother started laughing: not just laughing but rolling on the floor, uncontrollable, howling. At that moment, Terri and my brother became close friends and we had something else to be thankful about.

A couple of years later, my brother, invited all his acquaintances who didn’t have Thanksgiving plans to join our celebration. The same year, Terri and I had invited her sister, brother-in-law and their two children to join us. I told them the temperature would be in the 70 to 80 degree range and be sure to bring shorts because we would take our boat on a tour of Crystal River.

Thanksgiving morning the temperature was in the upper 30’s, with rain, a howling wind and a forecast for the weather to remain the same throughout the day. Forty people—including Terri’s family who hadn’t packed so much as a sweater—had accepted the invitation for lunch. With the wind and rain, the plan had been to serve lunch on the front porch was out of the question; so we moved the celebration to the garage.

God love my brother, he was into the Thanksgiving punch and not much help; so it was up to me to find enough chairs. With the rental stores closed, I turned to our undertaker friend John “Digger” Hiers. John had plenty of folding chairs, and was glad to lend them to us but had no way to deliver them—until you have done it, you don’t know how many trips in a four-door car it takes to retrieve forty folding chairs. We celebrated that memorable Thanksgiving sitting on chairs marked “Hiers Funeral Home,” in a garage, with a storm howling outside.

Thanksgiving is the day that is set aside for us to reflect upon the gifts we have been freely given. My wishes for all: a bountiful feast, a wonderful time with family and friends and time to think about blessings. Happy Thanksgiving!

In the course of one of the Ernest and Julio periods—a time of worry about money and jobs—I was celebrating the New Year with friends in Charleston, South Carolina.  One early morning, I noticed a newspaper headline announcing the CEO of Time Warner had passed away leaving a considerable fortune.  It struck me: I was spending time and energy worrying about money, when the head of Time Warner would have given everything he had for what I had acquired for no cost…my good health.

I don’t have millions of dollars but I possess wealth of which men of substantial means would be envious: good health, friends and a loving family.  I am blessed with the God given ability to work and surrounded by wonderful people and friends who inspire me by refusing to give in to adversity.  I have learned, I am the most productive, successful and satisfied when I grasp just how fortunate I am.

A long-time friend informed me that he is suffering from a degenerative disease.  Always the picture of health, he never let on to a problem that makes it difficult for him to stand and walk.  When the doctors told him in a relatively short time he would be confined to a wheel chair and eventually bedridden, he informed them they were wrong; he wasn’t going to let that happen and that he no longer needed them.  He never went back to those doctors and he’s still walking.  Listening to his story, I was taken back by the courage it took for him to face each day and shameful of how I let incidents of little importance drive me to distraction.

The market, oil spills, Greece, the economic trials we are facing—there is no profit in fretting about what you cannot control.  I try to cast negative thoughts out by focusing on what I can do: developing a new strategy to increase sales; determining where I can cut costs; identifying and implementing ways to better promote our services and the list goes on.  To brood about “what I can’t do” is negative, debilitating and destructive.  Conversely, concentrating on “what I can do” is positive, invigorating and constructive.

Gazing upon different layers in the bottle of corks, I don’t dwell on the good and bad times.  Instead, I linger over memories of the wine: even the least of which was better than none at all.

I was 16, a high school junior, I had a date with an 18 year old senior and I wanted everything to be perfect. Saturday morning after cleaning, washing and waxing my car, I headed to the barbershop.

To impress upon the barber how important it was for me to look good, I told him about my big date. He stopped cutting and said, “If you want to impress a girl you need a professional shave. She’s not going to rub her smooth cheek against your rough beard.”

Beard. I had a beard? He was right: why wash the car, get a haircut and dress up only to find the girl didn’t want to mar her gentle skin with my manly beard. “Yeah, you’re right. Go ahead with the shave.”

He placed a hot towel on my face; strapped his razor; brushed on shaving cream and began scraping the whiskers. With my eyes closed, I was thinking about being grownup and dreaming about the coming evening when the comments began.

“Turn the razor over, you don’t need the sharp side for that beard.”

“Heck you don’t need a razor: a good rub with a wet towel and that peach fuzz will come right off.”

The men waiting for their haircuts had found a target and I was it. Too late to leave, all I could do was to silently take the razzing.

Years later my bookkeeper convinced me to go to a styling salon rather than a barbershop.

Embarrassed about going to a “beauty shop,” I made an appointment to coincide with the salon’s opening. A beautiful woman greeted me and inquired as to how I wanted my hair cut. I didn’t know how to answer: this wasn’t a question Percy Perkins asked. I thought, “If this good looking woman likes the result, it will have to be the best haircut ever;” so I responded,“The way you think best.”

After every few clips with her scissors, the stylist would put her face next to mine and as we both stared into the mirror, inquire if everything was all right. With her cheek close and intoxicated by sweet perfume, I realized Percy Perkins had lost my business.

Bedazzled, not paying attention to what she was saying, I readily agreed to her suggestion to make me even more handsome.

She tilted the chair back, placed my neck on the edge of a sink and gently washed my hair: her hands massaging my head as she leaned over me. I drifted away, dreamily happy, until I open my eyes, gazed into the mirror and realized I had a “roller” in my hair. Panic ensued: what if someone who knew me walked in—I would be the laughing stock of Ocala. Fortunately, no one who mattered saw me and I escaped with my reputation intact.

My father taught me that grooming matters in building relationships and success. Well groomed and neatly dressed, you convey a message that you care enough about others to want to make a good impression. In turn, you boost your self-esteem thus raising your confidence to make and carry forward decisions.

Looking Good

“If you look good, you feel good. If you feel good, you play good. If you play good the pay’s good.” – “Neon” Deion Sanders

After graduating from college, I went to work for my father.  I had only been on the job a few days when the general manager asked me to check an estimate. I commenced to check his math: multiplying, adding and totaling columns by hand. He laughed at my efforts and asked why I didn’t use the comptometer. At first, I had no idea what it was, but I soon learned how to operate the weird machine.

The size of an IBM Selectric typewriter—another ancient and rare piece of office equipment—our comptometer weighed about as much as a Volkswagen Beetle. Atop  the machine rested two keyboards and a row of small windows in which the calculations appeared. Using the apparatus to multiply or divide, the internal mechanisms would clank and bang for what seemed to be an eternity before miraculously the results would appear. I thought the gadget to be a miracle of technology until we purchased our first electronic calculator.

Similar in appearance to a telephone, our first calculator had no printer and  a surge of electricity from a distant storm would destroy the display. When it first arrived,  I would enter a calculation and then check the answer by hand. For a mathematically challenged history major, the instantaneous calculation of a square root was a miracle. I was satisfied with the calculator and its successors until I discovered computers.

While drinking a beer with a guy I had played in a racquetball tournament, I asked what he did for a living. He responded, “I run a company that develops and sell small business accounting software.”

“Small business software: you had to be kidding! To run software, you have to own a computer and our company can’t afford a computer!”

Soon afterward he sold us our first computer.

The day they delivered our brand new TRS 80—Tandy Radio Shack—computer, I was as excited as if the governor had stopped by. We had purchased the top of the line: 64k of memory, a 13” black and white monitor and an expansion bay, with three 5 1/4” floppy drives. A machine so cutting edge that an industry trade magazine detailed a reporter to take pictures and gather information for a feature story. Our accounting was automated and with the advent of the first spreadsheet program, so was our estimating. I thought technology had peaked.

Now I own an Ipad. The size of a small notepad, it is a personal entertainment and business center. I can download and read books while listening to my favorite music; I am able to play a game, check email, write a letter or surf the Internet. Not requiring wires, external power or speakers: a miraculous advance in technology.

As I download applications to my Ipad, I sometimes think about Mr. Laferty: the advances in technology and how those advance have changed our lives.

25 years ago, if today’s technology had been available I might still be in the construction business. What were once onerous tasks, such as producing shop drawings, now take only minutes. Communications with customers, employees and vendors would be seamless and immediate; in many ways business is easier now: but, are things really better? Perhaps and perhaps not.

Always in touch, there’s a tendency towards making precipitous rather than well-considered decisions? The urgency of instant connectivity can result in reduced productivity, mistakes and damaged relationships. Technology also affects personal relationships.

Tablet computers, smart phones, video games allow for self-sufficient entertainment: we don’t need others to distract us from boredom. Yet, social interaction and boredom are important to our well-being: if our minds are always occupied, there is little time for creativity and the lack of interaction can lead to an acceptance of isolation from others.

It’s been an amazing journey with technology: from watching a comptometer chugging away to sitting on my back porch surfing the web. Technology begets technology; so, advancements are going to continue; I cannot imagine what tomorrow will bring. I do know that we must not become so enslaved to tools that we lose touch with each other.

 Quote

“As industrial technology advances and enlarges, and in the process assumes greater social, economic, and political force, it carries people away from where they belong by history, culture, deeds, association and affection.” – Wendell Berry

In commercial construction, to insure subcontractors finish their work, general contractors typically retain 10% of monies due until the job is complete. That’s where our cash was, retained until the cows came in or until our customers no longer needed the money to finance their operations.

Daily, on my way to my office, my blood pressure rose as I passed a manufacturing plant for which we had not been paid for our work.  Fed up, I asked my attorney to notify the contractor, owner, architect and anyone else he thought of, that we were going to file a collections’ suit; the threat got everyone’s attention and the owner called for a meeting.

We met in the plant’s conference room. The owner’s representative opened the meeting by asking the contractor why we hadn’t been paid. He answered, “They haven’t repaired the damaged fascia metal.”  My roofing department manager replied, “What damage?” The contractor stood, puffed out his chest and exclaimed, “The damage I told you about! You dummy.”  I grabbed the department manager as he lunged across the table, trying to grab the man by the throat.

When calm returned, the owner suggested we view the damaged fascia. With the contractor and my manager safely separated by the owner, architect and myself—we trooped to the far side of the building.

The contractor stopped and pointed to the fascia some 20 feet above the ground and said “There.” We stared until the owner’s representative said, “Where?”

“There, where I’m pointing!”

“I don’t see anything.”

“Wait until the sun is a little further up; then you can see it.”

“My goodness, you mean you’ve been holding $50,000 of this man’s money on a defect you can only see when the sun is a particular place in the heavens!”

He turned to me and said, “Mr. Tucker you’ll have a check by tomorrow afternoon.”

Soon after I made the determination to sell the company.

I recognized that I was part of our collection problem. I was a square peg in a round hole: I had tried to do the best I could; spent a lot sleepless night and kept long hours but I wasn’t detail oriented or tough enough to survive in the construction industry.

To know and focus on what you do well is a key to personal success and happiness. This doesn’t mean you can’t succeed where your skills are weak. You can if you place yourself in a situation where you are working with people whose strengths compliment your weaknesses—that’s how you build a successful team.

The critical component is to recognize, admit and accept your aptitudes and talents.

 Ability

“Knowing what you can not do is more important than knowing what you can do.” – Lucille Ball

The “Fight or Flight” syndrome describes how someone reacts when they are unexpectedly frightened. Taking a walk, my wife Terri and I came across a neighbor’s yard sale. The man hosting the sale told Terri he had a special memento she might be interested in. She watched as he slowly opened a box; suddenly without warning a fake squirrel sprung out. I was able to grab her arm as she was starting her swing at the guy’s nose. “Fight or Flight,” Terri’s instinct when startled is to fight.

In a survey in a magazine, respondents were asked what golf shot caused them the most fear. I expected the number one answer to be a difficult stroke: out of a sand trap, over water or an attempt out of deep rough. Surprisingly, most respondents answered “the beginning shot off of the first tee.”  The first tee is usually crowded with people waiting to tee-off; the fear of failing in front of those people drove the response.

The fear of failing in front of others is responsible for what is described as one of people’s greatest terrors, the fear of public speaking. The trepidation engendered from speaking in public is not limited to addressing a large audience; it also prevents people from expressing their opinions in small meetings. How often have I heard, “I wanted to say something but I am afraid people will find my opinion to be stupid.”

Some people seek out situations that others dread. They thrive on the dream of success: a place kicker called upon to kick the winning field goal with only seconds left in the game; a political candidate addressing an audience of thousands of people; and perhaps, a fireman rushing into a burning building. Others react to challenges by either fleeing or fighting.

I am not convinced you ever truly overcome a deep-seated dread of something; I do believe you can learn to harness an anxiety and use it to drive success. By recognizing your fear you can take actions overcome it.  Whatever you do—golf lessons, Toastmasters and the list could go on—those measures, will pay off in ways far beyond overcoming your fears.

Fear

“It is not a matter of being fearless. The fear is sometimes constant, but it’s about moving forward regardless of the fear. Courage means feeling the fear and doing it anyway.” -Gillian Anderson

Knowing how tight he was, I couldn’t keep quiet when he told me to put extra ingredients on a customer’s pie. “Mr. Styles, are you sure you want me to ‘load’ this pizza?”

He surprised me with his answer: “Yes. He’s a regular customer, spends a lot of money and I want to make sure he keeps coming back.”

Years ago, Terri and I regularly frequented a Winter Park seafood restaurant. They served good food and Freddy our waiter always took good care of us: on a crowded night, even without a reservation, we would be seated; occasionally a free appetizer or glass of wine would appear and he always knew when there was a special occasion. In Winter Park, there were numerous restaurant choices but we always returned to where we were welcomed.

I’m a creature of habit, on Mondays I eat at a local Wendys and Thursday is “taco day” at Taco Bell. Only once has the Wendy’s manager spoken to me and then to explain that they were charging me more than the listed price because the listed price was wrong. The Taco Bell manager treats me like I’m the franchise owner: he greets me with inquiries about my health; from time to time there is an extra taco on my plate and he checks to make sure everything is alright. The quality of the food and the service at the Wendy’s restaurant is better, however, I prefer the taco place.

People are confronted with a variety of options when it comes to almost everything: restaurants, stores, entertainment and relationships. With a large number of choices deciding what items to purchase is a challenge. Product, service and price are the primary drivers of the decision but also play a part are intangible elements, such as showing appreciation.

Gratitude is also important in personal relationships.

Tired, reading a novel and beginning to fall asleep, I only grunted in response to Terri’s account of dealing with a problem. Sensing her silence, I looked and found her staring at me with a hurt expression on her face. She had spent her lunch hour tending to our predicament and my appreciation was an annoyed grunt. My response had hurt her feelings and dampened her excitement over a task well done.

In business, people readily recognize that relationships are built upon a foundation of honesty, trust and service. However they often fail to acknowledge appreciation as an additional important element. Gratefulness demonstrates a selfless willingness to recognize other people’s efforts and achievements.

In our business as well as personal lives, a generosity of spirit often determines the depth of our connection with others.

Appreciation

“The deepest principle in human nature is the craving to be appreciated.” – William James

For 18 years Johnny was my second mother. She fixed meals; placed band aids on my wounds and when needed, twisted my ear and spanked my behind.  Johnny lived in West and we lived in East Ocala; between the two existed the unseen fence of segregation.  On one side stark poverty prevailed: unpaved streets, run-down “shotgun” homes and outdoor privies.  On the other side we lived in a contrasting world of relative wealth.  We didn’t question the right or wrong of segregation, it was part of the world we lived in.

When I first went to work for my father we were always busy.  There were plenty of jobs, a demand for our services and numerous projects being bid.  At times I wished business would slow just enough for me to catch my breath.  I learned to be careful what you wish for.

In October of 1973 OPEC declared an embargo on oil shipments to the United States and almost immediately the country was thrown into a recession.  Suddenly, we had no work.  The business world and my assumption that we would always be busy were turned upside down.

Not long ago, I had a conversation with a young man who related how his income increased every year for the 12 years after he graduated from college.  He planned his life style upon the rising income spiral but the downward corkscrewing economy left him with debt he could not repay.

Wrongs occasioned by segregation; the time when there was too much work; the economic boom, were situations that didn’t last.  In hindsight, I realize if these circumstances had been scrutinized we would have recognized the evil of segregation and that business booms are unsustainable.

I have learned that opportunities for the here and now are limited and incorrect assumptions about the future result from the failure to question present circumstances.

Questions

“Questions focus our thinking. Ask empowering questions like: What’s good about this? What’s not perfect about it yet? What am I going to do next time? How can I do this and have fun doing it?” – Charles Connolly

Although the engineer had  been assigned to southern Dade for years, he couldn’t locate the schools: downed trees and debris blocked roads; landmarks had been blown away and the wind had scoured the paint from street signs.

Block after block we passed heavily damaged homes: roofs blown off, trees uprooted and cars overturned. Some homeowners spray painted defiant signs on the sides of their houses: “We survived,” “You loot—we shoot” and “To hell with Andrew.” Others demonstrated their sense of humor: “Firewood for Sale” and “Used furniture—cheap.” Most frequently you would see the name of their insurance company: “Allstate—stop here,” “State Farm—where are you.”

In almost every yard home owners were cleaning up after the storm. No electricity, tropical hot—many without a roof over their heads—they continued working. Impossible tasks, that day after day, had to be undertaken one limb, one piece of debris one precious memento at a time.

People faced the heat, the lack of water and the endless clean up and they dealt with the fear of looters. Armed with pistols and hunting rifles they banded together to patrol and protect their neighborhoods. They told stories of gunshots in the night and despite a dawn to dusk curfew, strangers roaming the streets.

Exiting from an elementary school near Homestead I heard a loud noise. Walking to the sound I spotted people standing on the sidewalk, cheering and crying tears of relief as soldiers from the 82nd airborne marched down the street. Dispensed only to provide humanitarian aid, nevertheless, their presence provided a needed sense of security.

When I left the key in the ignition and locked the car, The 7:00 PM curfew became a serious issue. Not wanting to spend the night in south Dade, I waived down a passing deputy who unsuccessfully tried to Jimmy the lock. In desperation, with a borrowed hammer, I shattered a ventilation window and unlocked the vehicle. A damaged window was the cost for me to leave behind the misery that hundreds of thousands of men, women and children were enduring daily.

Andrew taught me lessons about resilience, determination and community. I observed people pulling themselves up to rebuild and band with neighbors to protect their homes; I passed volunteers directing traffic in the brutal midday tropical sun.

I learned People are tougher than I thought.  In the midst of chaos and the absence of government they will do what is necessary to protect their families, homes and community.