MaMa's "Corn Oysters"

 

Now almost 10 years ago I put together a “cookbook” for my family made up of recipes from old notes, handwritten letters, recipe cards, photos and stories that had been collected from my grandmothers, my Aunt Lorraine, my mother, and a number of other family members. With most of them now having passed, it’s a real treasure for me to take a few minutes and read their handwriting, remember the photos, and recall the delicious meals that we as a family had shared together.  It’s amazing to read old letters, one notably from my paternal grandmother (“MaMa”) that recounts her trip home after coming to visit my parents on the birth of yours truly!!  While it included a recipe for “Damson Plum Jelly” (we will keep that one for a future essay), the letter recounts the details of her train trip from Cleveland Ohio to White Sulphur Springs in the fall of 1961.  A glimpse of a time gone by for sure!

 

As I picked up the cookbook today, my eye was caught by the recipe for “Corn Oysters” and the stories that Mama used to tell about them on a holiday table.  My father (recently passed), and his father Loche Andrew Livesay (yes, that’s not a mis-spelling of the last name, again a topic for a future essay) loved this dish, and Mama would describe how my grandfather would silently dive into a plate of “Corn Oysters” with such fervor and intensity that he would break out into a sweat right there at the dining room table.  While I can “neither confirm nor deny” that I have followed in my grandfather’s footprints over a delicious meal, my grandmother’s story still rings in my ears now over 15 years since her passing.

 

Give the recipe a try; I plan to as part of a Christmas meal featuring a baked Ham and Mama’s “One Hour Buttermilk Rolls”.  The holidays are a special time to enjoy with families and friends, and to remember those who have passed and celebrate their lives with memories, stories and maybe a few recipes!  I hope you and your family will enjoy these “Corn Oysters” as much as my family has over the years, and I wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New year!

 

 

A Hero, an Inspiration, and an Optimist

With the passing of Nelson Mandela late last week, it is more than appropriate to take a moment and reflect on and celebrate the impact of this unique man. In previous essays, I have highlighted the inspiration and impact of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., as well as the struggle and the impact of Aung San Suu Kyi. Here, once again, we have an individual who has fought against injustice, faced amazing personal and physical persecution, and ultimately has played a huge personal role in changing our world.


Over the weekend I was talking to some old friends who reflected on those days in early 1990 when Nelson Mandela was released after 27 years of prison and vowed that Apartheid had no future and that “It has to be ended by our mass action. We have waited too long for our freedom.” Well, end it certainly did in a flood of changes that swept the world after the fall of the Berlin wall, the ending of South Africa’s policy of Apartheid, along with a boggling array of change over the past 25 – 30 years. While a lot clearly “has” actually changed over the past decade, we must be careful to not stand back, assessing or watching the world in the third person almost as a passive spectator! We need to be reminded that these changes have ALL come about by the beliefs, actions, and sacrifices of individuals and groups of people, all over the world, inspired by the spark of heroes like Nelson Mandela.


It was over 30 years ago, when my wife Jennie and I were students at college (The College of Wooster, class of ’83) that the issue of South African apartheid and the “divestiture “ campaign was sweeping across campuses coast to coast. Jen received a message this past weekend from a fellow classmate now living in India reflecting on how a group of students our senior year at Wooster met with the board of Trustees to call for the College to divest all investments in corporations doing business in South Africa. It was hugely controversial at the time in the fall of 1982, with the board of trustees pushing back hard on the students asking for change, unsure at that time whether Nelson Mandela was an inspiration or a terrorist. Jen is now a trustee herself, and once again it’s amazing to reflect just how much has changed in 30 years. Not passively like spectators, but inspired anew by the same individual, Nelson Mandela.

As I close today’s essay with the thoughts of Mandela’s impact on OUR world today, I want to share one trait of Mandela’s that truly seems beyond the potential of most of us…. that is his unending optimism. Think about it, he spent 27 years in prison, many in solitary confinement on Robbens Island, the Alcatraz of South Africa. Many years spent doing hard labor in the prison quarry, all for his vocal leadership of the ANC and his fight against the ruthless system of Apartheid in South Africa. He exits prison in early 1990 and begins a process with the leaders of South Africa, some of whom were his former jailors, to begin “truth and reconciliation” hearings to prepare the nation of South Africa for elections. No bloody retribution. No trials of individuals for “crimes against humanity.” He and then President de Klerk working together to frame a new “post-Apartheid” South Africa; absolutely amazing and hugely fueled by his unending optimism for the future. Mandela is quoted as saying that,

“I am fundamentally an optimist. Whether that comes from nature or nurture, I cannot say. Part of being optimistic is keeping one's head pointed toward the sun, one's feet moving forward. There were many dark moments when my faith in humanity was sorely tested, but I would not and could not give myself up to despair. That way lays defeat and death.”

May we all be inspired today to keep our “head pointed toward the sun” and to keep our “feet moving forward” as we face the challenges in our world today. Injustice, poverty, and inequality are not realities of the past, but are real challenges that WE face today across the world and in our neighborhoods closer to home. Let us continue to take inspiration from Nelson Mandela to take an active part in creating a future that he would be proud of!

A Return to Appleton

It’s now been over a month since my dad’s passing, in some ways it’s seems like a long time and in other ways the past month has literally blown by in a blink. My work tempo over the past few weeks has been a bit bewildering, having travelled coast to coast three times with customer meetings in New Orleans, Orlando, Minneapolis, and Atlanta thrown in the midst for good luck. What a month!

Since losing my dad, I have been drawn to make two pilgrimages of sorts, one to my mom’s grave back in Western Pennsylvania and one to my friend Bruce’s grave in Appleton Wisconsin. I don’t know if it’s an urge or desire to reconnect with my memories of those two specific individuals who meant (and mean) a lot to me, or in some way to immerse myself for a few brief moments in reflective physical environments.

Earlier this month I found my way to Appleton, renting a car in that familiar little airport, and heading out to visit familiar sights and old friends. I had a few hours open , so instead of heading straight to the cemetery, I turned south to pay a visit at a charming little cheese factory in Zitau Wisconsin. On one of my last visits before Bruce passed, he wanted to take a drive to see some old sights and to go out to his lake house to pay one last visit. With his advancing stages of ALS, Bruce was well past driving at that time so I loaded him into my car and headed west. Instead of heading straight to the lake house, he directed me to take a rural route which lead us to the Union Star Cheese Cooperative in Zitau. Here I was just a few weeks ago, now over four years since Bruce’s passing, pulling up to that same little cheese factory out in the chilly Wisconsin countryside.

While I was swimming in memories, the woman working behind the counter was diligently packing bags of freshly made cheese curds, a local favorite. With tears in my eyes, I picked up a bag of curds and added a block or two of their aged cheddar, Bruce’s favorite. Here I was having a visceral nostalgic experience and the woman behind the counter, while helpful, had things to do, bags to pack, and a large block of Colby-jack cheese on the counter that needed cutting and wrapping. I quickly paid for my cheese and headed out, back to find my way back to the cemetery in Appleton.

The leaves were turning colors brightly and the trees at the cemetery were beautiful, even on a cool drizzly afternoon. I had picked up some flowers and after cleaning up Bruce’s headstone, I rested the flowers on top and said a prayer. I didn’t want to leave so I started walking around the cemetery which sits on a bluff above the Fox River. Headstones of young children recently passed, of soldiers who fought in our civil war buried in the later 1800’s, of grandparents, and of teenagers all side by side. While I came that day to “visit” Bruce’s grave, I was struck by the expanse of human history surrounding me in that beautiful cemetery.

Later that afternoon I visited with dear old friends Steve and Nina, and the next day enjoyed a great breakfast with two other dear friends Donna and Marilyn who worked with Bruce and I at Kimberly Clark in the late 1980’s. Each conversation was precious, thinking back on times past but more importantly catching up on life today; the latest updates on kids and grandkids, challenges at work and at church, plans for the upcoming holidays and future vacations, etc.

I had come back to Appleton to take a moment of reflection as I mourn the passing of my father, and while I certainly had a number of “reflective moments”, I left Wisconsin thinking about my life and the busy road ahead. I was so anxious to get home and see Jennie, Bryson and Marie and get caught up on the latest developments with homework, board meetings, play rehearsals, chorus concerts, etc. Just like the lady at the cheese factory, there were things to do, errands to be run, happiness and sadness to experience, tears and laughter to enjoy/ endure, in other terms there was life to be lived!

My continuing “takeway” as I reflect on all those who have passed before us, (those dear to me and a multitude unknown) is that life is precious and fragile and that life is to be lived NOW, not in some future, post-graduation/post-marriage/post-children/post-debt/post-retirement fantasy but NOW, today, this week, not someday but NOW!

The "Gravity" of Blockbuster

As an addendum to my recent essay “The Gravity of Success,” this week’s headlines regarding Blockbuster warrants a quick note. It was reported this week that as of January the last of Blockbuster’s stores, along with their DVD mail service, will close. After declaring bankruptcy in 2011, the enterprise once known for offering families all across North America a “Blockbuster Night” will shutter its last remaining doors. The amazing thing about this story is not the ultimate success of on-line vs. traditional retail models (though this is a great example of that dynamic,) but the speed of this decline and my personal experience with it that began at a dinner in Dallas in May of 2002.


Now more than eleven years ago, I was in a role that oversaw the Blockbuster relationship for The Coca-Cola Company. We had a team of bright and talented sales and marketing executives working on that business and we looked upon it as a very strategic commercial and marketing relationship. I remember quite clearly being in Dallas for meetings at Blockbuster’s Headquarters in late May of 2002, working on key partnership marketing plans and it was in that bar, now more than eleven years ago, that I witnessed a live version of the concept “The Gravity of Success.”


Quite coincidentally earlier that day, in late May of 2002, Netflix had announced their plans to go public. At that time, Netflix was just a few years old, primarily a mail order DVD rental company, which had never generated a profit. The “dot-com” bubble had recently burst, and many on-line startups were failing. I remember everyone gathering at the bar and the Blockbuster team toasting and laughing about the breaking news regarding Netflix. One of their team laughed that with over 9000 stores , spanning towns large and small across North America and across numerous other countries, who would want to wait for a DVD to come by “snail mail” when you could stop by at your local store and enjoy a “Blockbuster Night.”


In hindsight we all laughed and toasted what seemed to be the folly of that day. But now, just eleven years later, Blockbuster will close the last of their 9000 stores, and Netflix is soaring and innovating to new heights. It’s amazing in hindsight to see how wrong we all were, and how influenced we were by the historic drivers of success at that moment. In 2002, those 9000+ stores seemed like a huge barrier of entry for others, and that the physical experience of stopping by at your local Blockbuster was a convenient and entertaining part of your weekly routine. For Coke, all of those stores, and all of those coolers, and all of those shoppers were pure gold, both commercially and as a marketing resource. None of us that night took a second to think about the “virtual currency” that Netflix or other on-line media sources would someday dominate. We all missed it that night; we were all caught in “The Gravity of Blockbuster.”


I share this story not only to connect to this week’s headlines, but to reinforce that we all need to learn from history, and sometimes form our own history! The memory of that night in Dallas makes me humble and attentive as I reflect on my current work world and our current levels of success. The memory makes me want to be more critical of our current business drivers, and it is pushing me to try to “look over the horizon” at the possible drivers of our current success, our “9000 stores” that may be our Achilles heel in the years ahead. Equally I am attentive to watch the competitive landscape more attentively. Eleven years ago Blockbuster wrongly dismissed Netflix as a competitive threat. Wrongly dismissed to their detriment and demise! What new innovative small businesses and brands am I being too casual and complacent about? Reflect on your own realities as you read this essay and be mindful and active about lessons you can learn from “The Gravity of Blockbuster.”

The Gravity of Success

I had the chance this weekend at a very busy industry trade event to reconnect with many friends across our business. It was a huge success for our enterprise, certainly a new “high water mark” in our journey of dynamic growth and profitable expansion. It was at a small dinner last Saturday night that I had the chance to slow down and enjoy a wonderful dinner with a number of friends, deep industry veterans, where an interesting conversation emerged around the idea of managing success.


One of my tablemates shared that he had recently been at a conference where the chess champion Gary Kasparov was the featured speaker. He shared that Kasparov talked about his early success, winning his first world grand championship at the age of 22. When asked whether that was his toughest challenge, he quickly replied no. It was after a number of consecutive World Grand Championships that Kasparov was faced by a huge challenge that he described as “the gravity of success.” It is the reality that continued success is not inevitable, but has to be “re-earned” in each successive match, practice event, or work session. What made him successful in a past match would not be the key to his success in future matches. He is quoted as saying “winning creates an illusion that everything is fine ….. that after a victory we want to celebrate, not analyze.”


These comments from a chess champion made me reflect back on my own experience, and on my situation today. I have had the chance across my career to experience many businesses and brands that at one point seemed impenetrable and were ultimately found vulnerable. Now almost ten years ago, I was at dinner with executives from Blockbuster on the day that Netflix was launched. At dinner that night in Dallas, they laughed at the idea that anyone would go through the hassle of ordering DVD’s through the mail rather than visiting one of their more than 5000 convenient Blockbuster stores. To put it simply now ten years later, Netflix is now a major factor in the on-line entertainment landscape and the last Blockbuster store near my home was converted into a Smoothie shop years ago. Blockbuster had seen many months, quarters, and years of success, but somehow the “gravity of success” was too strong to enable Blockbuster to find success today.


While there are many examples across the landscape, (i.e. Woolworth, Kodak, Howard Johnson, Web Van, Pets.com, etc.), the conversation made me reflect on my immediate reality. Our business has had a great run, driving profitable growth quarter after quarter for a number of years now. We have built capabilities and competencies as we have grown, realizing that business processes and systems are required in order to support historic growth and enable future success. Now with all of that said, were we becoming complacent? Were we getting lost in our “illusion” that everything was fine? Was the “gravity of success” lurking around the corner?


While it is clear that no one is immune to the tug of that “gravity,” the dinner conversation prompted me to take action on an immediate moment of success. As I said we have just finished a very successful trade event for our company, clearly exceeding past experiences and even our high expectations. Regardless of that reality, the dinner conversation prompted me to call for a “debrief conference call” this week, so we could review the experience in detail and while we will celebrate the “wins,” we will work hard to uncover and identify the opportunity areas form the past week. Kasparov said, “question the status quo at all times, especially when things are going well.” It is with that advice that I am taking action this week; I am appreciative that an innocent and pleasant dinner conversation has led to my awareness of, and respect for, “the gravity of success!”

Ode to my Dad: part 2

Ode to my Dad: part 2

It is widely written that grief is a process, unique to every person, often coming in waves of happy and sad memories brought on by poignant and insignificant triggers. That description of “process” and “waves” is most certainly my reality after losing my Dad, now a bit more than two weeks ago. For me, I have been drawn to pull out old photo albums and mementos, wanting to remember and embrace some of the “old stories” of my family from years gone by. As I was sorting through some old papers in my bedside nightstand, I came across a letter that my father sent me more than seven years ago for my 45th birthday. It was a short letter, written in his clear steady hand writing, from an earlier time in his fight with Parkinson’s disease. After wishing me a happy birthday, he added a few lines of “advice” that made me smile last week, amidst tears, thinking of his good natured encouragements:

“I am tempted to give you a list of “advice”, but would boil it down to this:
• Just continue to be yourself
• Be a leader by your example
• Honesty, sincerity, and your love of people are the route of your life
• Watch out for those “management fads”
• And finally, keep your sense of humor!”


While I am tempted to take each of his points and break them down into action oriented connections for all of us today (maybe fodder for a future essay), I am struck by the authentic nature of his good natured advice. He wanted only good things for me, and over his career as an electrical engineer primarily for ALCOA, he learned a number of important lessons of leadership that he wanted to pass along. I remember clearly how he talked about certain of his bosses/leaders that really knew the work and the team and how that authentic connection made them effective and admired. Equally he talked about other bosses/leaders from the opposite end of the spectrum, more focused on “managing up” or trying the latest management “technique” (see “management fads” above) than really working on the challenges at hand. One story he talked about was of a boss that had fully adopted the principles of the “60 second Manager,” a popular “management fad” of the 1970’s. It seemed impossible to my dad how someone would/could expect to handle a situation in less than a minute, when the technical problem at hand could not even be described accurately (analytically/mathematically) in less than sixty minutes!

As I continue to dig through old papers and photos, I am certain that I will come across more nuggets of insight and perspective. For me the process is not solely nostalgic as the above quote suggests, reminding me today of ways to be a more effective professional and leader. Take a few minutes yourself, either with the “advice” from my Dad, or from your fathers or mothers, or your friends, mentors, or bosses and look for their “advice” on how to be more effective. Not only will it do your heart a bit of good (as it is doing for me), but you just might find a pearl of wisdom to apply to your life today.

Post script: Over the past few weeks I have received calls, notes, texts, and letters from a wide variety of family and friends and I can’t overstate their impact. Each message has brought me comfort and support, and I am deeply grateful to everyone who has reached out, thank you all!

Ode to my Dad

We always worry about the wrong things. Last week, I was concerned about an out-of-town fishing trip, last second details at work, upcoming travel logistics, and potential topics for upcoming blog essays. At the time, it seemed like the appropriate focus, and thankfully, I added to that list having some time with my family and making sure I called my dad before I went fishing. What I didn’t know last Tuesday was that my father, Dale Hill Levisay, would suffer a dramatic cardiac event Friday morning and quickly pass away twenty four hours later. Thankfully, I did indeed talk to my Dad changing planes in the Minneapolis Airport last Wednesday morning, and while he had had a bad night, he was excited about my “Walleye Plans” and wanted a lot of pictures. I spoke to him one last time Friday afternoon as I was making my way to his home in Charlottesville, Virginia, (with the tremendous help and support of dear friends and “fishing buddies” Chris, Paul and Scott). He was present enough to ask about the fishing trip and wanted to know how many fish we caught. Literally a fisherman to his end!

The following is the obituary that I wrote for my Dad early yesterday morning. It is an understatement to say that words can’t equal a life, but at least it gives a brief overview of my Father:


Dale Hill Levisay passed away suddenly last Saturday, September 21, at the University of Virginia Hospital in Charlottesville. He is survived by his wife of thirty seven years, Doris Levisay, his brother James Livesay of Richmond, Virginia, his three children: Mark, Bill and Alice Levisay, his two stepsons Bill and Tom Dunwoody, and his eleven loving grandchildren. He is pre-deceased by his first wife Arline Levisay and a daughter Lois Ann Levisay.

Dale was born in Durbin, West Virginia, on July 2, 1930 and grew up along the banks of his beloved Greenbrier River. After graduating first in his class from White Sulphur Springs High School, he enlisted in the U.S. Navy and served his country aboard the U.S.S. Valcour and the U.S.S. Oriskany. Upon an honorable discharge, he entered Virginia Tech where he studied Electrical Engineering, ultimately graduating again at the top of his class in 1956.

Dale spent a long and productive career in the Electrical Engineering field, most notably working for ALCOA in a number of locations for over thirty years. He was always singularly proud of his executive liaison assignment that took him to Tokyo, Japan, for a few years late in his career. A holder of a number of patents, he is remembered fondly by ALCOA associates today.
After retirement, Dale and Doris spent many happy years in Louisville, Tennessee, and Williamsburg, Virginia, travelling the world and spending time with family and friends. Dale loved to tinker in his workshop, always creating new inventions that he shared generously. A scout master for many years, Dale was also an avid Ham radio operator, fisherman, and a keen gardener his entire life. He will be missed deeply by all who knew him.

In lieu of flowers or gifts, donations may be made in Dale’s memory to the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research. No public memorial service is planned.


Once again, we always get lost in the trivial business of life and always worry about the wrong things. Whether lessons learned from my grandmother “MaMa” (Dad’s mother), my first boss Bruce Paynter, or from my Dad’s passing this past weekend, I recognize that life is precious and fragile! In the end, all the material possessions (the “stuff & things”) of life wash away and all that really matters is the love in your life with those who are precious to you.