The Legacy of Bruce

Some say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. In some circumstances this may be true. Most often for me, the sincerest form of flattery turns out to be storytelling. I don’t try to imitate those individuals who I most fondly remember and love the most; I try to keep them “alive” by recounting their lives and lessons through story. You may have read about my Aunt Lorraine and “Lorraine’s Law,” or my grandmother (MaMa) and her “Turkey Bag” story. Both are great examples of stories about two important women from my life: my Aunt who is very much alive, and my Grandmother, who passed away more than ten years ago.
I share these ideas as I reflect back on the passing of my dear friend Bruce Paynter, who passed away a year ago today after a gallant fight with ALS. As I think back over the year, I am reminded of how many different moments I have thought about or spoken about Bruce. In a strange way, Bruce has been very present for me (and with me) over the past year and in some perspective I have been more present with him than in some of the years before his passing.
I have thought often about his conversations with me before he passed, some at his home, some from his hospital bed at the hospice facility. Not only have I written about them on this blog, but I have archived these essays in a group that you can find by clicking on the archive link to the left and scrolling down for the group of essays listed under ”Inspirations of Bruce.” Just this past weekend, I shared his thoughts on ”Communities Matter” with a group of friends. Take a look for yourself and see what connections you make to his thoughts and comments.
What also has been amazing over the past year is how many varied groups I have spoken to about Bruce: groups with nothing in common, and no previous connection to Bruce, his hometown of Appleton Wisconsin, or his company Kimberly- Clark. For a cab driver in Bakersfield California, a CEO in West Des Moines, Iowa, a group of non-profit executives in Atlanta, or a chamber of commerce luncheon gathering in Lufkin Texas, Bruce has come alive to a wide variety of audiences over the past year! In every case, the “stories” about his life lessons have touched the varied audiences deeply. In more than one instance, my “stories” about Bruce have triggered others to talk about friends or family members who they have lost, some even from ALS. These moments of real connection are not only the outcome of “stories” and conversations; they are the very real and tangible impact or “Legacy” of Bruce.
My hope is that you take a moment and think about a friend, a family member, or even an old boss and reflect on the lessons that you have learned from their lives. As these thoughts or “stories” come to mind, don’t just hold them close to your heart, share them with others. I think you will be pleasantly surprised how many people can be touched by those stories.
I share these thoughts today primarily to recognize and celebrate a dear old friend. I can’t believe that it has been twelve months since his passing. I think about Bruce all the time and am just one of many who miss him very much.

Long Look Garden

Well it was hot and steamy in Des Moines on my recent visit. My trip to the capital of Iowa was prompted by meetings with a prominent grocery retailer headquartered on the west side of that city. Despite the weather, it was nice to be back in Des Moines, this time to meet with new folks and reconnect with a number of executives whom I have known for years. The business meetings went well and the “reconnections” were real treats. It’s fun to get to an age where numerous business relationships have evolved into true friendships, allowing us to connect on a very different level than solely the immediate commercial issues at hand.
After a very full day, I returned to my hotel, wrapped up few emails, and threw on my sneakers for a long walk to get some exercise. Downtown Des Moines has a very well constructed network of walking trails that stretch along the rivers connecting a number of city parks together.

With a map in hand, I hit the trails. I crossed the swollen Des Moines River and headed south. It was a hot and sunny evening and as I walked along the trail I realized that I was heading towards the Baseball Park that is the home of the Iowa Cubs. There was a game that night and folks were coming to the park from across the city. There really is something quintessentially American to hear the buzz of a crowd gathering for a ball game on a hot summer night in the heart of the Midwest! I didn’t have time to go in and watch the game but I did linger for a few minutes at an outfield fence to watch the stands fill. Then, I returned to my trail map and my walk. After about an hour I had made my way back to the hotel but wasn’t quite ready to dive back into the unread emails. On I went across the street to continue on the trail and immediately entered a garden. Pinks, yellows, purples…flowers of many shades were on both sides of the path and for about a hundred yard the path wound its way through this beautiful garden on the banks of the Des Moines River. Unexpected beauty to say the least!

At the end of the garden was a small plaque that announced that the garden was sponsored by Pioneer Hi-Bred International, a seed company based in Iowa. It referenced that this was the “Long Look Garden,” honoring its long held business philosophy of taking a “long look” at business opportunities, challenges and decisions. Enough said, I quickly returned to the hotel to find out more! What follows is copied from the Pioneer Hi-Bred website:

The Pioneer way of doing business

The “Long Look," originally written in 1952, reflects our business philosophy, one that had evolved since our incorporation in 1926. While we have added and subtracted many products and services from our core seed corn business over the years, our “Long Look” business philosophy has remained constant.
1. We strive to produce the best products on the market.
2. We deal honestly and fairly with our employees, customers, seed growers, sales force, business associates and shareholders.
3. We advertise and sell our products vigorously, but without misrepresentation.
4. We give helpful management suggestions to our customers to assist them in making the greatest possible profit from our products.



This summary of tried and true business principles, now 58 years in practice, deeply ran true to me. Regardless of industry, category, or function, these four elements are applicable broadly yesterday, today and into the future. I immediately thought about how to share these with my team and how to translate them to our current business challenges. Take a minute and think about how the “Long Look” can apply to your business/leadership challenges.

On a final note, I want to emphasize a recurring theme of my blog essays. Once again from an unexpected source – a walk through a garden on a steamy summer evening in Des Moines – I found a moment of inspiration that made an impact on me and a connection to my current business challenges. It’s rarely convenient to take a few moments (never mind an hour for a walk) away from the pressing nature of business, but I continue to be amazed at how much there is to learn when I slow down enough for a moment of reflection that might include reading a plaque on the banks of the Des Moines river.

Lessons from a Florida Turnpike

I think that it should be obvious by now that a recurring theme of my essays is that insight/wisdom/perspective often occur in moments where we least expect it. While I have written about those moments occurring in a customs line, a car ride with my grandmother, (and a museum in Paris,) I recently had another occur at a rest area on a Florida turnpike.
After a busy morning of customer meetings, I dropped a colleague off at the Orlando airport and began a drive across the state, working my way to West Palm Beach. I was on the phone non-stop, moving from one conference call to another and I found myself in mid-afternoon, having not eaten lunch, and needing a break. I was making good time so instead of the typical drive-thru stop, I decided to go into the McDonald’s to take a break for a few minutes and eat my lunch inside the rest stop. Blackberry in hand, I sat down to eat and catch up on emails.
The restaurant was pretty empty being mid-afternoon, but after a few minutes a grandfather arrived with a handful of grandkids (both boys and girls, maybe 4-7 years old) in tow to buy them an afternoon treat. A collection of ice cream cones and milk shakes arrived and the kids sat down in the booth next to me to devour their sweet treats. My attention was so focused on the kids that I totally missed the middle aged couple that came in to the restaurant, with the man (husband?) heading to the bathroom and the woman (wife?) heading to the counter to order. No one missed the following scene. The woman had the bag of food in her hand as the fellow came out of the bathroom and asked some sort of terse question. Without a reply, she handed over the bag. Upon looking inside, the man shouted “You are so stupid, you never get it right!” and proceeded to smash the bag of newly bought food into trash bin and stomp out of the McDonald’s. The woman looked up to and saw all of us, Grandpa, the grand kids and me, all silently watching her. She shrugged her shoulders, looked into the garbage can, hung her head and walked out of the restaurant.
I thought to myself that the guy was “a total A@#hole” and went back to my blackberry. Grandpa took better action. The kids were still silent from the outburst and he asked them whether they had all seen what that man had just done. All nodded yes. He spoke to the little girls and said to never, never let any man treat them the way that man just treated that woman. He said that too many women put up with too much from “small, mean spirited men” and that it would be better to be alone that to put up with “that nonsense.” He then looked at the boys and asked whether any of them thought the guy was cool or strong. They all shook their heads no. The grandpa finished his “lesson” with a great line when he said “Kids, I’ve lived 71 years and for me, mean never equals good!”
Quietly, the kids finished their treats, threw away their trash and started heading out. The grandpa corralled the kids out to their minivan, and headed off down the turnpike. I sat at my little plastic table and thought completely about my two kids, Bryson and Marie, and how much I wished they had been sitting with that grandpa, and how much I need to find a way to pass that lesson along to them.
While I will certainly use this essay as a way to share the lesson with them, I wanted to share it broadly on two counts. First and most importantly, the grandpa was right, “mean never equals good!” What a simple and clear truth that all of us should remember more consistently. Secondly, what I had intended to be a 15 minute afternoon stop on a Florida turnpike turned out to be a moment of learning and inspiration. Once again, in improbable spots, amazing things continue to occur!

Whiteside from the Forest

Whiteside Mountain soars to almost 5000 feet in western North Carolina. The vistas from its summit are breathtaking regardless of weather. On clear days, one can see the distant lakes that mark the northeastern border between South Carolina and Georgia, and by looking southwest, you can look into the mountains of north Georgia. Of the many hikes that my family enjoys in those mountains, the walk up Whiteside is certainly one of our favorites and one that we have enjoyed across all seasons.

As we do with many things that we love in our lives, I have tried to share the mountains of western North Carolina and more specifically Whiteside Mountain with others. In addition to family and friends, I have brought groups of work mates to these same mountains. Over my career, I have often brought work groups to various environments (battlefields, state parks, historic sites, zoos, museums, etc.) as a way to physically leave the workplace behind. I have found that different surroundings can inspire fresh insights, approaches and learnings to help face the professional challenges of that time. One memorable trip occurred on Whiteside Mountain a few years ago.

I brought a new team of about a dozen direct reports up into the mountains to finalize the work on our annual business plan. The performance goals for the year ahead were daunting, and I wanted us to work on it together knowing that everyone on the team was deeply concerned individually on how we would ever be able to accomplish the performance targets that lie ahead. My plan included having the team prepare by reading a number of documents, including Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech. We drove to the parking lot at the trailhead which was deep in a North Carolina forest and prepared for the hike ahead. I checked that we had plenty of water, a few snacks, a first aid kit, and copies of the readings. I calmly described that the trail would take us to the top of the mountain (which was unseen amidst the trees of the parking lot), that we would take ample stops, and that we would take it pretty slow on the way up.

The hike itself went very well. We stopped a number of times on the way up and when we came out of the trees onto the summit of Whiteside Mountain, the view was breathtaking. We stopped at a few of the mountain’s natural overlooks, pausing to discuss various points of the readings and to connect them to the business challenges that lay ahead. From one overlook, a team member asked about a distant road in the valley thousands of feet below. I said that it was an alternative route that connected back to town and that it had the most amazing views of the sheer cliffs of the mountain.

An hour or so later – sweaty and tired but intact – our team made it back to the parking lot. In my typical fashion. I asked for the team’s reactions and connections between the readings and the hike. The fellow who had commented on the road in the valley was quick to respond. He asked whether I had intentionally NOT taken the valley road and rather had approached the mountain through the forest. My response was a quick no; the fastest route from town to the mountain leads through the forest and speed had been my only motivator. Quickly he described a major connection from the hike which had been completely unplanned. For him, Whiteside from the forest versus Whiteside from the valley was a major learning. If he had approached the mountain from the valley, seeing the height and the steep cliffs that lie ahead, he would have been fearful of the task ahead and doubtful of the potential for success. Instead, we had approached the mountain through the forest, stopping amidst the trees of the parking lot, checking our supplies, talking calmly of the task at hand. This individual talked about confidence and excitement instead of fear and doubt. Many of the others strongly agreed.

Often, as leaders, our responsibility is to prepare our teams for the challenges that lie ahead. At times it’s tempting to provide “lecture notes” that go into great detail about the difficulties, the complexities, and the issues that await to insure that the team has a complete view. In other words, “Whiteside from the valley.” Try to remember the power, potential, and excitement of the calm discussion in the parking lot, or “Whiteside from the forest.”
I had no idea of this “learning lesson” when I planned the hike. Good leaders need to be good teachers (see the entry “A teachable point of view”) who realize that often the best learning occurs in moments when the students can be open and candid with their thoughts, opinions and insights. It’s a mature leader/teacher who realizes that important insights can and should be found outside of “lecture notes.”

The story of Clarissa

A few months ago, on one of my frequent trips to Bakersfield, Calif., my travel plans became unraveled by some unexpected weather. A massive snowstorm in the surrounding mountains resulted in pounding rain in Bakersfield, closing Interstate 5. If you’ve been to southern California, you know that “the 5” is one of the major routes to LAX. So I changed my flight to depart from Bakersfield – at 6 a.m. – and began to figure out how I was going to get there.

As it turned out, the weather wasn’t the only thing that was unexpected.

The first challenge was returning my rental car. Since Enterprise did not have a location at the airport, or a shuttle from its lot, I checked with the front desk of the hotel and asked if they had a taxi service that they could recommend. Without missing a beat, the answer was “absolutely, call Don” and a number was written down. It was about 10 p.m. when I called Don who picked up after one ring. He was chipper and professional when I asked if I could schedule a pickup at 4:45 the next morning at the Enterprise location on 24th and Chester in Bakersfield. “Absolutely” he said. “See ya tomorrow.”

The morning wakeup call came as planned, and I headed out into a rainy, dark, Bakersfield morning looking for 24th and Chester. I arrived right a bit early to the darkened lot, and waited for Don to appear. As the clock passed 4:45, I started to pull up Don’s number, thinking that there was something wrong. At that moment, headlights appeared through the rain and an old Ford sedan pulled up behind my rental car. As I started to get my things together, a woman in her mid-thirties appeared at my passenger side window. I rolled down the window and the woman asked “Are you waiting on Don?”

My uncertain look drove the woman to introduce herself as Clarissa (I changed her name for this story), a friend of Don’s, who would be taking me to the airport. My options were limited at 4:55 am, on a rainy corner of 24th and Chester. I jumped out into the rain, dropped my rental keys into the night drop box, and headed to Clarissa’s Ford. She had opened the trunk, which was a jumble of shopping bags, some clothes, and a spare tire. I threw my bags in, closed the trunk and got in the passenger side to ride shotgun.

The moment I closed the door, Clarissa...started...talking. She explained that she was a friend of Don’s, she even rented a room from him and that he had been “detained” that morning and had asked her to help out by getting me to the airport. She was quick to mention that she knew the way to the airport, a good sign. She went on to say that she worked nights and that she had worked that night waitressing/bartending and that Don liked her because he worked a lot of nights, too. She was a night person and liked to talk, an accurate self-assessment.

Now it’s not fair to say that the car was “dirty” per se; it was too dark to actually tell. What I could see was a number of empty Sugar-free Red Bull cans and a few packs of Newport cigarettes in the front of the car. Clarissa kept up her monologue as I kept a lookout for Merle Haggard Blvd. (I don’t mean that I felt like I was living a country song. Merle Haggard Blvd. was actually the route to the airport. But it fit the moment.) As she was talking about Don, Clarissa’s voice changed a bit and she started talking about the fact that she and Don had lost a close friend last summer and that it had been tough for both of them but had really brought them closer. For some unknown reason, I mentioned that I had lost a close friend to ALS the past summer as well. (You can read more about that in the blog entry “The Inspiration of Bruce.”) With that, Clarissa burst into tears and chokingly said that her friend that had died had passed away after fighting ALS for more than a year. Unbelievable!

As we turned onto Merle Haggard Blvd., Clarissa cried and I talked about my experience of losing my friend, how much it had moved me and how I am still thinking about and learning from the experience. She gathered herself as we drew closer to the airport and said that she needed to apologize to me, to apologize for lying to me. “What on earth could this be about?” I thought to myself. She said that I seemed like a very nice and kind guy, and that I didn’t deserve her lies. She continued on, in a very sheepish tone, that while she had worked the night before, she wasn’t working as a waitress. She had worked that night, as she does most nights, at a club in town as a dancer. My replacement cab driver was a stripper! I glanced over to take a closer look at Clarissa and realized that she had a turquoise bikini top on under her short jacket and that she was driving with a pair of huge acrylic heels.

Clarissa pulled her Ford to a stop and I jumped out of the car to get my bags out of the trunk. After I paid the fare, she stopped me with a question, “Don’t you think I could dance for a few more years, Bill?” With that she turned a bit so I could see her silhouette more clearly. I was struck by how sad and how candid her question was. Still kind of stunned by the entire experience of the morning, I stumbled over a response that included “absolutely” and “I’m sure for years.” I said goodbye and headed into the airport to head back to Atlanta.

Clarissa and I come from entirely different worlds, and through some twist of fate, found ourselves sharing a few moments together on a rainy morning in Bakersfield, Calif. My need for a ride put us in the car, but our common experience with ALS brought us together. To say the least, it was very humbling. As you make your way through your busy and hectic worlds, keep an eye out for the Clarissas who may cross your path, who may make a real impact on you regardless of their jobs, their attire, or their backgrounds.

"Put it on the Wall"

Over the past months, I have been very active in a consulting business that I started in 2008. The work has been a pleasure.

I have worked across a wide range of industries and an equally wide variety of projects. The industries have included: tele-medicine, natural gas, retail grocery, and industrial mining to name a few. Quite a departure after spending almost 18 years at The Coca-Cola Company. The projects/assignments have also been quite varied, including: sales and marketing restructuring, board communication planning, customer value proposition development and executive coaching. As I said above, it’s truly been a pleasure!

One of the surprises over the past year or so has been the individuals with whom I have had a chance to work. On the whole, they have been dynamic leaders, working hard to take their organizations to new levels of performance and in the process to build their own capabilities as executives. While often I was brought in to help these individuals with their challenges, I found that I learned a lot from them in the process. One perfect example is Dan, a very dynamic leader of a fast growing tele-medicine company in Florida. Over the past year, Dan has become more than a client, but also a friend, one whom I have learned a lot from. His deep knowledge of his business, his passion for his customers (doctors) and their clients (patients), and his relentless drive to build and grow his organization (and his skills) are truly inspiring.

I visited Dan a number of times at his office, a very busy “open door” environment at his company’s headquarters. One thing that I noted was that Dan had numerous pictures/ photos on his walls. Unlike many executive offices, which might have decorator driven prints, or possibly company slogans or priorities, Dan’s office had a variety of pictures, one of which was of a small jet airplane. Knowing that Dan was a pilot, I asked on one of my early visits whether that was a picture of his plane. With a smile and a gleam in his eye, he said, “Not yet!” My puzzled looks lead him to share his philosophy of what it means to him to “put it on the wall.”

Dan told me that he has been very goal driven throughout his life. He laid out goals across his life and he pushed hard to achieve those objectives. Years ago, he began to capture a goal in a photo or picture, and literally “put it on the wall” to be an ever present reminder of what was yet to be achieved. Today, Dan is a very experienced pilot (both fixed wing and helicopter) and the photo on the wall of a small personal jet represents a goal for his future. This photo is just the latest of many that have been on Dan’s wall over the years. His wall has contained not only photos of potential personal goals, but of business targets and objectives that he and his organization have yet to achieve.

I recently applied this approach in a very simple way on a committee that I was leading. My children attend a wonderful independent school in Atlanta, and its annual auction is the primary event to raise funds for financial aid. I was asked by the auction chair to take on the very challenging assignment of leading the wine auction (I know, tough duty!). After looking over the stagnant performance over the past few years, I decided that the committee needed to work toward a goal of strong growth this year. With Dan’s words ringing in my ears, I held the first committee meeting months ago and communicated that we were going to drive for 20% growth in the proceeds from the wine auction. There was a bit of grumbling but everyone pretty quickly got to his or her tasks. In every communication I reinforced the goal. Every email was titled “The road to 20%.” Every meeting we took a few moments to discuss 20 ideas that might get us 20% growth. By the time of the auction, my committee members were calling me “Mr. 20.” Well the auction was held a week ago and I received the final stats just this past weekend. With a bit of nervousness, I opened the email and read that the wine auction proceeds were up over 19% over year ago. While not quite 20, I was pleased nonetheless. In my own way I had “put it on the wall,” and it had driven performance.

This process of public goal setting, “putting it on the wall,” is an important lesson to all leaders in business. We all have goals and objectives for our organizations, our businesses, and ourselves. It takes clarity and courage to not only communicate them publicly, but to publish them physically. The accountability level goes up dramatically for all involved. It was through the simplicity of the photo of the jet, that it hit me how often goals are set without any public documentation. We all need to work hard on not only setting challenging goals for our teams and ourselves, but to be public – to “put it on the wall” – so our organizations can all share in the clarity and accountability of public goal setting.

"Friday, I'm in Love"

Last Friday was a day full of action and activity. The plan was to drop the kids off at school, quickly attend a little “art show” in my son Bryson’s class, take care of a bunch of work and then wisk Jennie (my sweet spouse) off to a weekend on the beach in Florida (just us, sans kids!). In all candor, my mind was going a hundred miles an hour, trying to fill about five hours of “stuff” into a four hour window…nothing new, just another example of not “being in the moment.”

I accomplished the drop-off and the “art show” well, enjoying the work that Bryson and his classmates had done as part of the school’s annual auction. As I was heading off campus, I absentmindedly tripped on uneven sidewalk and dropped my BlackBerry. “O”! “M”! “G”! My BlackBerry. As I saw it bounce I feared the worst and went down on a knee to see if “my precious” was working. (I hate the idea of referencing me mimicking Gollum, but it wasn’t far from the truth.) With a quick check, I saw that it was working, seemingly no worse for the wear, and at that moment a little girl skipped on by.

Wearing a flowered top, bright green Capri pants and pink crocs, this little five-year-old literally skipped right past me, book bag on her back, heading to her kindergarten class. I couldn’t see her face but it didn’t really matter. Immediately I said out loud “happy kids.” This image of sweetness, joy, energy and optimism penetrated my BlackBerry mania to remind me that “happy kids” was what it was all about… or maybe what more of life SHOULD be about! In a recent essay in this blog titled “The Lens of Success.” I talked about how Jennie and I aspired for our kids to be “happy, healthy, self sustaining productive citizens.” Here I was, kneeling on an uneven schoolyard sidewalk, watching the embodiment of part of that aspiration….”happy kids”

Well, the rest of the day, including the four-plus hour flight delay, didn’t quite go as planned. Not all the work was finished. We made it down to Florida later than planned. There was a 1 a.m. fire alarm at the beach resort. And so on. With all that said, it was a wonderful Friday and a marvelous weekend getaway with my wonderful wife of 23 years... and yet, one of my lasting images of that Friday will be of the little girl, skipping to class, unintentionally reminding one knucklehead (yours truly) that joy and happiness is more important than a working BlackBerry!

As a final note, I want to give a little “shout out” to the band “The Cure” and its great anthem, “Friday, I’m in Love”:

I don't care if Monday's blue

Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too

Thursday I don't care about you

It's Friday, I'm in love

Monday you can fall apart

Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart

Oh, Thursday doesn't even start

It's Friday, I'm in love