Chapter 1

No matter how careful you may be, or how much planning you put into your life, you never really have control over things. That may be an odd way to start telling my tale; but since it is mine to tell — so be it.

I was born in a small farm town in the Midwest in 1961 to a farmer and his wife. Named Joseph, after my father, I soon became known as Little Joe. For the first few years of my life, I enjoyed the life of a farm boy. From sun up to sun down, if you wanted to find Little Joe, just look for Big Joe. I was always riding the tractor with dad, or doing chores with him. I stuck closer than his shadow and he didn't seem to mind it a bit. Yes, the country life was good and I was a happy child.

Then as I went through my years of school, I became aware of many new things. Enjoyable as farm life was, the world opened to me via the many books I read appealed to me and I couldn't picture myself as a farmer. They say history repeats itself — and in many ways they are right. Although I didn't know it at the time the scene beginning to play out between my father and I was similar to that which occurred between my Grandfather and dad's older brother Uncle Edward.

As my interests became more focused on intellectual pursuits my dreams and aspirations carried me farther and farther from the path my father desired me to follow. In my rebellious teenage years I once told him I didn't think he wanted a son — he wanted a carbon copy of himself. My father backed off a bit, not wanting the rift opened between us to become the gaping canyon that had existed between my Grandfather and my Uncle Edward.

My salvation from the forced path of farming was two fold: First, my younger brother Robert actually wanted to be a farmer and as he became older my father saw that he was capable and dedicated to the job. Second, when Grandfather died, I met my formerly estranged Uncle Edward for the very first time at Grandpa's funeral. He was friendly and cordial to everyone and I just couldn't shut him out like the others were doing. That evening, after the funeral was over, My Uncle and I went on a long walk and talked for hours. Our interests and intellectual pursuits were very similar and a friendship blossomed.

Later that same week, after my Uncle departed, my father and I had a long talk. Apparently, while going through Grandpa's things, my dad had found a stack of envelopes tied together with nurseryman's twine. The letters were from my Uncle Edward and Grandfather had left them unopened. My Dad had read just one of them and burst into tears. Uncle Ed had tried to reconcile with his father and was rejected. My Dad didn't want it to be that way with us. And that was the turning point in our relationship. Dad agreed that I should be able to pursue a different career and I suggested that when Dad was ready to retire he should let Rob take over the farm.

My Uncle Ed stayed in touch with me as much as possible. Though I already had a great deal of respect for my father, it rose to a new level after he discovered those letters. Any time he could, dad would attempt to include my Uncle Ed and tried to develop a friendship with him; but for some reason, maybe it was just all of the years of rejection, Uncle Ed couldn't connect with his brother or any of the other family members except for me.

I graduated high school summa cum laude and was offered a full scholarship at a respected university. I had purchased a pickup truck during my junior year in high school and intended on making use of it as long as it was operational. I remember well the day I packed all of my personal belongings into that old red workhorse. My mom came out on the front porch with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face. Dad came up and put an arm around me and told me how proud he was of my achievement while mom hugged me and reminded me about taking care of myself. Robert gave me a clap on the shoulder and told me not to be a stranger. I knew I didn't belong on the farm for my whole life; but as I pulled out of the drive it was with mixed emotions. I was leaving my childhood behind and facing my future head on — and hoping I was ready. I thought about it quite often over the next four days of my road trip.

The move to the university was a big step for me. Prior to it, I had never lived away from the farm. Now, though I would have a roommate, I had more freedom and many new ways to spend my time. The early morning hours and hard work of farm life had been a part of my day as early as I could remember and I seemed to have more energy and required less sleep than my roommate. I wasn't certain what to do with all of my time and considered looking for a part time job. My Uncle Ed visited me before too much time had gone by and we talked about a lot of things while he was there.

Uncle Ed took me to a nice restaurant and during the course of the meal shared a few thoughts with me. He asked me how I thought having a job would help me. I mentioned that it would occupy my extra time and bring in a bit of pocket money as well as paying for the gas and insurance on my truck. He told me I might be better off just focusing on my studies. He shared a bit of his college experiences with me. He said he had to work to pay his way through. Grandfather wouldn't help him since he didn't want him there in the first place. Uncle Ed felt trying to study for his harder classes and hold down a job at the same time probably affected his scholastic efforts in a negative way. He understood about the money though. He told me that since I was family, and since he had no children of his own, he'd be happy to help me with my expenses. At first I started to refuse — and then I saw the hurt look on his face and stopped refusing. I asked him if he wasn't going to miss the money and he assured me he had more than enough and felt it was a good investment.

And so it was that twice a month I'd get a check from my Uncle for five hundred dollars. It always came on the First and the Sixteenth as regular as clock work. Although I greatly appreciated it, I didn't understand just what a blessing it was until I began taking some of the advanced science classes. He was right. Just being able to focus on my studies without the pressure to earn money at the same time did have a positive effect on my grades. I made it a habit to send him a copy of my grades as soon as I received them because I wanted him to know I wasn't wasting the opportunity he had given me.

In part, thanks to Uncle Ed, college years weren't just challenging — they were fun! When I did find myself with free time I had enough money to enjoy it. Often a few friends and I would pile into my truck and head into town for bowling and pizza. Sometimes we'd take in a movie on a weekend. I wasn't blind — I saw how tight their budgets were and I truly appreciated my Uncle's kindness and foresight.

I spent five years at the university and in that time I completed a double major in business administration and chemistry. I was fascinated by both and just couldn't decide which one to give up — so my Uncle advised me to complete both. I didn't realize at the time just what a unique combination that was or how sought after I would become because of it.

I graduated at the top of my class again and my entire family was there to see it. It was good to see everybody again and I was really surprised at how much Rob had grown. I'm six feet tall. When I left for college Rob hadn't sprouted yet; but now he was at least six or seven inches taller than I was. He was broad shouldered and strong. More importantly, he seemed very happy and content. So I thought to myself, Dad gets his farmer son, and I get to follow my own choices, and everyone is happy.

It was summer again and I was out of school after a hard five years of effort. I was at another crossroad in my life. I needed to switch from student to employed worker. Once again, my Uncle Ed stepped in. He asked me what I wanted to do for a living. I mentioned a number of various positions I thought I would enjoy. He wondered if I might enjoy a position using both of my majors. I said yes but told him I didn't expect to be that lucky right out of school. He asked me if it would be alright if he made a few inquiries on my behalf and after receiving my approval asked for copies of my research papers.

I drove my old truck home and visited with my family for the first two weeks of summer. Then one morning, my Uncle called and invited me to spend a bit of my summer with him. A few days later I boarded an airplane and took my first flight. It was the summer of 1985 and I was out of school, and on the first real vacation I'd had in a long time. I had never been to San Diego and truly enjoyed the beauty of the place. My Uncle met me at the airport and we rode back to his house in a limousine. His house was on beachfront property at Mission Bay and was quite lavish. I had made good use of the health club at the university and was ready to enjoy the many opportunities for outdoor exercise that San Diego offers. I spent the next few weeks learning to scuba dive, getting a tan, and at my uncle's insistence, getting a new wardrobe. He ordered three tailored suits for me and paid for most of the rest of the purchases as well. He called it his graduation present to me.

One Tuesday morning my Uncle informed me that he would be traveling for a few days and would like to have me accompany him. I accepted his invitation and began to pack for what he said would be a three or four day business trip. He lent me some luggage and showed me how to pack my suits to minimize wrinkles. The next morning when the Limo arrived, the driver loaded our luggage into the trunk and drove us to the airport. My Uncle purchased first class seats for our flight to New York City. By the time we landed at La Guardia airport it was already evening so we checked into an upscale Manhattan hotel where my Uncle had made reservations, ate a scrumptious meal at a nearby Italian restaurant and went to bed early to try and adjust to the local time.

My phone rang at 7 in the morning and my Uncle asked how long it would take me to get ready. Like I said before, I'm an early riser. I had already showered and shaved prior to his phone call. We met downstairs in the restaurant at about 7:30 and enjoyed a light breakfast. Our first stop was a law firm on the 42nd floor of a large office building. My Uncle introduced me to one of his lawyers. Mr. Owens was a distinguished looking man with black hair streaked with silver. He must have been about fifty at the time. He took us into his richly furnished office and seated us in high back leather chairs.

My Uncle was in many ways a very private man. He didn't brag or flaunt his success or achievements; but he seemed to possess a quite confidence in his own competence and ability. In the years since my Grandfather's death, my conversations with my uncle had never ventured onto the topic of what he did for a living or how successful he had been; but now, seated in the offices of this prestigious law firm, I began to wonder. Why, since he was living in San Diego, was his lawyer's office in Manhattan?

After a few minutes of polite conversation, my musings were cut short when my Uncle asked if the papers were ready for his signature. Mr. Owens pressed a button on an intercom and shortly after his secretary brought in some papers and her Notary kit. She witnessed Mr. Owens and my Uncle sign the documents and then notarized the documents and removed them.

After a few more minutes of conversation we left the law firm and caught a cab to another part of town. During the ride, my Uncle informed me that he had taken the liberty to prepare a resume and portfolio for me. He told me that, as I had agreed to, he had placed a few phone calls and secured an interview for me. He said he hadn't told me ahead of time so I wouldn't spend a lot of time worrying about what to do or say. He advised me to just be myself and respond as naturally as I could to the situation. He used the rest of the cab ride to brief me on the company that had the opening.

Once we arrived at our destination, we took the elevator up to the fifty-first floor and entered the reception area of the office suite where my interview was to be held. My Uncle handed me a black, leather bound portfolio with my name engraved in the lower right corner of the front cover. I opened it to find an expensive gold pen and pencil set held in leather loops, a pocket on the left with copies of my resume and the portfolio of my educational and research information my Uncle had prepared. The right hand of the portfolio was occupied by a notepad.

A few minutes later I was being interviewed for a position at a very successful venture capital firm. If I was accepted for the position I would be involved in evaluating various proposals and funding requests. The proposals I would be evaluating would require my knowledge of chemistry and physics to make a sound decision on whether to approve them or not. Wow, Uncle Ed really had found an opportunity that would use both of my majors!

I answered the questions asked of me and when it was my turn I asked many questions about the nature of the work, the firm's history in this area of endeavor, and the other specialties I would be working with; but, as my Uncle had suggested, I didn't ask questions about money or benefits until the interviewer brought them up or offered the information directly.

The interview lasted about two hours. At the end of the interview I asked my interviewer, Mr. Wendt, if he didn't want me to talk with someone regarding my chemistry knowledge. He informed me that he had received copies of the resume and portfolio ahead of time and had already had my research papers and background reviewed by several established chemical researchers. I thanked Mr. Wendt for the opportunity to meet with him and asked if I could introduce him to my Uncle.

When we stepped back out into the reception area Mr. Wendt walked up to my Uncle and shook his hand. "He's everything you said he'd be Ed. Thanks for the tip!" Then he turned to me and said "If you want it the position is yours; I just need to know when you can start." And thus began my career in what was to me an interesting area of endeavor.

Later, after I had been working at the firm for twelve years, I discovered that my Uncle Ed was quite wealthy and in fact was one of the major investors providing the venture capital we managed. I didn't enjoy the way in which I found out though. New York City is a big place and in the twelve years since I met my Uncles lawyer, Mr. Owens, I hadn't seen him since until he arrived at my office unannounced on a Friday afternoon.

The receptionist informed me that a Harold Owens wanted a few minutes of my time. I recognized him as soon as I stepped into the lobby. He said he had a few personal matters to discuss and asked if we could speak someplace in private. I didn't know what to make of this; but ushered him into my office and closed the door. He told me that he was very sorry to inform me that my Uncle had died as the result of a car accident. At first I stood up to my feet wanting to yell at him for lying to me — but one look at his face and I knew it was the truth. I slumped back into my seat and struggled to breathe as the muscles in my abdomen and chest cramped up. I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach and knocked the wind out of me. Mr. Owens got up and walked over to the wet bar in my office. He placed some ice in a glass, filled it with water, and brought it to me suggesting I drink a bit.

After giving me a few minutes to calm down, Mr. Owens told me that my Uncle had left him with detailed instructions regarding funeral arrangements and other such matters and that he would deal with those things. He asked me to come to his office for the rest of the day. I pulled myself together, went to Mr. Wendt's office and let him know what was going on. He told me to take however many weeks I needed and not to rush back. I told him I'd call him after the funeral and stepped out of the office.

It almost seemed as if the weather was tuned to my emotions. As I sat in the back of the cab heading to Mr. Owens office, the dark clouds began releasing a downpour of rain just as the tears began to trickle from my eyes. Mr. Owens needed me to check the list of people that my Uncle had wanted notified to make certain it was complete and up to date. He asked me if I wanted to make any of the phone calls or if I'd like him to take care of it. I told him I'd call the people I knew on the list. He had me make a check mark by the ones I wanted him to call and then made a copy of the list. His secretary ushered me into a spare office with a desk and a phone and I spent the next two hours making phone calls and trying to get the news out as gently as possible.

The funeral would be held on Monday in San Diego. My Uncle had set aside funds to fly anyone who wished to attend, there and back again. Mr. Owens' staff took care of all the travel and lodging arrangements. The next morning I got on a plane to San Diego. On Sunday, during the viewing hours, I stayed at the funeral home. I sat a little to the side near the front of the little chapel where my Uncle's coffin was on display. During those four hours I lost count of the thousands of people who came to pay their respects to my dearly departed Uncle. As each group passed the coffin they would make their way past me often stopping to share their condolences and tell me some way in which my Uncle had touched their lives. At the end of the day I was awestruck, dumbfounded, grateful, and sad. I was thankful for the friendship he had shown me and wished I had more time to get to know him.

The funeral was in a large church. My father, his two brothers, and his sister had talked long into the night and into the wee hours of the morning. Each of them sported a pair of red eyes and I just knew my father had finally told them of Uncle Ed's letters to grandfather. Mr. Wendt was there as were several of the other higher ups in the firm. The funeral largely consisted of people coming forward and telling about some kindness my Uncle had shown them. One young man with tears in his eyes unbuttoned his shirt revealing several large scars on his chest. He told us that when he was younger and needed open heart surgery my Uncle had somehow found out that his family would not be able to pay the bills and had covered all of the expenses himself. Next, an administrator from one of the local hospitals informed us that Uncle Ed had often picked up the tab for huge medical bills for those who would not have been able to pay. The testimonials lasted for two hours and at the end there wasn't a dry eye in the place.

I finally took my turn up at the front. I hadn't known exactly what to say before I stepped up — but as he had often encouraged me — I just decided to be myself and respond as naturally as I could to the situation. Looking out onto the filled seats I told about my Uncle's friendship with me, his lighthearted enjoyment of life, and his joy in seeing people succeed. I spoke of the heartache in his life — the rift between himself and his father. I spoke of the joy he had as he finally felt part of a family again, and I encouraged those present not to sweat the small things in life; but instead to appreciate their family and enjoy the time they have together. I closed with that thought.

After the funeral Mr. Owens asked family members to meet with him the next day in a conference room he had rented at the hotel we were all staying at. Everyone agreed and promised to be there at the appointed time.

I arrived a few minutes before the 10:30 meeting was to start, poured myself a cup of black coffee and found a place to sit. There were four long tables arranged in a semi circle. I sat near the left side of the room. I had no expectation of what was to come. My Uncle, while alive, had been very generous to me. I had no thought for what I might receive now that he was gone.

Mr. Owens took a few minutes to speak with each person at the table and checked their name off on a list he had brought with him. Then he stepped up to the lectern at the front of the room and spoke briefly.

"I know that everyone gathered in this room was important to my client. Edward was not only a client — he was a friend. I was happy to serve as his lawyer during his life; however being here to serve his will is something I had hoped never to do. In his generosity Edward has helped many people. It may have surprised you yesterday during his funeral to see so many come forward with a tale of his kindness. I can assure you that over the years I have seen him touch many more lives than those that spoke yesterday.

I'm about to pass out envelopes to each of you. It isn't traditional — but neither was Edward. He was a man who lived a very ordered life but who wished some of it had been different. In your envelope you will find a letter that Edward wrote to you in 1985, the year he filed his will. Some of you will find additional letters he authored after that as well. Read them when you have a few moments to think of him.

Now, I'm going to read the will in the legally proscribed manner after which if any of you have questions please feel free to ask them; however, I am aware of a rather nasty joke which I hope will not apply: Where there's a will there are angry relatives. Ed knew the joke as well and hoped that you folk would be the exception. I don't believe that any of you will have reason to feel upset; but, however you may feel, I ask you to remain courteous and cordial."

Mr. Owens proceeded to read the will. As he went through it, there were many exclamations of shock and surprise. It turns out that my Uncle was a very wealthy man. He left each of the twenty-three family members in the room a gift of money and some personal item that had meaning to him and that he thought they would appreciate. I listened as everyone else received something and smiled appreciatively as I thought about how appropriate each gift seemed and how it might benefit them. Then there came a list of charities, each receiving a large sum. Then at the end of the reading I heard "to my nephew Joseph ... I leave all of my other remaining money and possessions." I was a bit shocked — he had already helped me so much in my life that I didn't expect anything.

Mr. Owens asked the other family members if they had any questions and while there were some — my Uncle received his wish of no angry relatives. I was asked to remain and after the others had left the conference room, Mr. Owens closed the door and pushed the start button on a VCR he had ready and waiting. The television screen came to life and there was my Uncle Ed. I could tell by looking at him that this was quite recent.

"Joe, I hope you're not seeing this edition of the tape. If you are then something bad must have happened to me and I missed my chance at becoming a grumpy old man — so you'll have to do that for me.

"You may not realize how important your friendship has been to me. For whatever reason, after the mess I made of my relationship with my father, I never married for fear of messing that up as well. None of the rest of the family ever accepted me the way you did. Your friendship was genuine. I apologize if your finding out about my wealth in this way is a bit of a shock — but many of the friends I had before the money came treated me different afterwards. Some didn't know how to act around me — as if they needed to 'act'. Others stopped seeing me as a friend and instead saw me as their 'bank'.

"You never asked me for anything except a bit of time and sometimes advice. If I offered something you would accept it after you were certain it wouldn't hurt me to give it. You weren't always waiting to see what else you might get.

"We had so many other things in common — so much more than I did with the rest of the family. I've never hated them or wished them ill — I just didn't connect with them for some reason. My failure to please my father was a problem between the two of us and not their fault. That doesn't mean that they accepted me for who I was though — and I was afraid to find out if they would 'accept' me if they found out I had money since that kind of acceptance is fake anyway.

"I've seen you work hard and prosper in your chosen ventures — both school and work. I trust that you will make good use of what I leave you with. Even if there were someway in which I could judge your use of the wealth I leave to you — I wouldn't because I respect you too much for that.

"My only instructions to you are live life to the fullest, but don't let that stop you from helping those around you every now and then, and remember that people who expect something from you never appreciate what they receive like those who didn't expect something but received it anyway.

"If you're seeing this tape — that means I don't get to be with you anymore or to see your life unfold as you accomplish great things. For that I'm sorry; but I'm grateful for the times we've had. You know I've always had a thing for sci-fi and this might sound a bit corny because of it; but I would have said it even if Spock didn't.

"Live long and prosper Joe.

"Goodbye."

As the 'snow' engulfed the TV screen, there wasn't one set of sniffles in the room — there were two. Mr. Owens said "I'd offer you my handkerchief except I'm afraid I need it myself."

A bit later he spoke again. "Joe, I need you to come back with me to New York" he said while handing me the videotape. "We've got quite a bit of paperwork to do and you need to decide whether you want to hire another attorney or retain my services."

"If I can afford it, I'd prefer to keep you."

He looked at me a bit funny and said "You're very bright — but I don't think you've got it yet. You've just inherited more than nine hundred million dollars! I think you'll be able to afford it."

My heart was beating hard and fast! "Did you just say nine hundred million?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes I did. Your Uncle was one of the savviest investors I've ever met. Some people think you have to be crooked to make money; but that wasn't your Uncle. He believed in using brainpower and research to ascertain the best opportunities and then he acted on them. You do realize that he was one of the major investors funding your firm don't you?"

"No, they kept that little bit of news from me." I said in a daze.

"Well of course they did. Edward was very careful and thoughtful. He wanted you to succeed on your own so you'd develop confidence in your own abilities; but if you thought you only had the job because of him you'd never believe in yourself. And just so you know, you earned that job and your position — and that made him very proud of you!"

The rest of the week was filled with paperwork and learning about Uncle Ed's, or I guess I should say my, holdings. There were titles to be transferred to my name for homes, and cars. There were certificates of ownership to be transferred for stocks, bonds, and even entire privately held corporations.

Mr. Owens and his team did their best to reduce the tax hit I would be taking. More time was spent familiarizing me with the various CEOs and management staff running my various companies. On Friday, Mr. Wendt made a visit.

"Well Joe, I must say that I'll miss your uncle; but I don't believe he could have chosen a more worthy heir. If you choose to not work another day in your life I'd understand; however, I and your Uncle's other partners would hope that you might have enough of an interest in our operations to lend your fine mind and talents to a proposal or two a year."

"I think I'd like that Mr. Wendt. I'd be happy to help find someone to replace me on the day to day front if I can still stay somewhat involved" I responded.

"Sounds like a plan. Just stop by or call me when you want to talk some more" he said.

I experienced some of the changes in attitude that my Uncle had talked about in his videotape when I first went back to the office. One of my female coworkers who in the past had rebuffed any attempt I had made to get to know her better suddenly was my 'best friend'. She kept trying to make a date with me. I finally just had to tell her I wasn't at all interested and to please stop bothering me.

After a few weeks I had things tidied up at the office and went on a tour of my various properties and companies. It was interesting and educational. Most people seem to treat you with the utmost respect when they know you're the boss.

Once the pace slowed down a bit and I had time to reflect on the new changes in my life I began to realize a few things. Yes, I was a lot like my Uncle in many respects and, though he was smart and well organized, he had still died before his time. The grim reaper must have forgotten to check with my Uncle's schedule. The same could happen to me or anyone else. As far as I knew my Uncle had mostly missed out on female companionship and I had spent so much of my time learning and working that I hadn't had too much of that either. My Uncle Ed occasionally talked about things he'd like to do after he retired; but he never lived long enough. The irony of the whole situation really bothered me. Most people have to choose between money and personal time. In effect they trade their personal time and energies for money to buy the things they need and hopefully put a little aside to prepare for their retirement years. The reason they have to work so long before retiring is that they need enough money to take care of them in the elder years of life. The luckier ones manage to put enough money aside so that they can travel and see the sights when they retire. With my Uncle it could have been quite different. He had made more than enough money — he was set for the rest of his life; but maybe he had been trying to live up to someone else's standards. The only memory I had of my Grandfather mentioning my Uncle Ed came during a tirade aimed at me where he accused me of being lazy like my Uncle.