David McCullough's 1776 (the audio version, narrated by McCullough, is excellent) commends itself on several levels, but the leadership of Washington and his contemporaries, examined by McCullough, shines against the dark, and near hopeless, background of the revolutionary effort.
Briefly, consider Henry Knox. A bookseller by trade, he used the time on the bookshop to study, of all things, artillery. He did not possess a military background, just the desire to learn and an opportunity presented itself to put his knowledge to use in 1775. He offered his service to George Washington. McCullough describes the events leading to the Colonials achieving the high ground on the Dorchester Heights above Boston, where the British and their navy were firmly entrenched. The problem they faced was no artillery. Knox offered to retrieve the more than 50 guns previously captured at Fort Ticonderoga.
Leadership often means facing a need and determining how to meet it. Ideas are good. The challenge is what is the right idea? What idea is worth the effort? Knox saw the artillery retrieval as doable - not without logistical issues, but doable. His challenges took a different form than he anticipated.
The weight of the guns and mortars totaled at least 120,000 pounds and the journey was 300 miles. The trek began in December, with snow and ice dominating the land. He and his team of men gathered more than 40 sledges to begin the backbreaking trek requiring the use of logs, horse, chain, rope, provisions. It would have been easier to say the task could not be done.
The work was difficult and dangerous, requiring ingenuity to find ways to check and balance the great loads as they traversed over and down hills using rope and chain. At one point all of the guns had safely crossed a frozen river, when a large gun fell through thawing ice. It would have been easier to be content with the cargo already across the river. Retrieving the gun demanded great patience, tenacity, and strength. It required an engineer's mind to calculate the loads and angles. Yet Knox and the men persisted working in the freezing water.
The group found the going grew more difficult due to an unexpected thaw which turned to hard-frozen ground to mud. The pace slowed to a crawl. They persevered. Finally the ground froze again, and the journey eased. All in all, it was February when the guns arrived.
Knox decided to try. He overcame incredible difficulty by utilizing a team of men and their collective persistence and tenacity. They ignored the hardships of winter. Knox urged the men on when it is likely they would have been happy to quit. Because of Knox the British had quite the surprise finding Colonial artillery on the heights above them, with the precious navy, perched at docks, within range.
There are always reasons not to lead, not to decide. Decisions aren't always right. One might fail utterly. One can be paralyzed weighing the options and seeking the best alternative. Questions cry for attention - "What if careful analysis misses something crucial?" "Is the time right?" "Can it be done?" "Will anyone follow?" Knox decided to try - and not give up.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Amazing Grace
At a time when golf news is dominated by Tiger Woods' turbulent personal life and questions about his return, let's briefly breathe some fresh air as we look forward to April's first major.
How sad to read much of the commentary trying to navigate through the news of the latest revelations. Writers and broadcasters and fellow golfers stumble over themselves trying to find a way to make sense of what happened without appearing to condemn. Much effort is made to separate the public life of the golfer from the private life of the husband/father. Let's briefly consider another way - let's look at a man who saw no separation between his public and private life. In fact, it was his goal to live a life which was consistent on and off the course. Let's consider Byron Nelson.
Nelson competed against, to name two, Sam Snead and Ben Hogan, some of the best. He knew well what it takes to be a champion golfer - concentration and consistency. It requires a singular focus. Even more when playing with clubs that were small with sweet spots smaller still and with balls needing to be checked hole by hole for roundness. Contemporaries Snead and Hogan were known for their focus and competitive fire. Neither man was know for his graciousness. Snead, when asked by a guest at the Homestead Resort in Snead's hometown of Hot Springs, VA, for a quick look at his grip in the lobby, billed the man's room for a golf lesson. Hogan, whose playing partner one day made a hole-in-one on a par three, told the man as they left the green, "You know, that was the first time I ever birdied that hole." No mention was ever made of the ace. Nelson was different.
Was he good? He won 11 straight tournaments - a record most think will never be broken (Tom Watson calls it "the 40' pole vault) - and 18 total in 1945. His career victory count stands at 54, sixth all-time, and five majors. He never won the British because he did not like boats and there was no air service to the U.K. during his playing days. His ball striking still captures the respect of the entire golf world and his 68.33 scoring record which stood for 55 years. He retired at age 34 to be with his wife and purchase the ranch that was to be their home. He died at 94, at home.
What made him really stand out, despite being a recognized golfing great, was his gentlemanly demeanor. "I think the thing people will always talk about me is my degree of consistency on the golf course, winning money in 113 [straight] tournaments, but I want to be remembered as a good man and a Christian man. That's all that really matters," Nelson said in 2001 interview with Sports Illustrated.
"Not many golfers live as long as I have," Nelson said. "I have a young wife [his first wife, Louise, died of a stroke in the 1980s] and I don't smoke or drink or run around. In 2000, when the United States Golf Association had all the former champions back at Pebble Beach for the 100th anniversary of the tournament, there were 31 former champions there (Nelson won in 1939), but I was the only one from 1954 back to the beginning of the event. I was the only one still alive."
"I don't know very much," Nelson said in a 1997 interview with The Associated Press. "I know a little bit about golf. I know how to make a stew. And I know how to be a decent man."
Consider the words of his peers.
Ken Venturi, who played on the PGA Tour with Nelson for years and remained one of his closest friends, offered this final summation, which would have most pleased his mentor."Byron is golf's greatest gentleman," he said.
Arnold Palmer said, "I don't think that anyone will ever exceed the things that Byron did by winning 11 tournaments in a row in one year, but I suppose that is not the most admirable thing that he did, although it was certainly tremendous. He was a fantastic person whom I admired from the time I was a boy."
PGA.com's Grant Boone wrote, "Byron Nelson wasn't randomly respectable, not generically good. He was a follower of Christ, and his discipleship dictated his decency, demeanor, decision-making, and the way he dealt with people. ... But Nelson never brandished his faith as a weapon, choosing instead to extend an empty and open hand in friendship to all comers. And did they ever come. Wherever the debate over which golfer is the best of all time ends, Byron Nelson was the game's finest man, hands down."
Cleveland Golf put together a tribute piece you can see.
A man is a man. He is not separate pieces - what he is as an athlete or a business man, or any other walk of life, does not tell the whole story. Success as a whole man is success. One must view the whole man. Check out more of Byron Nelson's story.
How sad to read much of the commentary trying to navigate through the news of the latest revelations. Writers and broadcasters and fellow golfers stumble over themselves trying to find a way to make sense of what happened without appearing to condemn. Much effort is made to separate the public life of the golfer from the private life of the husband/father. Let's briefly consider another way - let's look at a man who saw no separation between his public and private life. In fact, it was his goal to live a life which was consistent on and off the course. Let's consider Byron Nelson.
Nelson competed against, to name two, Sam Snead and Ben Hogan, some of the best. He knew well what it takes to be a champion golfer - concentration and consistency. It requires a singular focus. Even more when playing with clubs that were small with sweet spots smaller still and with balls needing to be checked hole by hole for roundness. Contemporaries Snead and Hogan were known for their focus and competitive fire. Neither man was know for his graciousness. Snead, when asked by a guest at the Homestead Resort in Snead's hometown of Hot Springs, VA, for a quick look at his grip in the lobby, billed the man's room for a golf lesson. Hogan, whose playing partner one day made a hole-in-one on a par three, told the man as they left the green, "You know, that was the first time I ever birdied that hole." No mention was ever made of the ace. Nelson was different.
Was he good? He won 11 straight tournaments - a record most think will never be broken (Tom Watson calls it "the 40' pole vault) - and 18 total in 1945. His career victory count stands at 54, sixth all-time, and five majors. He never won the British because he did not like boats and there was no air service to the U.K. during his playing days. His ball striking still captures the respect of the entire golf world and his 68.33 scoring record which stood for 55 years. He retired at age 34 to be with his wife and purchase the ranch that was to be their home. He died at 94, at home.
What made him really stand out, despite being a recognized golfing great, was his gentlemanly demeanor. "I think the thing people will always talk about me is my degree of consistency on the golf course, winning money in 113 [straight] tournaments, but I want to be remembered as a good man and a Christian man. That's all that really matters," Nelson said in 2001 interview with Sports Illustrated.
"Not many golfers live as long as I have," Nelson said. "I have a young wife [his first wife, Louise, died of a stroke in the 1980s] and I don't smoke or drink or run around. In 2000, when the United States Golf Association had all the former champions back at Pebble Beach for the 100th anniversary of the tournament, there were 31 former champions there (Nelson won in 1939), but I was the only one from 1954 back to the beginning of the event. I was the only one still alive."
"I don't know very much," Nelson said in a 1997 interview with The Associated Press. "I know a little bit about golf. I know how to make a stew. And I know how to be a decent man."
Consider the words of his peers.
Ken Venturi, who played on the PGA Tour with Nelson for years and remained one of his closest friends, offered this final summation, which would have most pleased his mentor."Byron is golf's greatest gentleman," he said.
Arnold Palmer said, "I don't think that anyone will ever exceed the things that Byron did by winning 11 tournaments in a row in one year, but I suppose that is not the most admirable thing that he did, although it was certainly tremendous. He was a fantastic person whom I admired from the time I was a boy."
PGA.com's Grant Boone wrote, "Byron Nelson wasn't randomly respectable, not generically good. He was a follower of Christ, and his discipleship dictated his decency, demeanor, decision-making, and the way he dealt with people. ... But Nelson never brandished his faith as a weapon, choosing instead to extend an empty and open hand in friendship to all comers. And did they ever come. Wherever the debate over which golfer is the best of all time ends, Byron Nelson was the game's finest man, hands down."
Cleveland Golf put together a tribute piece you can see.
A man is a man. He is not separate pieces - what he is as an athlete or a business man, or any other walk of life, does not tell the whole story. Success as a whole man is success. One must view the whole man. Check out more of Byron Nelson's story.
Friday, January 8, 2010
A Sad Response
Herbert Sobel gained notoriety through the publication of Band of Brothers and the following HBO production of the same name. This man, too, bore the consequences of his military experience long after the war ended. Compare and contrast James Stockdale and Herbert Sobel.
Bitterness destroyed his life rather than memories of combat or lost friends. His experience could be anyone's - that is what makes his story sobering. What will we do when wronged by others?
Sobel commanded the training of Easy Company of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment of the 101st Airborne Division at a place called Toccoa in the Georgia mountains. Sobel earned the reputation of a hard driving and strict leader who arbitrarily dispensed discipline and harsh treatment of the men with seemingly no regard for them either as fellow men or fellow soldiers.The Company's website reports the following: "Sobel was a strict disciplinarian, handing out cruel punishments for seemingly harmless infractions of the rules. During training in England, he threatened to court-martial Lieut. Richard Winters for his alleged failure to inspect a latrine at the appointed hour. In response, Easy's non-commissioned officers offered to turn in their stripes out of loyalty to Winters. Shortly before the company headed to France on D-Day, Sobel was reassigned and became commander of a parachute jumping school. Despite Sobel's unpopularity, many credit Easy Company's success in battle to the rigorous standards that he set for his men."
He carried bitterness towards the Company relentlessly through his post war life. The success of Dick Winters, and the regard the men had for him, may have paricularly eaten at him. He refused attempts at communication. He refused invitations to reunions. One member of the Company paid his annual dues for membership in the 101st Airborne association. His marriage failed and his two boys were estranged.
The end was not pretty. He botched, according to Stephen Ambrose, an attempt to shoot himself. Neither his family nor any member of Easy Company attended his funeral.
Contrast the bitterness at perceived wrongs which were no wrongs to the response of those men who emerged better men, not bitter, from their imprisonment in the Hanoi Hilton (prior post).
Consider the words of Christ from Matt 6.14-15: "For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins."
Bitterness destroyed his life rather than memories of combat or lost friends. His experience could be anyone's - that is what makes his story sobering. What will we do when wronged by others?
Sobel commanded the training of Easy Company of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment of the 101st Airborne Division at a place called Toccoa in the Georgia mountains. Sobel earned the reputation of a hard driving and strict leader who arbitrarily dispensed discipline and harsh treatment of the men with seemingly no regard for them either as fellow men or fellow soldiers.The Company's website reports the following: "Sobel was a strict disciplinarian, handing out cruel punishments for seemingly harmless infractions of the rules. During training in England, he threatened to court-martial Lieut. Richard Winters for his alleged failure to inspect a latrine at the appointed hour. In response, Easy's non-commissioned officers offered to turn in their stripes out of loyalty to Winters. Shortly before the company headed to France on D-Day, Sobel was reassigned and became commander of a parachute jumping school. Despite Sobel's unpopularity, many credit Easy Company's success in battle to the rigorous standards that he set for his men."
He carried bitterness towards the Company relentlessly through his post war life. The success of Dick Winters, and the regard the men had for him, may have paricularly eaten at him. He refused attempts at communication. He refused invitations to reunions. One member of the Company paid his annual dues for membership in the 101st Airborne association. His marriage failed and his two boys were estranged.
The end was not pretty. He botched, according to Stephen Ambrose, an attempt to shoot himself. Neither his family nor any member of Easy Company attended his funeral.
Contrast the bitterness at perceived wrongs which were no wrongs to the response of those men who emerged better men, not bitter, from their imprisonment in the Hanoi Hilton (prior post).
Consider the words of Christ from Matt 6.14-15: "For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins."
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Personal Aftermath
I wondered as a boy why my father remained completely uncommunicative regarding his war experiences. He could not hide the scars near his waist as he cut the grass. That he'd been horribly wounded was clear, though I couldn't comprehend the significance or sacrifice.
I did not understand why something so fascinating and compelling to me as World War 2, remained taboo through nearly his whole life. His war experience proved to me an unsolved mystery... It wasn't so much a conversation informing me not to bring it up. It was one flash of anger when I vaguely recall pressing him for information during a car ride when I was about six. And he never got angry. I recoiled and withdrew. I probably took some other stabs along the way, but the island remained impenetrable.
I can never fully understand as I never served on combat. I read. I watch. I listen to interviews. I study photos. But it will never be the same. I am grateful to friends who shared their experiences and what it is like trying to bear the great weight of memories. Perhpas the story below explains one reason some men find it difficult to discuss combat experiences. Certainly the names and situations and circumstances vary widely but this is insightful and hopeful.
A story from the Epilogue ofBand of Brothers : (Photo: Sisk on Left)
Sgt. Skinny Sisk also had a hard time shaking his war memories. In July, 1991, he wrote to winters to explain, "My career after the war was to try to drink away the truckload of Krauts that I stopped in Holland and the die-hard Nazi that I went up into the Bavarian Alps and killed. Old Moe Alley made a statement that all the killings that I did was going to jump in bed with me one of these days and they surely did.I had a lot of flashbacks aft the war and I started drinking. Ha! Ha!
Then my sister's little daughter, four years old, came into my bedroom (I was too unbearable to the rest of the family, too hung over or drunk) and she told me that Jesus loved me and she loved me and if I would repent God would forgive me for all the men I kept trying to kill over again. That little girl got to me. I put her out of my room, told her to go to Mommy, There and then I bowed my head on my Mother's old feather bed and repented and God forgave me for the war and all the other bad things I had done down through the years. I was ordained in the latter part of 1949 into the ministry and believe me, Dick, I haven't whipped bu one man since and he needed it. I have four children, nine grandchildren and two great grandchildren.
The Lord willing and Jesus tarrys (sic) I hope to see you all at the next reunion. If not I'll see you on the last jump. I know you won't freeze in the door."
The Rev.Wayne Sisk passed away to be with his Lord on July 13,1999.
I did not understand why something so fascinating and compelling to me as World War 2, remained taboo through nearly his whole life. His war experience proved to me an unsolved mystery... It wasn't so much a conversation informing me not to bring it up. It was one flash of anger when I vaguely recall pressing him for information during a car ride when I was about six. And he never got angry. I recoiled and withdrew. I probably took some other stabs along the way, but the island remained impenetrable.
I can never fully understand as I never served on combat. I read. I watch. I listen to interviews. I study photos. But it will never be the same. I am grateful to friends who shared their experiences and what it is like trying to bear the great weight of memories. Perhpas the story below explains one reason some men find it difficult to discuss combat experiences. Certainly the names and situations and circumstances vary widely but this is insightful and hopeful.
A story from the Epilogue of
Then my sister's little daughter, four years old, came into my bedroom (I was too unbearable to the rest of the family, too hung over or drunk) and she told me that Jesus loved me and she loved me and if I would repent God would forgive me for all the men I kept trying to kill over again. That little girl got to me. I put her out of my room, told her to go to Mommy, There and then I bowed my head on my Mother's old feather bed and repented and God forgave me for the war and all the other bad things I had done down through the years. I was ordained in the latter part of 1949 into the ministry and believe me, Dick, I haven't whipped bu one man since and he needed it. I have four children, nine grandchildren and two great grandchildren.
The Lord willing and Jesus tarrys (sic) I hope to see you all at the next reunion. If not I'll see you on the last jump. I know you won't freeze in the door."
The Rev.Wayne Sisk passed away to be with his Lord on July 13,1999.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Out of the Furnace of Affliction
The story of the men inside Hao Lo - the Hanoi Hilton - amazes on many levels. Do you find it at all uncomfortable to think about confinement, torture, inhuman conditions, solitary confinement, etc. producing anything worthwhile? Their experiences teach the lesson that suffering can bring about great good and make us better - more like Christ. No one would prescribe suffering for themselves, even as these men would not have either. I wonder whether any of them would trade what he gained if could rewrite his own history and erase the time in the prison cell.
Let's be specific - and I don't mean to be deliberately grotesque - but torture for these men meant (one example) no treatment for serious wounds like dislocated joints and broken bones; it meant their arms being taken behind their backs and tied together so the wrists would touch - the full length - and then they were hung from hooks in the ceilings. The prisoner's arms and shoulders cruelly rotated forward, forcing dislocation and incredible pain. Their tiny cells without beds housed them, alone, for years - up to eight years.
But out of this emerged not bitter, unproductive men. They learned about what is truly important and how to persevere. Many found, at the end of themselves, a waiting Savior to help bear their burdens. Most flew fighters and a certain breed of man flies fighters. They were self sufficient, cocky, aggressive to a fault - and this fit the bill for Naval and Air Force aviators. In their prison, they learned to be different. Determination looked very different and proved more elusive over the duration of captivity. They came to appreciate fellowship with the others through deprivation. Lessons were learned about true servant leadership - leadership which transcends rank and culture; unity which grew stronger in isolation as the thirst for communication brought innovation. They learned how, even in the most humiliating conditions and treatment to not yield to humiliation but maintain their God-given dignity.
Consider these statistics from "Leadership Lessons From the Hanoi Hilton" by Peter Fretwell and Taylor Baldwin Kiland in the November 2009 Proceedings magazine: "The Hanoi Hilton POWs were an unusual and remarkable group. Instead of returning home unraveled from years of abuse, isolation, and deprivation, about 80 percent of the 591 men that Operation Homecoming returned continued their military service. Many later became leaders in government, business, law, or academia. Twenty-four attained the rank of admiral or general; 18 have served (or are serving) in elected or appointed political positions at both the federal and state levels, including as senators, U.S. representatives, Federal Trade Commissioner, and the first U.S. Ambassador to the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. Numerous others served in executive positions in corporate America and small business; many also continue to serve in their local communities for scouting, religious, and civic organizations. Eight received the Medal of Honor.
Despite being the longest-held group of POWs in our nation's history, they brought home most of their comrades without major incidents of long-term mental illness. According to the Robert E. Mitchell Center for Prisoner of War Studies in Pensacola, Florida, 96 percent of the Hanoi Hilton POWs were free of post-traumatic stress disorder. By comparison, a 1997 American Psychiatric Association report found more than half of 262 World War II and Korean War POWs studied had symptoms of lifetime PTSD."
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Old School Tough Guys
Tom Callahan's Johnny U captures football in a generation where working class athletes filled the ranks of pro football teams. These men worked jobs during the off season and defined the tough guy male.His story captures "the life and times of" John Unitas, Hall of Fame quarterback of the original Colts - the Baltimore C-O-L-T-S - from the original cheer. We Redskin fans often wondered if spelling this proved difficult for the Baltimore fans... but I digress.
The story demonstrates the determined athleticism of Unitas who played
both ways in college and came into the pro ranks after being cut by the Pittsburgh Steelers - who also notably passed on Lenny Moore and Jim Brown...oops.
Lenny Moore describes what he saw in his first scrimmage against the Eagles in Hershey, PA (1956): "For most of the game, I just sat ont he bench and watched. I couldn't believe what I was seeing." It seemed to Moore that absolutely nothing was illegal. "Chuck Bednarik and another Eagles player didn't just tackle Ameche out of bounds. They carried him out of bounds and slammed him against a table behind the bench. I said to myself, Man. I can't do this. These guys were beating on guys like you couldn't believe. I thought, Am I strong enough to take this kind of punishment? I had my doubts." Sitting next to Marchetti on the bench was a rookie tackle. "I forget where he was from," Gino said... "He looked at me and asked, 'Is it like this all the time?' I said, 'Hell no. Wait until the league games start. Wait until the season starts.' Honest to God, I never saw him again." (Johnny U; Tom Callahan; Crown Publishers; 2006; pgs.75-76)
Johnny Unitas demonstrated a remarkable toughness, courage, and determination in a very different time. Callahan captures the times and the changes the nation and football would undergo over the next 20 years.
The story demonstrates the determined athleticism of Unitas who played
Lenny Moore describes what he saw in his first scrimmage against the Eagles in Hershey, PA (1956): "For most of the game, I just sat ont he bench and watched. I couldn't believe what I was seeing." It seemed to Moore that absolutely nothing was illegal. "Chuck Bednarik and another Eagles player didn't just tackle Ameche out of bounds. They carried him out of bounds and slammed him against a table behind the bench. I said to myself, Man. I can't do this. These guys were beating on guys like you couldn't believe. I thought, Am I strong enough to take this kind of punishment? I had my doubts." Sitting next to Marchetti on the bench was a rookie tackle. "I forget where he was from," Gino said... "He looked at me and asked, 'Is it like this all the time?' I said, 'Hell no. Wait until the league games start. Wait until the season starts.' Honest to God, I never saw him again." (Johnny U; Tom Callahan; Crown Publishers; 2006; pgs.75-76)
Johnny Unitas demonstrated a remarkable toughness, courage, and determination in a very different time. Callahan captures the times and the changes the nation and football would undergo over the next 20 years.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Others Over Self
One reason so many of the men survived the outrageously brutal conditions in the North Vietnamese prison was a man - James Stockdale. Stockdale, an outstanding pilot, graduated from the Naval Academy a rising star. In 1965, at age 40, he commanded VF-51 on board the USS Oriskany and took off in his A-4 Skyhawk on 5 September. His plane drew antiaircraft fire, was hit, and Stockdale was forced to eject, breaking a bone in his back while doing so. When he landed in a small village, he badly dislocated his knee, and injury from which he would never fully recover.
For seven years, he remained a captive in Hoa Lo Prison, the highest ranking American officer in captivity. He was not passive. He organized the prisoner's resistance against the Vietnamese attempts to use them for propaganda purposes. He developed a communications code for the men made of a simple five-by-five matrix with the letters of the alphabet filling the row
He endured four years of solitary confinement, two years in leg irons, and fifteen torture sessions. But it was his determination and organization which carried the men through. He organized a code of conduct centered around the acronym US (unity over self). His determination and refusal to break ultimately led to the easing of torture and improvement of conditions. For his steadfast courage in the face of seemingly impossible odds and his determined leadership and care for the men in his charge, he received the Medal of Honor. No other three-star admiral in U.S. Naval history wore both the aviator wings and the Congressional Medal of Honor. Check out RETURN WITH HONOR, PBS movie DVD.
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