While going about my business, I had been observing friends
with whom I had attended college. Since I had wondered in the wilderness for,
not 40 but at least four, years, they all had a head start on me.
I was catching up fast, though, and I had come upon a secret.
The ones who were in the fast lane weren’t always the best and brightest. In
fact, some of the best and brightest seemed stuck back in the pack. No, many of
the ones who were getting ahead had been at the top of the class, but
probably in the second tier of gifted students, solid but not flashy.
What I noticed was that they were the personable ones, the
ones who got along well with others. They were the ones you couldn’t help
liking. In other words, they would be able to go out and bring in work as well
as having the ability to get it done. That’s where the path to success lay.
It was a lesson that I never forgot.
Another thing that I noticed was that I had returned to a
state with two noticeable characteristics. First, it was a state that was on
the move for the first time after suffering for years under the governance of a
shady and bigoted opportunist who had now been exiled to a much-deserved
oblivion. The state was enjoying its second progressive governor in a row, a
trend that would continue for years with some slight bumps along the way.
Second, it soon appeared to me that I had also returned to a
state with great opportunity for a young man hungering for fame and fortune. The
level of educational achievement was still very low. In addition, there had
been a massive outflow of talent during the dark years. Some of it was trickling
back, but it was still a state in which “cream rose to the top” very quickly.
This was a phenomenon with which I was familiar as it was true of the state of military
service as well. It was like coming home in a way.
I was determined to be on the right side of history this
time. That’s why I had turned my back on Riverside Drive and moved a little farther
up the hill. Thankful I was. I had a good job in an honorable profession. I worked
with high-caliber people like Tom Hodges, Jim Vines, and Ron McConnell, as well
as a new administrative assistant named Christie Porter, another gifted and
highly intelligent associate. She was a recently assigned single-mother whom
life tried on every occasion, unsuccessfully I’m happy to say, to beat down and
dispirit. Hers was another professional friendship I would enjoy for years.
One can see where my mind was. As with Orwell’s horse, I
just needed to work harder and keep my head down. There would be time for fun
later, maybe even romance someday. I needed to concentrate on polishing my skills.
Top on the list was overcoming my fear of public speaking. Next stood education.
I read, and also took a graduate correspondence course from Berkeley, doing well
on it. I just needed to make professional progress each day and stay away from
both trouble and distractions. Easy, or so I imagined.
That’s why, one can see, I was so unprepared for the ambush
that awaited. A well-armed intruder had been preparing for me for years.
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