the editor talks with you

It is hard to imagine two role models more dissimilar than the man who was my wife’s father and the man who was mine. My father, Eddie Bellune, was a gentle man – wise, tolerant, humane, compassionate. He easily forgave others and could not carry a grudge in a bucket. He made time for me and suffered quietly through my teen years when I thought him dull and witless. One of his sisters told me later that as the smallest of 4 brothers, he was willing to take on any of them or anyone else. “No one messed with your father,” she said, with respect in her voice.

My wife’s father, Col. Preston Hardy, was much the opposite. He was smart, tough and demanding – a lawyer and jet fighter pilot who behaved more as a top sergeant with a family of raw recruits. It is not surprising that I got off to a dismal start with Col. Hardy. The first time his daughter brought me home to meet her family, her father took her aside. “What are his politics?” he asked. “Oh, Daddy,” she said, with feigned horror, “he’s a communist.” Her father did not see this was her little joke. As a conservative, he took it as his duty to show me the error of my thinking. She did not share this exchange with me. It came as something of a surprise that he began to ask about my political beliefs. We were surprised that we had voted for Jack Kennedy for President and admired Ayn Rand’s “The Fountainhead” as a tribute to rugged American individualism. We were proud of Kennedy when he stood up to Nikita Khrushchev, during the Cuban Missile Crisis. After that, my wife’s father became disillusioned with Kennedy’s lack of support for a strong military.

My wife’s father was a strong-willed competitor, a vital trait for a fighter pilot. He set out to beat me in everything. His weakness was cards, which he loved to play with a fighter pilot’s abandon. His favorite game was a vicious exercise called “Spite and Malice.” But when he lost at Hearts or Rummy or any other game, he blamed his family for “ganging up” on him. He would moan and we would all delight in his feigned misery. But it was clear he did not like losing — especially to all of us. We found fishing to be a mutually-shared enthusiasm. When we were in the boat together, we did not talk politics. One summer, the two of us went fishing almost every day. The highlight of the week, for me, was landing an 8-pound bass, the largest ever taken from his pond. He went to his grave never quite forgiving me.

My father’s work ethic was incredible. Yet he always found time for his family. He showed me what it took to be successful and he encouraged me to “give back” to those who helped me by helping others. Both taught us valuable lessons. They made their children far better people.

Are you a maverick?

Get your life off to a profitable start with our new “Maverick Entrepreneurs’ Million Dollar Strategies.” Inspire yourself or a friend with a personally-autographed copy for only $20. Call 359-7633.