Tag Archives: mentor

Bankrupt to “Booyah!”

“The only thing worse than being blind is having sight with no vision.”

—Helen Keller


Today’s story is contributed by Darin Kidd.

I was 25 years old. Bankrupt. Medicaid. Applying for food stamps. Car repossessed. My wife and I were at the lowest of low. Neither of us made it through college. Five kids. I felt like a total failure — as a husband, as a father, and as a provider.

bankrupt

Darin and his mentor, Jeff Olson

Opportunities were scarce in our small Virginia town. I needed help. Guidance. Someone to show me the way.

My Dad? A faithful Christian. A family man. Growing up, he helped others in need, even when we were scraping to get by. He was a wonderful man, and I count myself very blessed. But it was clear I needed a different kind of help, from a different kind of mentor. Life smarts. Business savvy. Principles for success. I went on the hunt…

I found Jeff Olson. He wrote a book called The Slight Edge, among others. What I learned from him has defined my life. READ MORE 

Meticulosity

“When most people are done, my work has just begun…”

—Aaron “Meticulosity” Greenlee


by Greg Hague

In 1960, I was just 12. Remember The Christmas Story? Little Ralphie. The Red Ryder BB Gun? I was obsessed. I had to have one. Grand visions of hunting with Chubby, my dad. One problem … it was July. Christmas was six months away.

I consulted the big man about it. “Well,” Dad said, “Aaron could use some help at the office. Let me see what I can do.”

meticulosity

Aaron “Meticulosity” Greenlee

Aaron was a gentleman in his 60’s. The custodian. The comedian. Cracking jokes with the agents. Everyone loved Aaron. His “office”? A plywood enclosure in the basement. His black metal desk… meticulous. Pens and pencils lined up like soldiers. The surface — polished to perfection.

Dad’s real estate office had cherry wood paneling and mahogany desks. So my first assignment from Aaron — wood polishing. I worked the entire morning. Polished every square inch of that wood. Aaron would be impressed. He would tell Chubby. A bonus for sure!

READ MORE 

My Dad Chubby Was My Mentor

“Hard work spotlights the character of people: some turn up their sleeves, some turn up their noses; some don’t turn up at all.”
—Sam Ewing


by Greg Hague

my dad, my mentor

My ‘no-eyelids’ dad

When I was a kid, Dad didn’t sleep. On weekdays, he’d leave each morning at 8, stay at the office all night, come home at first light, shower, shave, a quick plate of eggs, a hug for Mom, and back at it again.

It was Saturday morning. I munched Sugar Pops. Chubby ate eggs. “Dad,” I said, with a curious face, “On weekdays, why don’t you sleep?”

Chubby peered up from his plate, eyes double big-big.

He said,

“Didn’t Mom tell you? I was born without eyelids.”

I stared into Dad’s pupils. No eyelids? Yeah, right!    READ MORE 

Dads Need Their Kids

Dad was proud. So was I.
I had worked hard to stand on that stage.


by Greg Hague

May 1974. Washington D.C.

Law school graduation. What a magnificent day!
Dad, Greg and son Casey

May 2012. Another proud dad on his son’s magnificent day. My son, Casey’s law school graduation (with me).

I felt like I’d made it in life. Such innocence. It makes me smile today. The ceremony concluded. Chubby left with me. I drove. We were alone.

My dad was normally a talkative man. Not that day. Strange? We drove blocks without saying a word. He then looked over and said, “Greg, would you like to stop for a snack?” I said, “Sure, why not.” I was always up for a snack.    READ MORE