Chapter 22

I couldn’t stop smiling. True to my word, I had almost stopped traveling completely: home every night with my wife. I still worked from the building I’d found to use as corporate headquarters. We bought it for practically nothing and renovated it completely; leasing the space we didn’t need as soon as it was available. Mom was pushing me to look at some warehouse space, hinting we would probably need it in the near future as a distribution center.

I’d had to hire administration people to help keep track of everything. Good people mostly. The law of averages said I was going to find one or two bad apples, and when I did they went away as quickly as possible.

I hooked Michael and Miguel into helping me with charity work. They became involved in neighborhood outreach programs, concentrating on middle schools. They were at that age when the world around them was coming into focus but were young enough to still be reached. I went with them a few times to see them work.

Miguel always dressed well but informally, but Michael went the full route. His standard attire was a three-piece suit, matching tie over a white shirt, his shoes gleaming. He’d developed the habit of wearing a fedora, and I had to admit he looked sharp.

They would talk about general things to warm them up before they got into the meat of their presentation. “I want you to look at us, really look. Yeah, we dress well, but underneath the clothes, despite what we’ve accomplished, we’re still just guys from the hood. Before we started this our lives were on a far different track.”

Two photos flashed up on the screen behind them. Mug-shot photos of each. While they looked at the pictures Miguel and Michael would be taking off their coats and shirts, leaving them in white “wife-beater” tees, showing off their tattoos complete with gang tags.

“This was us before we turned our lives around. If we had kept on the path we walked, we would be dead or in jail by now. We were rivals, so it might have been one of us killing the other. I want you to think about this and ask you something. How many gang members do you see on the streets over the age of thirty, or even twenty-five? Not a lot. They’re either dead or in jail. Is that the future you want? We got out, and you can, too. Think about it. If you need help or want to reach out to someone, you have our cards. Call, and someone will come. It might not be us because we travel regularly, but it will be someone, and they’ll be there fast to help with whatever you need.”

Then it was my turn to speak. “I want you to know that if I hadn’t had a flat tire in a bad neighborhood my life would be totally different now. I’d probably still be a factory worker and a part time farmer. It would have been a life I was happy with, I believe, but I like the one I have now so much more. Not because of the money, although I like being successful, but because of the good I’ve been able to do.

If I hadn’t broken down that day, I’d still be a country boy, avoiding towns, especially the ‘bad’ neighborhoods. I believed what I saw on television, that inner city neighborhoods were places to avoid at all cost. But I did have to stop, and I met an older black woman who changed my life completely. I’d like to say I changed hers as well. Now, despite her age, she’s a successful businesswoman with an interest in many businesses.

“I hired my first employee there: the woman’s granddaughter, a fifteen year old mixed-race child who was nervous around a white man. Seven years later, she’s still with me, a college graduate and a manager at one of my stores. Miguel and Michael became my friends, first, before they started working for me, and now I don’t think I could be as nearly successful without them. The lessons I learned are that no matter what your age and race, you have value. And most importantly, no matter what your background, you can change your life for the better. Think about it.”

We knew that if we were lucky we would reach about 10% of those children. But if we did, and they became successful, then maybe they could reach another ten per cent, and it would snowball from there. I liked to think so, anyway.