Mentors and Success

In "Overcoming the Odds", Emma Werner and Ruth Smith share their research of Kauai's indigenous children determining resiliency factors influencing a Kauai child's capacity to transcend a population rife with excessive rates of alcoholism, poverty, and suicide.

Their thirty year study identified three factors influencing a child's capacity to overcome significant obstacles to become happy, fulfilled adults. The factors are not interdependent. Please find them listed below.

1. A child is more likely to overcome obstacles if no siblings are born within two years of his or her birth. Receiving focused nurturing and care in the first two years of one's life has a strong impact on one's ability to handle setbacks.

This translates to primates where chimps' normal gestation cycles are five years. When a chimp's sibling is born within this five year period, the older chimp usually fails to reach adulthood.

Werner and Smith also learned 2. children with special talents or skills, whose traits garner early recognition, are more capable of overcoming significant odds. Being artistic, athletic, academic, cute, big, funny, etc. attracts positive attention and gives a child hope. This is critical in fostering direction and confidence.

The study also found 3. Kauai's resilient children had at least one adult in their lives who took a sincere and meaningful interest in the child's well being. Resilient kids have mentors. Whether it's a parent, neighbor, coach, teacher, relative, or another member of the community, children need someone to care about their well being and to give them specific feedback to achieve goals.

Mentoring is the most controllable of these three resiliency factor. It's easy to identify good mentors and to train sound mentoring skills.

And, mentoring makes life more satisfying. A gallop pole surveyed Americans to determine "what makes Americans happy?" The survey found three actions contribute to a person's sense a satisfaction. Please find them listed below.

1. Happy people contribute to a cause larger than their immediate family, like a community center, church, or school.

2. Happy people identify and use their unique talents and skills.

3. Happy people make meaningful differences in other people's lives. They mentor.

A person or organization utilizes mentors to bounce back from adversity and to succeed. Being a mentor increases life satisfaction and happiness.

It's a win / win relationship.

Reaching the Peak

Great expectations don't always guarantee anticipated results, but a positive outlook and effort can bring uncommon rewards and growth.

It was the last night on the course and everyone was looking forward to ice cream at base camp the next day. Ten days of hiking fifteen to twenty miles per day with forty pound packs on our backs, and eating rationed, dehydrated food, leaned our bodies. It got me in shape for football camp.

Our goal was to merge with another New Jersey group and to greet the sunrise atop the Tooth of Time, a jagged rock outcropping whose silhouette brands Philmont belt buckles, shirts, and coats, recognizing the famed New Mexico Boy Scout reservation.

It was a fitting end to an eventful ten days where I worked to keep our unit together and safe. John Gruber, the unit's adult leader, threatened to leave us three days into the trip. Eagles on our crew were squawking over extra food, and acting, according to John, like brats. He wanted to leave unless they stopped. With peer pressure,they changed. Also, my boots were falling apart, yet they finished the trail intact.

Our unit was filled with Eagle and Life Scouts. Rank does not always correlate with leadership. I was First Class - the lowest rank allowed at Philmont. Despite my lack of merit badges, the unit awarded me an iron nail we forged at Cypher's mine.

The blacksmith stated it was to be given, at the end of the trek, to the most influential scout. This nail sits on my office desk, a constant reminder of our final morning's ascent.

We woke at midnight. I cut my fingernails before bed. In the high altitude, my finger tips swelled. This and being dazed from two hours sleep made me unable to tie my pack and shoes. I was in a fog. I think Owen Bird or Mark Copas offered to help. Or maybe it was Neil Guthrie.

As we hiked, I couldn't open my eyes. My sleep was off. I'd wake every night between two and four AM and remained awake until about five. The extreme quiet, or distant noises, made my mind and heart race. Rest was impossible. Early in the trip, I thought a bear visited our camp as we slept. We found bear tracks the following morning. This impacted my sleeping patterns.

The trek was a testing ground. My mom was into her sixth year of remission, but she was hurting. This and my dad's related sudden outbursts created undue stress. My schoolwork suffered because I was truant and hanging with questionable kids. Scouting was great for me, but it was not like my father's experience. We was NJ's youngest Eagle recipient, ever.

Life's tougher knocks overwhelmed me. It was hard for me to look at my situation with perspective when comparing my results with other kids'. I felt like a loser and wanted to prove myself.

My plan was to follow and reflect on the two positive weeks. It was very dark. There was no moon. John and Mr. Ames, the other unit's leader, assessed the map and thought we missed the Tooth's trail. They suggested we blaze a new path connecting us with the Tooth's proper trail they figured was between the Tooth's big mountain outlined in the night's sky behind us, and a smaller mountain we faced.

With a frenetic bounce appropriate for his Teddy Roosevelt looks, including the handlebar mustache, Mr. Ames forged ahead on a small, rough, path. It resembled a deer path. Brush was pushed aside. It was not well worn. Our units followed until we came to the base of boulders. A scout from the other troop led the climb. As he crawled, he loosened some rocks and they were falling. Some scouts panicked and screamed about being hit. Someone yelled: “I broke my leg”. The leader endangered climbers behind him so John and Mr. Ames stopped him.

There was a private meeting between Mr. Ames and John, but I heard them. They did not want to climb back down the loose boulders with twenty two scouts in the dark, yet they had no idea what lay ahead. I offered to lead the expedition and felt an adrenalin surge. There was a solid faced rock between boulders. It seemed to have enough hand holds and moss to make a continued climb possible.

I was hyper alert, and very cautious. We realized we missed the correct trail leading to the Tooth of Time and we were in a dangerous jam. One slip would cause an avalanche. We climbed the mountain in front of the tooth. It was not a marked, or approved, area. It was pitch black. We were in the middle of a vertical boulder field. We learned later several scouts were critically injured a week earlier at this exact site, in broad daylight.

I was calm and sensed there was a solution. Not everyone was on board. About three quarters up the mountain, after maneuvering around a ledge while checking its stability with my heels, Mr. Ames lost it. He was saying to himself: "Oh God, what did I do? One slip and we will all die!"

I told him to relax and to keep moving forward. At the same time, my arms walked me, like on parallel bars, across a crevice as my legs dangled free. It was a black hole and I imagined a bear or snake was resting in it. Everyone helped each other across the hole. No one was injured.

A well traveled trail appeared. We followed it and rested on a series of ledges in a clearing. We watched the silver lined clouds framing the sunrise. Looming directly behind us was the majestic Tooth of Time, our intended destination. It was crazy, but I learned more by taking this unmarked path than by climbing the traditional, well traveled, Tooth's path. In some ways, this parallels my life. I am very thankful for sensing guidance and leading those 22 scouts to safety. At the ledge, I sat down, cradled my head in my hands between my knees, gave thanks, and slept.

There was a broad, safe trail leading from these ledges down the other side of this mountain to base camp. The ice cream and subsequent naps were refreshing. And, my positive outlook started me on a unique high school odyssey.

In the fall, I gave up Scouting to focus on football, wrestling, and track. My grades got better. Our football team went undefeated over the next three years and we finished top ranked in NJ my senior year. I graduated from Brown, coached college football, received a Masters Degree, and created a business. The attitude influenced by this wrong and dangerous Philmont Mountain path changed my life for good.

Memorial Day Reflections

Growing up, my role models were those who served to protect and defend the United States of America with honor, duty, and compassion. On this Memorial Day 2009, I’m reminded of five men who risked or gave their lives and well being to preserve our freedoms.

Edmund Bowen (above right), my grandfather, was a World War I Army Veteran. He was blown out of fox hole and lost considerable hearing as a result. He was also the only member of his battalion to survive the blast. Most of this war involved hand to hand combat. He spent the remainder of his long life coming to terms with those horrors. In addition, he became an inaugural member of NJ’s State Police Force where happenstance allowed him to meet my grandmother. Throughout his life he served and assisted those less fortunate.

Joseph Salvest, my Godfather, served the Army with distinction in World War II’s Pacific Theatre where resulting injuries precluded his ability to have children with his wife, my great Aunt Myrt. They married during a long weekend furlough between two year long calls. He became postmaster general of the second largest, per volume, postal center in the country. As its board member, he established National Credit Union Member accrediting standards exceeding FDIC requirements.

Ted Monica, my head high school football coach, is a Marine Veteran who received a Purple Heart in the Korean War. A bullet lodged in his spinal column, ultimately causing great pain in his back and legs. In his twenty five years as a coach, he never discussed his military service yet led exceptional teams to record victories. His legacy is the selfless teamwork and coaching skills he modeled and fostered amongst his players. He helped his players accomplish things they never thought possible.

Fred Lippitt, my former neighbor and friend, received two Purple Hearts; one for his service in World War II and one for his service in Korea. He shared with me the bullet a nurse place wrapped in his hand following his surgery near a World War II battle front. This injury rendered him unable to have children, so he dedicated his life, and considerable good fortune, to elevating those less fortunate. He was a public servant, philanthropist, leader, and friend to all.

Dave Laychack, my Brown fraternity brother, lost his life on 9/11/2001 when an aircraft commandeered by terrorists smashed into the Pentagon. Dave’s office was located on the building’s perimeter wall. It took searchers three months to find his remains. Dave left a wife and two children. I’m guessing they were in his thoughts as he gazed from his office that morning.

The freedom to choose to attend a university, and then to work as a civilian for the department of defense, was afforded Dave by sacrifices made by men like Fred, Ted, Joe, and Ed. As undergraduates, it was appropriate, albeit ironic, for Dave to think quickly to avoid violence as he broke into patriotic song and lead us in a singing protest against students petitioning the Solomon Amendment.

This amendment conditioned eligibility for Federal financial aid for higher education and job training, Federal government employment, and other Federal benefits with an individual’s registering with the Selective Service System or certifying he or she was not required to do so.

Most members of my fraternity came from middle class families with military histories and were happy to register with the Selective Service System. Many of us were recruited by, and considered attending, United States Service Academies.

One fraternity brother, Bobby, questioned the petitioners by quipping: “let me get this straight, your petition basically states you want the United States, and our tax dollars, to support you financially while attending Brown, and as “thanks” you say “screw you, I’m not willing to sacrifice for you”, is that it?“

Following Bobby’s question, the small room filled with forty fraternity members and the two petitioners became hostile. At the time, our fraternity had no housing privileges. We were walking on egg shells to comply with the university’s good behavior expectations to qualify to return to campus housing. A violent outburst against these visitors would ruin the chance to get housing, yet seemed inevitable until Dave’s quick response and stirring rendition of “God Bless America”. Our voices, not our fists, blasted these petitioners from the room. We ultimately secured campus housing.

Dave, Steve Brown, and Dan Nelson were seniors. They were graduating and were in no position to benefit from us being granted housing, but they supported us through their senior year, especially Dave. His dedication and loyalty was exemplary.

Dave had a quick wit and a great sense of duty. We were not surprised to learn he dedicated his work life to the Pentagon. A few weeks ago, my family toured this facility. We visited Washington to see the memorials. We also arranged Capitol Building and Pentagon tours via our congressman.

We learned the Pentagon has 17.5 miles of corridors. If placed on its side, it would be taller than the Empire State Building. It’s the largest functioning office building in the world with 23,000 employees.

Dave’s area was under construction the morning of the attacks. If this area was occupied to capacity, at least 6,000 – 10,000 people would have perished. One hundred and twenty five (125) employees and contractors died while working at the site. An additional fifty nine (59) hostages aboard Flight 77 died on impact bringing the casualty total to 184. Although horrific, it could have been much worse.

Some engineers speculate had it not been for the steel girders, in place to support renovations, the plane may have destroyed the entire building. I believe Dave blocked the plane’s potential destruction. In the memorial garden, of the 184 benches, Dave’s sits closest to the building, signifying his proximity to impact.

The contractors tasked to reconstruct the building committed to finishing the project within a year of the attack. They charged no overtime, yet worked around the clock to accomplish this goal. They considered this considerable sacrifice their contribution to society. They succeeded.

I am humbled and deeply patriotic thanks to the behaviors and selfless sacrifice my role models demonstrated. This devotion to the United States was shared by most of my hometown friends, but I had to search for it at Brown. Not many of the faculty or students embraced the fundamental truths dictated by the constitution and defended by my role models. Instead, I saw people manipulate these protected rights for selfish reasons - social and economic advancement.

I do not see our candidates for higher office or Supreme Court appointments demonstrating their sacrifices as often as I hear them using political correctness for personal promotion or to browbeat others from challenging their perspectives.

Granted, not everyone feels their protected class, affinity, or family was treated, historically, with the same equality as my role models. The two Brown petitioners may have been fighting the Solomon Amendment because they felt it penalized gays.

During the tour, another interesting fact was shared about the Pentagon. The building has twice the number of bathrooms and water fountains required by code. When it was built in 1943, a mere 66 years ago, separate facilities were required for different races.

The system Jefferson and his cohorts penned, the system my role models defended, can correct and adjust itself with incredible speed. To date, it can be argued, it’s the greatest governing system ever created.

Drive for Life: Just because You're Diagnosed with a Life Altering Disorder Doesn't Mean it's Time to Give Up!

John “Bake” (his nickname complements Brown point guard Alex Bynum’s “Shake”) McBride and I were on the same schedule during our 1980 freshman year at Brown University. We shared, along with twenty five other young men, the third floor bathroom in Perkins Hall.

Perkins is the most removed dorm from Brown’s main campus. It was acquired from Bryant Business School and sits on the edge of Fox Point. Before gentrifying, Fox Point was a blue collar neighborhood filled with immigrant populations. When we started at Brown, Fox Point had fallen on hard times. Rumors had a robust street drug trade thriving around the corner, though I never witnessed illicit dealings. Suspicious characters flourished.

Perkins has a typical brick and mortar institutional look yet attempts to reflect Le Corbusier edicts with pillars supporting its jutting first floor, to separate living space from the street. The roof became “Perkins Beach” when the weather turned nice, but between November and April, sunny days in Providence are as uncommon as ethical legislators in its capital building. Cement engravings extolling: “As Ye Sow” centered on its left façade, with matching: “So Shall Ye Reap” on its right, greets visitors.

Being on the top floor secluded us from the central campus community, but fostered a close bond with survivors. The dorm’s location added considerable distance to the athletic center, classes, libraries, and meals. Several hall-mates, burdened with time management challenges, left Brown for academic reasons.

Brown blended freshmen football recruits, more hockey recruits, a few basketball recruits with several female weight throwers, rowers and interspersed them with about ten students accepted to Brown’s then seven year medical program on our hall. These students were admitted to medical school out of high school. It was a culture clash – extreme jocks with extreme students.

I lumbered upon and stopped attempted crimes, including assaults, on my off hour travels to and from main campus and speculated Brown placed athletes with big bodies from urban settings on Third Floor Perkins to deter crime and to befriend and to protect less imposing dorm mates. Brown was strapped for cash and I’m guessing they decided to transfer the added security risk to us large students.

If true, it’s twisted irony. Outside of a few notable exceptions, Brown made large, male, heterosexual athletes feel unwelcome. The implied message was clear; presence and physical gifts are not significant, memory and brain power are. Most faculty and staff stereotyped us. They inferred our physicality was the key factor in gaining admittance. They assumed we were inferior students, yet placed us in a disadvantageous location to study so our physical gifts could help secure the campus.

It was edifying seeing friendly Bake preparing his contact lenses every morning. Bake and his roommate, Robinson “Robby” Alston were from the Bronx, and they were likeable – cool, yet eager to smile. I think Rob could bench press more than anyone on our freshman football team. He played nose guard with a gracious spirit. Bake was a basketball recruit. He was about 6’3” with natural calm. Nothing bothered Bake. He just kept plodding, and observing. I noticed him shaking his head once and guessed he was wondering how a third floor contemporary gained admission to Brown.

At least once a weekend our dorm was cleared at 3 AM when a hockey recruit returned to his room and, drunk beyond cognition, triggered the fire alarm. His behavior changed a Providence Fire Department policy with Brown. Prior to Scott, the fire department never charged Brown for false alarm responses.

I observed and admired Bake over four years. Although we did not share living space after freshman year, we remained friends. He played varsity basketball. He has a great perspective, and an imposing presence. I figured he would go to law school, or return to NYC and carve a unique career. He seemed to have a beacon directing him. He was always in control, and always moving forward.

About a year ago, and thanks to Face book, Bake and I reconnected. I learned he returned to NYC, married his Brown sweetheart, Jessica, and has two children. He’s worked for Manhattan’s Department of Transportation and its Department of Finance for most of his career. He started his MBA at NYU’s Stern School, found the students beyond cut throat, the antithesis of his valued teamwork, and left. A crisis prompted Bake to return to school and to receive his MBA from Baruch College. When we talked for the first time in twenty four years, I was reminded of his eloquent speech and thoughtful insights.

We exchanged pleasantries, caught up with each other’s lives, and committed to stay in touch. Based on our initial conversations, Bake’s life appeared to meet his expectations and my anticipations for him. After reading the blog about my son’s hip disease and surgery last year, Bake shared his Cross with me. This deepened our friendship and opened new communication levels.

In 1998 Bake McBride was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (MS).

Multiple sclerosis (abbreviated MS, also known as disseminated sclerosis or encephalomyelitis disseminata) is an autoimmune condition where the immune system attacks the central nervous system, leading to demyelination. The disease onset usually occurs in young adults. It is more common in females. Its prevalence ranges between 2 and 150 per 100,000. MS was first described in 1868 by Jean-Martin Charcot.

MS affects the brain and spinal cords’ nerve cell ability to communicate with each other. Nerve cells communicate by sending electrical signals called action potentials down long fibers called axons. These are wrapped in an insulating substance called myelin. In MS, the body's own immune system attacks and damages the myelin. When myelin is lost, the axons can no longer conduct signals. The name multiple sclerosis refers to scars (scleroses – better known as plaques or lesions) in the white matter of the brain and spinal cord. This is mainly composed of myelin. Although much is known about disease process mechanisms, the cause remains unknown. Theories include genetics or infections and different environmental risk factors.

Almost any neurological symptom can appear with the disease, and often progresses to physical and cognitive disability. MS takes several forms, with new symptoms occurring either in discrete attacks (relapsing forms) or slowly accumulating over time (progressive forms). Between attacks, symptoms may go away completely, but permanent neurological problems often occur, especially as the disease advances.

There is no known cure for MS. Treatments attempt to return function after an attack, prevent new attacks, and prevent disability. MS medications can have adverse effects or be poorly tolerated. Many patients pursue alternative treatments, despite the lack of supporting scientific study. The prognosis is difficult to predict. It depends on the subtype of the disease, the individual patient's disease characteristics, the initial symptoms and the degree of disability the person experiences as time advances. Life expectancy of patients is nearly the same as that of the unaffected population.

In 1997 Bake’s legs tingled. At first, he was bothered, yet not too concerned. Over time, the searing jolts intensified. The pain and anticipation prompted him to undergo a battery of tests, including an MRI and an EMG. The tests returned negative. Symptoms continued through 1997 with no conclusion.

In 1998 Bake experienced Optic Neuritis; he lost vision in one eye caused by the swelling and destruction of the myelin sheath covering the optic nerve. The most common etiology is MS. Up to 50% of patients with MS will develop an episode of optic neuritis, and 20% of the time optic neuritis is the presenting sign of MS. Bake received his diagnosis.

At first, he was in denial. As an athlete, Bake always prided himself on controlling his body, his emotions, and his destiny. He felt strong, and kept working out. His identity was wrapped in his physical prowess and gifted agility. As he experienced significant strength loss, Bake’s denial shifted to resistance.

Bake, who once flew through the air to knock down slam dunks, must now give his feet instructions to walk. At Virginia Beach one recent summer, he was rescued from the waves after his body failed to respond to his brain’s command to get his face and body out of the water.

Feeling his body fail forced Bake to acknowledge, perhaps for the first time, lost control. Accepting and managing MS is the hardest, albeit most affirming, challenge in Bake’s life. He constantly proves to himself he’s much stronger, mentally and emotionally, than he ever fathomed. This acceptance has spawned emotional growth and empathy for others.

Prior to his affliction, Bake was less tolerant of people who appeared to be overwhelmed and halted by what he perceived as “normal” (failings or obstacles causing dissatisfaction with health, friends and family, recreation, romance, finance, career, living conditions, or spiritual /emotional well being) setbacks. He assumed they used these challenges as excuses to blame or to wait to be rescued.
He felt they should, as his mom preached: “pick themselves up and get on with getting on”.

Now Bake identifies and empathizes with people struggling with life’s unexpected changes. He figures they may be suffering like him, from a somewhat disguised mental or neurological malady, and he accepts them. He hopes for them. Because of this, his mother in law states she likes Bake more now than before his diagnosis.

How does Bake maintain his incredible calm, focus and positive outlook first admired on Perkins Hall 28 years ago? The MS gave him a renewed appreciation for life’s miracles. He’s more attuned to laugher, beautiful days, coincidence, consideration, art, music, family, and friends. His MS allows him to apply his considerable focusing abilities to be present, to compartmentalize more temporal concerns like finances and work, to address his body’s needs.

According to Bake, his mom resembled a drill instructor. She did not tolerate failure. She demanded her children to plow through problems, to avoid self pity and to keep moving forward. There are many challenges in Bake’s family. Jessica is a breast cancer survivor. Bake’s brother is 6’8” and was a basketball marvel with NBA potential before blowing out both knees and a shoulder. One sister has colitis. Another sister suffered partial, permanent, hearing loss at sixteen months. His siblings were not allowed to wallow in misfortune. All were expected to explore options, to choose a path, and to get on with life. They all evolved into productive citizens.

Post script: When I spoke with Bake for this article, he and his ninety six year old father just watched Obama’s inauguration. Due to the color of his skin, and while being raised in South Carolina, Bake’s father experienced legal segregation, suffering, and limited opportunities in America during the first half of his life, before moving to New York City. Bake stated his father just shook his head in wonder as Obama took the Oath of Office, amazed at this symbolic correction of social ills. My hope is Bake will one day experience similar elation when an MS cure is discovered. Merck is in the process of gaining FDA approval for a promising MS treatment. In the interim, Bake will be energized with his new grandson, Cash.

Championship Rings

Expected: Today, the Arizona Cardinals or the Pittsburgh Steelers will be crowned Super Bowl Champions – football’s ultimate prize. To recognize this achievement, the winning team members will receive championship rings.

Doubt: Is it possible to connect a football championship ring with its rightful owner after more than 31 years?

Trials: Bernie Tiger, www.serenitysjourney.com, was mentioned in my October 2007 blog. We attended high school together in NJ and reconnected in 2004 after crossing paths at our respective child’s middle school orientation. Bernie’s son and my eldest daughter are in the same class at our Massachusetts regional middle / high school, attended by students from three abutting towns. Our meeting is Providence.

It’s hard to avoid Bernie. He was the tallest person in the auditorium, and he looked somewhat familiar despite adding a few requisite pounds. A few days later, I saw him at a Blockbuster Video store. We stared at each other. I nodded, and said to myself: “man, this guy looks like Bernie Tiger”, but figured it was just a striking resemblance; Bernie’s being in the area was too improbable. Plus, I side stepped my daughters’ mortification and subsequent wrath by not greeting Bernie, his son and friends.

After Blockbuster, I returned to my office and received an email from Bernie. He wrote he saw me at the orientation and at Blockbuster, then did a web search and saw it was, in fact, me. He reintroduced himself and asked if I’d remembered him from Madison. Of course I’d remembered him. Several things stand out about Bernie. First, as mentioned, he is big. Second, he is talented. We were in the same freshman drafting class. Every week Bernie’s work was posted on the board with Mr. Tourell’s coveted “Excellent” comment.

Third, we are football teammates, positioned next to each other in our 1977 Championship Team Photo. We had a unique team incident. I cracked my helmet (a helmet once belonging to Bobby Monica, our Head Coach’s middle son and a Madison Athletic Legend) down the middle against Summit, NJ during this 1977 sophomore year and needed Bernie's helmet. Bernie, and eventual All State linebacker John Dagon, were the only players with helmets big enough to fit my great pumpkin. John played special teams, and was needed on the field. Bernie had less football experience and was eager to let me wear his helmet.

Fourth, Bernie and I were raised by a terminally ill parent and lost this young parent to cancer. We also share transition challenges caused by our respective parent’s remarriage. Bernie's dad had colon cancer and died when Bernie was fifteen. Bernie's mom remarried and moved Bernie, his sister, and his brother to Pennsylvania. Thanks to the move, Bernie did not graduate with our Madison High class. He sort of disappeared. We never knew what happened to him.

As soon as he moved, Bernie and his stepfather butted heads. He threw Bernie out in the dead of winter. Bernie slept in the snow for three nights, looking for work during the day. He found and lived at a Salvation Army for six months. He was homeless.

Transcendence: Despite these significant odds, Bernie survived, and then thrived. He stuck with his passion, music. He played bass guitar in a band. He got a job. He earned his GED. He had the spiritual and emotional tools needed to self protect. He looked around, saw others succeeding, and realized there was no difference between them and him. He knew he could compete in the race. He started testing himself, to see how he could improve himself. Success proved he was good. He belonged. He met his eventual wife. He got a better job. He and his wife had a son and committed to doing it right. He was relocated to the Massachusetts town next to mine. Bernie and I meet for breakfast or lunch, or to workout, about every two weeks.

On January 19, 2009, I received a Facebook message from another high school teammate, Bob Irving, who is two years older than Bernie and me. Irvs is an amazing person. He is full of heart and inspiration. He’s always been this way, and especially since battling back from cancer, diagnosed in 1980. We reconnected at the Ted Monica Field Dedication in September 2007. Coach Monica is a NJ football coaching legend. Our playing field is named for him. Irvs and I trade emails and messages.

After responding to Irvs recent note, I noticed Bobby Monica, who is two years older than Irvs, listed as a friend on Irvs’ Facebook contact list. I also noticed Mark Monica, www.impactpads.com, listed on Bobby’s friends list.

Mark and I are Madison classmates. As quarterback, he led us to our third consecutive, undefeated, NJ State Championship title during our 1979 senior year, admirably replacing graduated Steve O’Donnell, who was then playing for Bo Schembechler at Michigan. Mark and I grew up together. We were in kindergarten together, and shared most elementary school classes and friends.

The 1979 season was significant for me because my mom succumbed to her eight year battle with melanoma a few days before our state championship playoff game. She was buried the day before. Mark, John Dagon, Pete O’Donnell, and I were senior football captains. The love, teamwork, and leadership I experienced during this season fostered my resiliency and prompted me to pursue my career.

I mentioned my lunch with Bernie Tiger to Mark. He wrote back immediately, stating he was helping his dad and mom organize his dad’s football belongings a few months earlier and came across a wrapped ring box with “Tiger”, #79 – Bernie’s number, and 10 ½ - Bernie’s ring size, on the sleeve under the wrapping. Mark was not sure what he did with the ring. He remembered Bernie as a good guy, but never knew what happened to him.

I wrote Mark it'd be great to surprise Bernie. Mark wrote back: “Pak-nye, I FOUND BERNIE TIGER'S RING. The foam inside the box has seen better days, but the ring itself is pristine. Can you imagine giving this thing to him 32 years later? Call me at the office tomorrow, toll-free 866.393.1400 please. Talk to you later.”

Mark followed this up with: “Ring went out today via FedEx Next Day Air. You should have it tomorrow morning by 10:30AM. I sent it Priority so the chance of it getting lost is decreased (never know with these guys). Good luck!”

This past Thursday, January 29, 2008, I surprised Bernie Tiger with his 1977 Madison, NJ High School Football State Championship Ring, at, ironically, a restaurant named “How on Earth” in Mattapoisett, MA, more than 31 years after, and four states away from, the original awards ceremony, thanks to a series of championship – football, telecom, and friendship - rings. It fit. I claim Bernie almost passed out, at least got teary. Bernie refutes this.

Post Script: As I was leaving “How on Earth”, I returned a call from Bobby Irving. His daughter had lost his 1977 Madison High State Championship Ring, and he was calling to see if I had mine (I do) and if he could get some pictures. He’d met a woman from Josten’s who stated she could make a duplicate with ease from photos. Bernie is making the jpeg copies of his ring to make Irvs’ new ring.

KISMET!

Just because it was a tough year doesn't mean we can't be thankful.

It was a rough year.

Watching my seven year old son awake from eight hours of surgery and anticipating his next three months in a body cast was numbing.

Spending dinner with close family friends and reviewing travel photo albums with their beautiful daughter while her best friends, my daughters, were away visiting their cousins in Florida was delightful. It was devastating five days later when her father called to say she'd fallen into a terminal coma.

To lose the last vestige of someone I referred to as a mother die when my godmother died in December forced me to reflect on the passing of a wonderful generation of our family's WWII era cousins.

To see my mother's cousin's husband die made me wish for happier times, when we'd spend every Christmas Eve together.

To hear my first friend describe how most of the black kids from our NJ neighborhood died young makes me question community in America.

To learn two admired Brown classmates; one a freshman hall mate who evolved into an Ivy basketball star and the other a fraternity brother and football teammate, our star quarterback, diagnosed with MS and advanced lung cancer, respectively, was unbelievable given their devotion to life and health.

Reading about a once great firm, where my father toiled as an honest stockbroker for thirty five years only to leave in disgust when its senior executive mandated selling very suspect investment vehicles responsible for its ultimate demise, was surreal.

To see once vaunted security firms and banks, many with whom I verified and facilitated transactions during my college summer job, topple like dominoes was disheartening, and infuriating.

To see executives prosper under very little government regulation, and then to see them expect a government bailout because their firms' massive sizes, thanks to growth fostered by deregulation, forced no other alternative, makes me very suspect and condemning of the leadership in our country.

To see the CEO's of Chrysler, GM, and Ford, beg for a bailout after pushing gas guzzling products on American markets was a joke.

To hear a governor attempt to sell a senate seat was shocking.

To read a man swindled fifty billion dollars ($50,000,000,000) from his friends, clients, and charitable foundations is unimaginable. To realize the SEC and internal auditors let this perpetuate is reprehensible.

To watch: my son suffer, our friends go into shock over the loss of their daughter, my father shake his head, our family mourn, my hometown wash its hands of its needy, my classmates struggle, our society tailspin from the character flaws of its leaders is painful.

But there is hope.

My son is walking, running, and wrestling. The love and skill his surgeon and therapists, family, teachers, friends, and classmates expressed demonstrated great community, and fostered his resiliency.

Our friends' son is applying to, and qualified to attend, the best universities in the nation. His capacity to function at his high level in the wake of losing his sister is remarkable.

Our extended family added three new babies in the past year, laying groundwork for a new era of cousins.

My classmates are moving forward, exploring possible solutions and committing themselves to being in the moment; appreciating life day to day. The former basketball star's mother in law stated she likes him better now. He empathizes with, rather than critiques, those struggling.

Teammates returned from around the globe to spend time with our quarterback, and to watch the Brown Bears beat Harvard on Brown's march to an Ivy League Football Title.

Related to this, I met with a Japanese college fraternity brother for the first time in twenty five years when our business schedules connected us in San Francisco.

Our nation elected its first African American President. I was in Ireland on business during the election. Before the election, Irish people asked me about the candidates and expressed great fear and concern about Obama. After the election, every Irish person I spoke with was very excited about Obama and wished similar change would bestow Ireland. They stated America is great.

If anything, I hope Obama's election will give future generations of black men, unlike those from my old neighborhood who died young, a sense of direction and inspiration; to become contributors and problem solvers.

Thanks to faulty character and leadership, a slate is cleaned. Opportunity and scrutiny will welcome new leaders, and my hope is entrepreneurship and enterprise will again spark great innovation and opportunity in our nation.

I am inspired by my clients who make great things and provide great services. They spawn new markets and cultivate innovative opportunities.

I am thankful for my beautiful family and wonderful friends. If you are reading this, you fall into one of these two categories.

Grace, hope, faith, and love carried us through some very dark times in 2008. My Christmas and New Years Wish is for these good traits to bless you and your family so we may continue to grow and solve problems.

Where are the Leaders?

Just because someone is in a powerful position doesn't mean he or she is a leader.

Given:

I am very thankful I was born and raised in America. I can't think of a better place to live or a better system wherein to raise my family.

My great grandfather Julius was a Lithuanian immigrant. His first boss assaulted him while pushing Julius to a production record laying railroad tracks. After being stuck with a long pin in his backside, Julius, nicknamed "Bear" for his 18.5 inch neck, arms, and calves, turned and cold-cocked his abusive foreman.

Fearing deportation, or worse, Julius sprinted to his sponsor's apartment (in those days, in order to gain entry to the United States, immigrants had to pass rigorous physical exams and be supported by a family whose innate incentive was to make the new person self sufficient).

Hiding and shaking in his closet, the police arrived and escorted Julius to the courts where his sponsor and interpreter explained to the judge my ancestor's defense. The foreman, with his mangled nose and face, explained his side of the story.

The judge turned to the foreman and reprimanded him for assaulting a good worker, for creating a hostile environment. The judge stated new members of our society should be treated as our country's finest resources.

The judge then turned to Julius and told him his acts were justified. The judge also apologized for the foreman's abusive acts. In response, Julius stated, and repeated throughout his life: "this is a great county!"

Julius became a successful real estate investor and developer.

He raised four children, and became his community's patriarch, building its church, community center, and school.

Why do I share this story?

Doubt:

The collective goodness of our society is under scrutiny these days.

Trials:

Crisis in the financial sector, and the government's bailout, makes us question these leaders' character and competence. How could these firms' leaders be so incompetent? Would it be more prudent for governing bodies to monitor these investment firms and prevent collapse prior to bailing them out? Why bail them out if the firms were allowed to conduct business with little or no regulation?

Major flaws in presidential and vice presidential candidates highlight flaws in their selection process, and the media's integrity.

Even one of my former employers, a venerable football coach who preached humility, is being attacked for putting his ego and inability to step down ahead of the team's well being.

My corporate clients refer their very qualified family members to me for career coaching. We develop creative solutions despite the lack of opportunities stemming from poor leadership.

Few free enterprise opportunities are found in states where the government is the largest employer. Companies do not flock to areas where taxes and utilities are high, where labor is contentious, and where the legislature has a bad reputation.

As a nation, it feels like we are being stuck in our collective backsides by corrupt people in powerful positions. Yet, as in Julius' case, there appears to be no wise and benevolent leader protecting our interests.

In the brief time since my great grandfather came to the United States, its leadership seems to have deteriorated. The good traits trusted institutions taught, and my neighbors practiced, included selflessness, honesty, self criticism, and humility. They are overshadowed by current stories describing corporate greed, narcissism, selfishness, lies, and self promotion. Following suit, these behaviors appear more often in society.

Corporations are not totally at fault. The country's purported best universities teach, and demonstrate, a comparable pattern of short term, selfish acts, but they are not reported. When new university, and other "not for profit", presidents are selected, rather than demonstrate true leadership and be expected to solely influence their new constituents, they bring in henchmen, just like their weak corporate counterparts, to invoke fear and retribution for anyone not toeing the party line.

This is the antithesis of leadership, and I hear about it every week. This practice creates lemmings, and ultimate failure. Real iconoclasts are cast aside. These communities create followers who sound the same, look the same, and think the same. Actually, they don't think, they regurgitate. Crisis, exemplified by disasters in The Space Shuttle, in The Big Dig, and now on Wall Street, ensues.

Transcendence:

So what's the answer?

In Julius' era, there was a clearer sense of truth, or agreement on what was right and wrong. Clear judicial goals, roles, and processes facilitated healthier relationships, and fostered a collectived commitment towards common causes; namely, the country's viability and sustainability.

I witness this collective goodness when people reach outside of themselves to help a cause, or someone in need. It's productive, and it makes them happy.

Leadership, to me, taps a collective truth and inspires people to act in selfless and positive ways, with constructive outcomes. It builds more leaders and good results.

And, the best way to select a leader is to look for these factors in his or her past.