I had the gift of a dad who was a hero to me.
John Glenn, who orbited the earth in February 1960 in the Friendship Seven, came in second in my mind among heroes, men who walked the earth, but whose impact and influence broke bounds that hold most of us mortals.
Glenn’s illustrious achievements would continue, a living example of courage, leadership, and the spirit of discovery in a life of high profile public service, as Senator, foreign relations expert, and vice presidential and presidential candidate from Ohio.
Still, in my mind and heart, Senator Glenn and all heroes, male and female, came second to my own mom and dad.
John Glenn died at age 95 on December 8. My father, the second of my parents to pass, died yesterday morning, at the rich, ripe, ready age of 91.
At our live events, I’d tend to mention my dad, and tell a story that caught the gist of one of his staunchest beliefs, which was “never retire.”
He was a surgical fellow at the end of the Korean War, and began practicing full-time as a surgeon in New York City in 1950. At age 63, some 43 years later, he retired as a surgeon, and that began a second leg of his career. He did a stint as a surveyor, associate director, and chief of medical standards at the Joint Commission for Hospital Accreditation for a few years, and then moved to offices of the Veteran’s Administration on Vermont Avenue in Washington, DC, where he served in the office of medical inspection.
When he was asked to retire from the VA at age 72 or so, he certified as an archivist with the Cancer Registry, eventually leveraging his experience and qualifications for a part-time job at Providence-based Rhode Island Hospital in 2006, at age 81.
He was so happy to have landed that job, which allowed him to park in the hospital’s staff parking lot and continue to use a card-key to enter the staff entrance. I congratulated him on the accomplishment, thinking it a bit ironic that a former director of surgery for the French Hospital in New York City would be tickled by employment as a part-time medical librarian. He welled with obvious octogenarian pride.
“It will look good on my resume.”
Heroes come around rarely, but they are in our midst. There are many of them, men and women, in this business community of home builders, residential developers, manufacturer and materials supplier partners, investors and lenders, marketers, real estate experts, and, of course, the ones who do all the hard work on the job sites.
They’re literally ones who make America great–again, and again, and again–and who’ve been doing it for generations.
This morning’s note is to say thank you. Thank you for being willing, like John Glenn, to be courageous, to be a leader, and to lead with a spirit of discovery. Thank you for being committed, like my dad, to never giving up believing in your ability, your curiosity, and your pride in what you contribute, decade after decade after decade.
Thank you for making 2016 a year about continued growth amid continued challenge; about promise ahead, and about what doesn’t ever ever change–which is that people need homes, and you’re there for them. Also, I want to say thank you to the team of people at Hanley Wood who, whether you see their names every day or not, are genuinely, passionately committed to serving you in the unflinching cause of making the world a better place to live.
I plan to be absent from this space for the coming week of Dec. 19 to Dec. 23, and back on Dec. 26. Until then, happy, safe, healthy, and heroic holidays to all.
