Jones, W. Randall - The Richest Man in Town - The Twelve Commandments of Wealth-Grand Central Publishing - Business Plus (2009)
Jones, W. Randall - The Richest Man in Town - The Twelve Commandments of Wealth-Grand Central Publishing - Business Plus (2009)
Business Plus
Hachette Book Group
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New York, NY 10017
Visit our Web site at www.HachetteBookGroup.com.
ISBN: 978-0-446-55068-0
                            Contents
Copyright Page
Author’s Note
My American Dream
The American Dream: Up Close and Personal
Who Are America’s RMITs?
RMIT Commandment #1: Seek Money for Money’s Sake and Ye Shall Not
Find
RMIT Commandment #2: Find Your Perfect Pitch
RMIT Commandment #3: BYOB: Be Your Own Boss
RMIT Commandment #4: Get Addicted to Ambition
RMIT Commandment #5: Wake Up Early—Be Early
RMIT Commandment #6: Don’t Set Goals—Execute or Get Executed
RMIT Commandment #7: Fail to Succeed
RMIT Commandment #8: Location Doesn’t Matter
RMIT Commandment #9: Moor Yourself to Morals
RMIT Commandment #10: Say Yes to Sales
RMIT Commandment #11: Borrow from the Best—and the Worst
RMIT Commandment #12: Never Retire
PART III: THE RICHEST MEN IN TOWN
Conclusion
Acknowledgments
For Dad, who made us all feel like the richest man in town
                         AUTHOR’S NOTE
What is the American Dream? When asked to define the American Dream,
RMITs cite freedom as the greatest by-product of their success—other than
the money, of course. Freedom to live as they please, freedom to be a
perpetual student, freedom to use philanthropy as a mechanism to change the
world, or simply freedom to do just about anything their innate, unique
abilities allow them to achieve. Cynics like the late comedian George Carlin
have said, “The reason they call it the American Dream is because you have
to be asleep to believe it.” RMITs really don’t buy into that kind of cynicism
(and by the way, George Carlin also died a very rich man). RMITs
appreciate the humor, but they feel strongly that $100 million or more does,
indeed, buy a lot of freedom and a lot of happiness.
    Jorge (he prefers the pronunciation of George) Pérez is the richest man in
Miami, Florida. The real estate mogul of Related Industries and the most
successful Hispanic American in the United States, he has his mark on
virtually every condominium building with blue-water views of the Atlantic
Ocean. “The American Dream is the freedom to do the things you want to do
with the people you want to do them with,” he says. “That’s success.” He
should know. He fought hard to get here from Argentina and Colombia as the
son of Cuban exiles.
    Peter Nicholas, the co-founder of Boston Scientific, notes that those who
are cynical about financial success usually do not have the drive or the
ability to achieve the American Dream. He warns, “There’s a big difference
between long-term sustainable success and fast bubble success.” The
whiplash of the last Internet bubble is indelibly etched in his mind, as are the
dizzying recent market gyrations. David Jones of Humana fame, Louisville,
Kentucky’s top slugger and definitely a long-term success, says, “You’re
living the American Dream if your children are independent. It’s also great if
you have created jobs for your community. I figure I have created over a
hundred thousand jobs with my businesses.”
    Robert Jepson Jr., Savannah, Georgia’s savant of success, says the
American Dream is “having the greatest number of personal options to do
good in one’s life: to provide for others, to live a productive life, to be able
to provide for one’s community, and to be recognized by your peers as
successful in your personal endeavors.” He admits, though, that since he
made his fortune in the buying and selling of companies, much of his
definition of the American Dream is now in the accumulation of wealth. With
major successes in the three businesses that he has built or turned around
(more on that later), Jepson has spent his well-earned wealth at least
partially on a great lifestyle and in his powerful philanthropic works.
Perhaps his proudest achievement, though, is endowing the Jepson School of
Leadership Studies at his alma mater, the University of Richmond.
    When I asked the RMIT in Dayton, Ohio, Clayton Mathile (pronounced
ma-TEEL), how he personally defined the American Dream, he said, without
any hesitation, “Applause at home.” He says this means your wife loves you,
your kids love you, and your best friends love you. Sometimes the simple
truths are, indeed, the most powerful. Even though Mathile has billions in the
bank thanks to his success with Iams, the premium pet foods company that he
sold to Procter and Gamble in 1999 for $2.3 billion, he still reverts to what
he considers true success—the love and respect of family and friends. He
says, “I didn’t want to look back on my life and think that my biggest
accomplishment was just making a big ol’ pile of money.” The former farm
boy did have a hard time selling the company that had come to define him,
however. He says his wife, Mary, used to joke that Iams was “like their sixth
child who grew up, but wouldn’t leave home.” That sixth child did finally
leave home in what was at that time the largest acquisition P&G had ever
made.
    Clay Mathile agrees with Ralph Waldo Emerson, who said, “To laugh
often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of
children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of
false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others: To leave the
world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed
social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you
have lived. This is to have succeeded.” Perhaps this is why Mathile has built
a 114-acre campus just outside Dayton called the Center for Entrepreneurial
Education where he spends much of his time today in a post-pet-foods world.
He wants to use his considerable resources and expertise giving local
entrepreneurs the education and mentoring to one day enjoy a self-made
success similar to his. These are the kinds of rewards that RMITs seem to
enjoy most. These are their American Dreams.
Business legend has it that there are three types of people: those who make
things happen, those who watch things happen, and those who have no idea
what is happening. American RMITs, not surprisingly, are those who make
things happen. They make big things happen. They thrill in ideation and even
more in execution. Quite simply, they are builders—they love to create and
build more than anything else. They build businesses, they build homes, and
they build great wealth.
    The vast majority of them say they are ultra-happy as well, and they all
agree on one thing—retirement sucks! With a conservative net worth of $6
billion, Sam Zell is the richest man in Chicago. He’s a real estate titan and
recent buyer of the Tribune Company, the media colossus that encompasses
the Chicago Tribune, the Los Angeles Times, and the Baltimore Sun. When I
asked him, “What’s next?” he replied, “Who knows? I just know there will
be something and it will be fascinating—I’m a professional opportunist.”
What follows is the collective wisdom of one hundred “professional
opportunists” who uniquely define the American Dream.
   Money will only come when you are doing the right thing in the right
   way.
—Randal J. Kirk
In virtually every discussion I had with America’s RMITs, each would say,
in one form or another, “It’s not about the money.” But this, I found, was one
of the great lies that rich people tell themselves and anyone willing to listen.
This belief—that it’s not about the money—somehow makes ultra-affluent
folks feel better about themselves. Maybe it helps assuage some misplaced
guilt. At least it makes them appear humble. After two years of similar
discussions with these extraordinary individuals, I can tell you unequivocally
it’s very much about the money. But it’s about the money only as the
barometer of their success.
    New York City’s activist investor Carl Icahn, who has a net worth of $16
billion, says, “All humans collect something, I collect money. Money is the
scorecard in business success.” But he rightly points out that “to a world-
class cellist, success is making it to Carnegie Hall.” While Icahn is correct
that there are many definitions of success, the one I will focus on is the
success of wealth creation. Many RMITs were candid and admitted that
growing up, they wanted to be rich, and often thought about having more
abundance in their lives. Quite simply, they wanted to have a better life than
they enjoyed during their youth.
    Here’s the startling and seemingly counterintuitive revelation that the
majority of RMITs have experienced or observed along their unique
journeys, however. If you seek money strictly for the sake of becoming rich,
most likely you will never achieve true financial freedom. Ironically, great
wealth most often comes to those who seek it least. If you seek wealth for
wealth’s sake, you’re doomed to failure and destined for a life of little real
worth or value. This is a philosophy that America’s great successes embrace
fervently. RMITs are staunch in their belief that you must first create
substantial value—products or services that enhance people’s lives—before
the money will flow from any commercial enterprise. Only by creating value
will you ever attract significant wealth. This is the first commandment of
creating great wealth. Seek money for the sake of money alone and ye shall
not find.
    This common sentiment was summed up best by Randal J. “RJ” Kirk, the
biotech billionaire from Belspring, Virginia. He said, “It’s a Zen thing. If you
seek money alone as your ultimate goal, you are almost assured of not
receiving any.” Kirk believes that money is a valuable tool and a very useful
by-product of some highly valuable contribution you make to the universe.
He counsels, “Never ever do anything only for money, period. If you find
something you really love and that society finds valuable, then the money
comes rather easily.” Carl Icahn shares the most common philosophy I heard
from RMITs: “Find something you love to do, that you are absolutely
passionate about, and the money will come.”
    My initial reaction to the countless statements like Icahn’s and RJ Kirk’s
was, Well, yeah, that’s easy for you to say as you sit comfortably upon your
billion-dollar wallets. My RMIT research reveals, however, that Kirk and
Icahn are correct—it is the value you bring to a company, an organization,
indeed, the universe, that ultimately determines your level of wealth. Kirk is
right on the money when he says, “Money will come only when you are doing
the right thing in the right way.” He believes, like most RMITs, that
accumulating wealth for the sake of wealth alone is self-defeating. In other
words, it is the voyage that counts; it is the journey that produces the real pot
of gold at the end of the rainbow.
    Indianapolis’s RWIT, Christel DeHaan, has learned that the critical lesson
of wealth creation is to generate value first; money is the very pleasant by-
product. She has experienced the ultimate American Dream, even though it
all began in her native Germany. To develop her English-language skills, she
left home at sixteen to be a nanny in England. She later returned to Germany
and worked for the American armed forces as a translator. There she met and
married an American soldier, who brought her to Indianapolis. With two
young children and in need of extra income, she ran a typing service from her
home. She says, “For me, I never thought about the desire for money or great
wealth, I never thought about coming to America to seek fame and fortune, I
simply thought about the needs of my family and I did what I needed to do to
help provide for them.”
    From this modest beginning, DeHaan, only a decade later, was running a
multinational company, Resort Condominiums International, with offices
around the world. She received her just remuneration when she sold the
company for $825 million to Henry Silverman’s Cendant Corporation. She
never sought the money for money’s sake, but she agrees that the well-earned
wealth is a powerful side effect of her toil and her ambition. She says, “I
never wanted to sit still, I never wanted to accept the status quo. I had the
ambition to finish what I had started. The reward simply came as a result of
those efforts.”
    RMITs find a way to unite their avocation with their vocation—a sure-
fire recipe for both happiness and wealth creation.
    Begin at the beginning—when and where you were born. Think about
your most meaningful childhood memories and the greatest lessons of your
formative years. Think about your high school and college accomplishments.
A healthy dose of self-deprecating humor can make this exercise quite fun.
Write about your first job. Reflect on the relationships that have helped to
define your life. Another way of looking at this exercise is to think of it as a
condensed autobiography. Write about your greatest triumphs. Think through
the most difficult periods of your life and the lessons learned. None of us
lives a life free of pain. (See RMIT Commandment #7, Fail to Succeed.)
Face your failures head-on, and think through the gifts that eventually came
into your life because of those tough trials. Weave them into your life story.
    Now think through your hopes and dreams for the future—what you still
want to accomplish in your life, places you still dream of visiting,
experiences that capture your interest and imagination, books you still want
to read, and people you want to get to know. And last, think how you wish to
be remembered. What would you like engraved on your tombstone? My
favorite epitaph is the one Malcolm Forbes wrote for himself: “While Alive,
He Lived.” My personal choice is, “He Made a Difference.” I decided on
this many years ago when toiling at Esquire magazine as we were producing
a special fiftieth-anniversary issue called 50 Who Made a Difference. It was
a celebration and acknowledgment of fifty people who over the fifty years of
the magazine’s existence had profoundly changed the way we as a society
view the world. It was a tip of the Esquire hat to the belief that, as Phillip
Moffitt said then, “All that comprises any society is a network of individual
action.” The fifty individuals chosen—ranging from Jonas Salk to Jackie
Robinson, from Neil Armstrong to Thomas Watson—made an indelible mark
on the American landscape. I was not grandiose enough in my thought
process then, or now, to think I could or would do something that would have
the impact of these great individuals, but I did know one thing—somehow I
wanted to make a difference.
    That epitaph has been my constant guide and inspiration. It has
shepherded me through many difficult decisions and more than a few hard
times. Your epitaph decision should help you make a lot of the hard decisions
in life. Thankfully, I’ve still got time to work on living up to mine. To see
how I completed the obituary exercise—or simply for a bit of inspiration, or
a potential personal obituary template—visit www.richestmanintown.com
and click on RANDY’S FUTURE OBITUARY.
—Tao Te Ching
One thing all RMITs have in common is that they know who they are—they
have a keen sense of what makes them tick, they understand their own
motivations, and most have mastered the difficult task of deciphering their
greatest talents and abilities. In short, they have developed self-knowledge.
Neuroscientists tell us that we are all hardwired with certain aptitudes,
talents, interests, and inclinations. RMITs seem to know this instinctively.
They know that personal assessment is the first step to wealth amassment.
    Did your parents or loved ones ever say to you, “You can do anything you
put your mind to”? “You can be anything you dream of being”? Brace
yourself—they lied to you. These were not deliberate lies, of course. They
simply meant to encourage you. The truth is, RMITs do not believe that you
can be anything that you put your mind to. You cannot do anything and
everything that your mind can imagine. But this is good news. This revelation
is liberating because it frees you to be so much more of what you innately,
intrinsically, instinctively are. No matter what your level of ability, no matter
what talents you innately possess, you have within you more potential to
develop those talents than you can possibly explore in a lifetime. Although
your talents, abilities, and proclivities are as unique to you as your DNA—
and therefore finite—the possibilities for exploiting, developing, and
commercializing those unique talents are limitless.
    Finding your own unique gifts is the second step to becoming the richest
man in town. You must determine what Jim Haslam of Knoxville, Tennessee,
the chairman of Pilot Oil, refers to as “what is right about you.” He says, “I
don’t care what anybody says. Anybody who has been successful has gotten
into a business that suits their personality and their skill sets. If you think you
have to go to work each day—you’ve got the wrong job.” Haslam is right.
You have to find what is right about yourself, and then work isn’t work, it’s
pleasure. It’s all too easy for us to discern what is wrong with ourselves at
times, and even easier to see what is wrong with others, but America’s
RMITs prove that you must not let what you cannot do interfere with what
you can do—what you are uniquely gifted to do. Focusing on your
limitations will not make you the richest man in town—but accentuating your
own innate abilities will. Warren Buffett once told Fortune magazine, “When
we got married in 1952, I told Susie [Buffett’s first wife] I was going to be
rich. That wasn’t going to be because of any special virtues of mine or even
because of hard work, but simply because I was born with the right skills, in
the right place at the right time. I was wired at birth to allocate capital.” Like
Warren Buffett, we are all hardwired to do something. Figuring out what that
is, is the key to knowing yourself and unlocking your full potential.
    W. Clement Stone, who in his day was the richest man in Chicago, a
famous insurance executive, and author of numerous books on success, once
observed, “Whatever the mind of man can conceive, it can achieve.” This
ditty sounds good on the surface, but—with all due respect to Stone, who
was highly successful—today’s RMITs prove this long-held theory woefully
wrong. RMITs believe that you cannot be anything you conceive or believe.
You cannot be anything your loved ones believe you can be. However,
RMITs attest that you can be so much more of who you instinctively,
intrinsically, rightfully, and genetically are. Warren Buffett knew he was
wired to be an investor, an allocator of capital. He recognized his unique
gifts, his innate talents—he knew himself. Sixty-two billion dollars later, I
think he has proved the precept.
    Jonathan Nelson, the CEO of Providence Equity Partners and the richest
man in Providence, Rhode Island, learned the critical know-thyself lesson
while taking a course on Beethoven at Brown University. “I knew very little
about classical music when I signed up for the class, and it is safe to say I
still know little about classical music. I thought it might be fun and easy.
There was nothing more to it than that. On the first day of class, our instructor
played a few notes and asked the class who could identify the notes. It was a
small class and it seemed to me about 25 percent of the class had their hand
up. I was not among them. The professor called on someone: ‘C-sharp,’ the
student responded. How, the professor asked, did he know that? ‘I have
perfect pitch,’ said the student. It turns out that was the only way to know the
key. Those students with their hands up all had perfect pitch.
    “Well… I knew two things at that moment. First, 25 percent of the class
had a significant advantage over me. They had a talent I could not acquire
and it made them better equipped than I to do well in the class. Second, I
realized that this class would not be easy for me to ace—now I was worried
about passing. But I stayed with it. I barely passed. I learned about
Beethoven and an unfamiliar musical genre, and I developed an appreciation
for the power of relative skill differences. Or maybe it was just fun to learn
and spend time with people who were much better at something than me.
Even if I knew then where I wanted to be in ten years, this class would not
have directly helped me get there. But I did learn the lifelong lesson that
while perfect pitch is a real talent, so, too, is recognizing one’s relative skills
and abilities.”
    Nelson practices what he learned in that fateful class at Brown, and it has
served him well. Worth at least $2 billion, he is not only the richest man in
Providence; he is the wealthiest man in the entire state. To illustrate this idea
of perfect pitch, he tells the story of the revitalization of James Bond: “When
we acquired the movie studio MGM two years ago, the big question was,
What would we do with James Bond—who will be the next Bond? This is
one case where the human interest lined up with the financial significance.
MGM actually owns the Bond franchise with a brother-and-sister team who
are the offspring of Cubby Broccoli, the creator of the James Bond franchise.
Barbara Broccoli and her late father had already endured many studio chiefs
along the way to successfully producing twenty-one Bond flicks. Before we
closed the MGM deal, we insisted on meeting with Barbara, who was to be
our new partner in the company’s—if not the industry’s—most important
movie franchise. We had key decisions to make and we needed to come to an
agreement quickly.
    “Barbara was like one of the kids in class with perfect pitch. I said we
were not here to approve scripts or select the next Bond. She could do that
unencumbered by our ownership. We took a big risk. The movie took the
franchise in a new direction. And the much-maligned Bond choice, Daniel
Craig, became an overnight sensation and was met with universal support
from the critics. I am here to say that we deserve none of the credit. Barbara
had the ‘perfect pitch’ for Bond. Recognizing and respecting those skills was
a lesson learned in that first day of the Beethoven course.”
    Nelson’s point is clear: No amount of positive thinking or wishful willing
can make you something you are not. Lose the misconception that you can be
anything you set your mind to. Instead, work to your strengths: Decide what is
right with you. Stephen King, the richest man in Bangor, Maine, and perhaps
the most commercially successful writer in America, knew early in life what
was right about himself. He has said, “There was nothing else I was made to
do. I was made to write stories and I love to write stories. That’s why I do it.
I really can’t imagine doing anything else and I can’t imagine not doing what
I do.”
Personal Lies
    According to Hartley Peavey, “We are so good at lying to ourselves about
our talents and innate strengths that there is a word for it—and it’s called
rationalization.” He remembers his personal lie well. “I was saying to
myself, ‘If only I had a seventy-watt amp rather than a thirty-five-watt amp,
then maybe I would sound better.’ But the reality was that I was just a louder
awful guitar player.” By being honest with himself, by refusing to rationalize
any longer, he led himself to his true calling: to build one of the largest music
electronics firms in the world. Peavey’s company pioneered computer-
controlled machining in the making of high-quality, affordable guitars. It also
manufactures amplifiers, speakers, and music software so that hundreds of
thousands of bands can pursue their musical passions. Peavey found the
perfect way to marry his passion with his unique talents and abilities; as a
result, he holds more than 130 patents and has built a $500 million company,
which he controls 100 percent. Now in his midsixties, he shows no signs of
slowing down, because he is as passionate today about music, and building
the equipment to produce and enjoy it, as he was when Bo Diddley first blew
his mind.
    Peavey has always marched to his own tune. “By definition, you cannot
be the best and be just like everybody else,” he says. “To dare to be different
is easy to say, but damn difficult to do. Most people simply don’t have the
cojones to be different.” Peavey is right: Following your unique talents
sometimes means blazing a trail into the unknown. He continues, “People are
always looking for the secret recipe to success and wealth creation and they
are almost always looking for that recipe from without. The recipe is actually
within—it’s inside of all of us. You just have to know how to reach in there
and grab it. The reality is that we all come into this world with our own
unique bag of tricks. Some people call them talents, abilities, proclivities—it
doesn’t matter what the moniker is. The truth is, we are all different. We have
to understand those unique differences and not only celebrate them, but
employ them in our pursuit of happiness, success, and wealth.”
    Peavey thinks that most Americans—most people of the world, in fact—
get caught up in the concept that we all are born equal. He proffers, “In the
eyes of the law and in the eyes of God, I guess we are all born equal, but
thank God we are not all born the same.” Discovering and honing your
unique talents is the most important step to becoming the richest man in town.
If It Feels Good, Do It
    Many people have not mastered the art of finding their perfect pitch. You
are a natural at something. Some things simply come easier for you than other
things. What are those things? Think about what you do best. Ask yourself the
question: What would I do if I knew I couldn’t fail? Ponder what puts a
smile on your face, what makes time fly because you’re having so much fun.
Stay away from those things that don’t bring you joy and excitement, that
aren’t of interest to you, that don’t make your heart race like your first crush.
If you’re not a numbers person, then obviously you shouldn’t be pursuing
accounting. If you have no sense of style, then you shouldn’t be an interior
decorator or fashion designer. If you aren’t good at basketball, don’t dream
of your day in the NBA. RMITs systematically divest themselves of the things
they don’t naturally excel at, enjoy, or find emotionally or intellectually
stimulating. They seek more pleasure, less pain.
    Fred Levin, a flamboyant personal injury attorney and the richest man in
Pensacola, Florida, says, “Taking the path of least resistance is the surest
way to finding your pathway to success.” That seems counterintuitive, almost
anti-American, but RMITs prove it is true. Levin never doubted for a moment
what his pathway to success and wealth was to be. He wanted to be a trial
attorney. Now Florida’s most successful trial attorney, having won hundreds
of millions from the tobacco companies, Levin says, “While this may be
counter to what most of us grow up hearing from family and friends, the old
refrain You can accomplish anything you set your mind to… simply isn’t
true.” It doesn’t pay to become a Greek tragedy like Sisyphus, constantly
pushing a boulder up the mountain only to see it cascade back down the hill.
Levin, who loves a good fight (he has also served as the manager for boxing
great Roy Jones Jr.), is right. Why struggle pushing a rock uphill when,
instead, you can have the wind at your back? Levin knows what things make
him tick, and getting attention is one of those things. His talent for self-
promotion is very much a part of his perfect pitch. Despite his controversial
reputation, his name sits atop his alma mater—and the state’s most
prestigious—law school, the University of Florida. This king of torts figured
out his unique talents and abilities and followed them not to the orchestra hall
or into a university classroom, but into the courtroom and before the camera.
    Part of the Puritan work ethic instilled in most of us is the belief that we
must work hard to overcome our weaknesses, that we must face our deficits
head-on and attack them with near-fanatical fervor. That’s not the runway to
runaway success, however. RMITs have become the richest men and women
in their towns because they have assessed their unique talents and nurtured
their distinctive strengths. They accentuate their own positive traits, talents,
and innate skills. Bill Gates once noted, “Early in the history of Microsoft,
our view was, if you were very smart then you could learn how to manage
people, how to do business, how to do marketing. It turns out that talent isn’t
that fungible. Somebody who is great at doing software in many ways is often
not the right person to manage people.”
    Anti-virus virtuoso John McAfee said that it took him until his late forties
to know himself fully. His best advice? “Find out who you are early; find out
what you’re best at and what you really want before you go out and try to
achieve what the outside world has defined as success.” You must make your
own definition of success. McAfee says, “I simply bought lock, stock, and
barrel what my parents told me was success—what the movies, TV, and all
the books on success told me was success. I did that without regard to what
success really meant to me.”
    In this post-software phase of his life, he has built his own town in the
desert of New Mexico and a new business that combines his talent for
building things and his passion for flying—in this case, flying kite-wing
plane contraptions that look like motorcycles with wings. McAfee’s Sky
Gypsies is a band of brothers who share a love of navigating the canyons and
crevices of New Mexico and Arizona in these one-person aerotrekking
gliders. Soaring silently over the desert terrain allows for some serious and
continuing soul searching—the kind of personal internal analysis that is a
critical step to becoming the richest man in town.
    None of this is to say that everyone is a hidden genius. You don’t have to
be a human calculator or a musical savant to have real, valuable,
“monetizable” human capital. Billion-dollar Bob Gillam, the greatest success
story in Anchorage, says, “It’s not the Phi Beta Kappa who becomes the great
change agent of the world. It’s often the B student who has had to struggle—
who knows what he is made of—who knows who he is.” Gillam, a sixty-
something Alaskan adventurer, exemplifies the Horatio Alger trajectory of so
many RMITs. He began in modest circumstances, raised in the back room of
his father’s liquor store in Anchorage. He knew that he didn’t want to run a
liquor store, but he did love watching the way business works. He made his
way from that storage room to one of the most prestigious business schools in
America, the Wharton School of Business at the University of Pennsylvania.
He struggled to get there, but he knew his calling was to be an investor and
run his own company. He knew his perfect pitch. Like Nelson, Levin, Peavey,
Mathile, and Gillam, you can only become an RMIT if you are performing
from, and playing to, your personal strengths. Maya Angelou is right on the
money: “You can only become truly accomplished at something you love.
Don’t make money your goal. Instead, pursue the things you love doing, and
then do them so well that people can’t take their eyes off you.”
    • You can’t be something you’re not… but you can be so much more
      of who you innately, intrinsically are. Everyone has his or her own
      unique perfect pitch.
    • The path of least resistance is your surest road to success and
      sizable riches.
    • How much you capitalize on your personal makeup ultimately
      determines how much capital you have in your personal wallet.
• What are you so good at that people can’t take their eyes off you
  when you are doing it?
                    RMIT COMMANDMENT #3
—Phil Ruffin
Find the founder in you: Build your own business, buy your own business,
own your own business. If you hire yourself, you control your own life’s
direction. Like it or not, we live in a society in which there is no such thing
as job security or a continual climb up the so-called corporate ladder.
America’s RMITs are prime examples. Ninety-four of the hundred RMITs
have the title founder on their biographies—proof that it pays to hone the
inner entrepreneur in you, even while you’re working for someone else.
    Richard DeVos Sr., who founded Amway along with high school best
friend Jay Van Andel, said that his father encouraged him from his earliest
youth to own his own business. Having lived through the Great Depression,
DeVos’s father knew that the only way to control your destiny is to own your
own business and be your own boss. When asked if he ever considered
taking the company public or selling, DeVos shot back, “No! For Jay and me,
it was never about the money. It was about the thrill of owning our own
business, controlling our own destinies.” Even so, DeVos defines success as
the “ability to improve the lives of others.” He believes the best way to do
that is by providing jobs and long-term security for a large group of
employees—something he says a successful private company is best at doing.
    Alex Hartzler of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, was a corporate lawyer
before becoming the man who helped build and ultimately sell the Internet
marketing company Webclients to ValueClick for $141 million. Today
Hartzler is a real estate developer and the most successful entrepreneur in
Harrisburg. And he’s still in his thirties. I asked him if he ever regretted
leaving the stable legal profession for the turbulence of owning his own
company. He said firmly, “Never! Law didn’t afford me freedom, it didn’t
afford me ownership, and it didn’t afford me the opportunity to enjoy the
fruits of my labor.” He has never looked back.
    Dayton’s Clayton Mathile had his I-must-own-my-own-business
revelation while still in high school. A local farmer came to him and asked if
he would be willing to tend his soybeans during the growing season. The
farmer offered to pay him $10 a day; Mathile’s good math skills told him that
he could earn $800 by the end of the summer. “That was a lot of money in
those days,” he says. His father then made him a counterproposal, offering to
give him eight acres of land to work, promising to provide him all the profits
after the fall harvest. Mathile says, “I always thought, why work for the man
when you can have the man work for you?” In late September, while young
Mathile was at school, his father harvested the soybeans Clay had tended,
combined them with his harvest, and promptly sold them at market. When
Clay asked about his proceeds, his father sheepishly admitted that he had
simply forgotten about their arrangement. Not surprisingly, he didn’t have a
particularly good relationship with his father after that breach of contract. He
had long felt that his father’s pessimism and conservatism kept him from
achieving a richer, fuller, better life. And in the case of the forgotten soybean
arrangement, his father had kept young Clay, too, from receiving the rewards
of his efforts.
    Mathile calls this deal his first real failure. He knew then that he couldn’t
work for his father, or anyone else for that matter, and vowed to own his own
company one day. After the sale of Iams, Mathile wrote a book called Dream
No Little Dreams, partially inspired by the sad fact that his father seemed to
have had no dreams at all. Clay, however, sure did. He breathed life into his
dream of a better existence, owning his own company and helping others in
the process. Today, after his $2.3 billion sale of Iams, he spends most of his
time at the Center for Entrepreneurial Education he started to help local
entrepreneurs reach their own American Dream.
    Less than 10 percent of America’s RMITs have taken their companies
public, and most cite the short-term thinking of Wall Street as a key reason.
The more important reason, however, is that they lose control of their own
destiny. RMITs trust themselves more than they trust anyone else to protect
their companies, their wealth, and their futures. RMITs feel that when a
company is forced to manage from quarter to quarter as opposed to taking a
long-term view—employees often become viewed as commodities or
overhead, not human beings and managers—then they spend too much of their
time figuring out how to spin their stories to Wall Street as opposed to
building their businesses. TD Ameritrade’s Chairman Joe Ricketts needed
new capital in 1997 to keep up with the explosive growth that the Internet
was providing for his Omaha-based discount brokerage, so he took
Ameritrade public on the NASDAQ exchange. He shares a common RMIT
frustration, saying, “It’s a distraction managing to the street’s expectations
and it’s not fun for someone who is accustomed to running their own
business. I didn’t like it very much.” Archie “Red” Emmerson, the largest
landowner in California and the second largest in the United States (only an
acre or two behind Ted Turner), took his company Sierra Pacific public in
1969, but he hated answering to Wall Street so much that he took the company
private again five years later. He says simply, “I just like to work for
myself.”
    One of the sometimes not-so-pretty truisms of capitalism is, “The new
money calls the shots.” It is not the creator of the innovative idea or the smart
manager who builds an enterprise to outsize success who most often reaps
the reward—it is the provider of the capital who gets massively rich if the
enterprise is successful. That’s why another maudlin maxim of capitalism is
“Shoot the Founder.” Often when a lone-ranger founder needs or—better put
—is forced to raise capital to get his business off the ground or to scale up to
the next level, he soon finds himself doing very little and having even less.
When possible, RMITs believe that it is always better to self-finance your
success, to remain your own boss, to control your own destiny.
    I asked David Green, the humble owner of Hobby Lobby, if he would
ever consider taking his family-owned multibillion-dollar company public.
He said strongly, “I’m not interested. We don’t need the cash. We are able to
open twenty to thirty stores a year with our profits, and besides, I don’t want
to debate with stockholders about how we run our business or what we do
with our profits.” That wasn’t always the case, however. Starting out making
picture frames on their kitchen table, Green and his wife capitalized their
business with a $600 loan. That loan, when it was paid off, allowed Green to
stay firmly in control of his destiny. It allowed him to build a company with
his values, not the values of Wall Street or outside investors. Green has been
his own boss from the very beginning. Like all RMITs, he likes it that way.
    Richard DeVos is in Green’s camp. When I asked him about the single
most critical piece of advice he would give to his grandchildren or any
ambitious young person, DeVos didn’t hesitate: “Start your own business and
keep it private.” That’s the advice he says he gave his own grandson and
namesake. Young Rick DeVos started Spout.com to bring films from around
the world that have not experienced theatrical distribution directly to a movie
lover’s computer. Thanks to his grandfather’s influence and wise counsel,
Rick DeVos, in his twenties, is an entrepreneur attempting to bust open a
closed Hollywood system and let consumers—not the Hollywood studios—
decide what movies they wish to see and when.
    Savannah’s success story, Bob Jepson, has enjoyed three wealth-creation
successes: Jepson Corporation, Kuhlman, and Coburn Optical Industries. But
before he was making all the big decisions himself, he worked for other
companies and found it frustrating when he was told by one early boss, “Bob,
you want to move faster than the institution is willing to move.” Looking back
now, he admits that it was a great education on someone else’s dime, but he
knew deep in his heart that he was an entrepreneur. He says, “I loved
working with people, but I liked working with people better than for
people.”
    Burlington, Vermont’s Robert P. Stiller likes working with people, too,
but he only really understands working for himself because that is all he’s
ever done. In 1981, after the sale of his previous company, EZ Wider (one
guess as to what his favorite movie was at the time), he stumbled onto or
tipped his cup in the direction of his next big idea while vacationing in
Vermont. That morning, Stiller enjoyed the first cup of what he thought was
the best coffee he’d ever had. Even though he wasn’t much of a coffee
drinker, he was driven to track down the roaster of the particular coffee
beans that he so enjoyed. He found what would be the source of his wealth in
a local Waitsfield, Vermont, firm called Green Mountain Coffee Roasters.
Stiller thought: “If I like this cup of joe, then there may be a great market
among real coffee lovers for a higher-quality premium coffee.” He bought the
small roasting company, hired himself again, and started the super-premium
coffee revolution.
    It wasn’t an instant success, however. Green Mountain bled red for the
first four years. “No one ever said the entrepreneurial life is an easy life, but
it sure is an exciting one,” he says. I’m not certain it was so exciting when he
had exhausted the entire fortune he’d derived from his EZ Wider success in
his attempt to build Green Mountain to greatness. He doesn’t remember the
pain today as much as he celebrates that Green Mountain is the most
successful super-premium coffee company in the country. Looking back,
Stiller says, “It was all about survival.” A decade later, the coffee was
roasting and the company was cooking. He took Green Mountain public in
1993, further enriching the firm and fueling the company’s expansion. That
move expanded Stiller’s wallet as well. Today Vermont’s most successful
man is outfitting his yacht so he can spend a few more weeks a year on the
high seas. He says he learned his success and wealth-creation philosophy
from his father, who always said, “If you provide the best product or service
and treat people well, you will be successful at whatever you do.” He
clearly had a good idea in super-premium coffee; he focused maniacally on
the manufacturing aspect—the roasting process; and he pursued the building
of the company with his characteristic passion. Stiller’s love of life and
continual pursuit of greater meaning through his meditation and his enjoyment
of what he calls “the amenities of life” (boats, planes, art) prove that he has
not only survived, but thrived.
    What DeVos, Hartzler, Mathile, Jepson, Stiller, and virtually all RMITs
have done in their illustrious careers is to write their own personal
declarations of independence. According to the Federal Reserve Board, in
2007, the average net worth of self-employed people was an impressive
$1.3 million, more than six times the net worth of the average worker.
    Jim Oelschlager, the ace card player of Akron, Ohio, mustered the
courage to write his declaration of independence. He left the comfort of a
cushy job at Firestone Tire to start his own company, Oak Associates, Ltd.
Today it’s one of the leading investment management companies in the
country in performance. Oelschlager is often hailed by Forbes, Fortune,
Worth, and Money magazines as one of the best investment managers of all
time. His personal investment and his investment skills have yielded
prodigious profits for his investors and himself. With $30 billion of assets
under management and a personal net worth of hundreds of millions,
Oelschlager is an inspiration in countless ways. As noted earlier, perhaps
most impressive is that he had the guts to build his own company even after
being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, knowing full well that he could
soon be bound to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. He has refused to
permit his physical limitations to become life limitations. With characteristic
humility, he says, “There are no extraordinary people—there are only
average people who do extraordinary things.” The owner of Oak Associates
is referred to by his associates (he calls them Oakies) as the “benevolent
dictator.” He says, “Democracy works well in government, but not in
businesses. Consensus management doesn’t work.” He likes picking winning
stocks for his clients—and yes, he likes running his own show and being his
own boss.
    Wichita, Kansas’s Phil Ruffin, a multibillionaire real estate developer, oil
tycoon, hotel owner, and manufacturer, exclaims: “I could never work for
someone else. You don’t get rich working for other people!” Ruffin finished
only three years of college, then dropped out to flip burgers before starting to
build what ultimately became the Ruffin Companies. Today he owns diverse
real estate interests, including the Trump International Hotel and Tower; the
Frontier Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas; the Wichita Greyhound Racing Park;
Harper Hand Trucks, the largest hand truck company in the world; sixty-one
Total convenience stores; and a hundred oil wells. All of his companies are
100 percent owned by Ruffin. He developed the Crystal Palace Casino in the
Bahamas and sold it for $147 million in 2005. His coup de grâce, however,
was his sale of thirty-four acres of prime land directly on the Las Vegas Strip
for a stunning $41 million an acre, reaping an even more stunning total of
$1.4 billion. Now, he says, “I’m buying a billion dollars’ worth of bonds a
day.” Plus, he kept seven acres on the Las Vegas Strip for his own
development. Three and a half of those acres currently house his joint venture
with best buddy Donald Trump, the Trump International Hotel and Tower.
Ruffin is proud that he has never invested in any publicly traded stocks,
instead choosing to invest solely in his own businesses. He says, “Why
would I invest in some other company where the management is sucking it
dry in salary and stock options? I’ll stick to my own things.”
    In 1973, Lake Charles, Louisiana’s captain courageous William J. Doré
traded his 49 percent stake in a company called Ebbco—with revenues of
$1.5 million—for ownership of 100 percent of Global Divers, a company on
the brink of bankruptcy. His family, friends, and even the seller thought he
was insane. Why did he do it? Doré says, “I only owned 49 percent of the
business I was supposedly running and I didn’t have control over the
business decisions.” His new company sounded impressive, but Global
Divers was anything but global at the time. The offshore diving company
would soon live up to its grand name, however, thanks to Doré’s strong
belief in his abilities as an entrepreneur totally responsible for the success or
failure of his enterprise. Today Global Industries Ltd. has a market
capitalization of $2 billion and Doré has a treasure chest with more than
$700 million.
    Bruce Halle of Scottsdale, Arizona, and Discount Tire dynamo, clearly
loves owning his own business—he has for forty-eight years. But he also
believes that the people you choose to accompany you on the journey are
critical to your success. He asks the rhetorical question, “How the hell did
we get here after all these years?” He answers himself: “By a lot of hard
work, with the help of some terrific people, and with a simple but powerful
business philosophy.” Halle’s philosophy? “Be fair, be truthful, work hard,
be there on time, and help people.” Helping people has helped Halle build
one heck of a company that he says even more than forty years later is still
the best reason to wake up in the morning. “There is nothing more fulfilling
than owning your own business and seeing that business create jobs for good
people and value for good customers.”
    Harris Rosen, the richest man in Orlando, Florida, had the guts to leave
the comfort of corporate America (Disney Resorts) when he bought his first
hotel in 1974 at age thirty. He says, “My life really began once I owned my
first hotel—there is nothing like the pride of ownership. It’s a uniquely
American sensibility, and I say God bless America for it.”
    Bear in mind that for most people, the need for security is a major
impediment to becoming super-wealthy. If the stability of a steady salary is
critical to you, then please understand that you’ll likely never become the
richest man or woman in town. Working for the other man too long makes you
risk-averse, and the ability to take responsible risk is what often
distinguishes an RMIT from an also-ran. Be the man (or woman), not an also-
ran.
    Salt Lake City’s Jon Huntsman has always been the man, and a smart risk
taker, too. In his book Winners Never Cheat: Everyday Values We Learned
as Children (But May Have Forgotten), he says, “Most people don’t take
personal risks and will never know the true joy and satisfaction that comes
from the mine-filled arenas where great empires are built.” A graph of the
life of a typical RMIT would look a lot like an electrocardiogram.
Huntsman’s journey certainly would. He grew up very poor as the son of a
rural schoolteacher whom he describes as a “harsh disciplinarian.” He
remembers only one 50-cent piece that his father gave him during his entire
life. He made his own money and his own way from a very early age, once
personally paying $120 to the dentist to rid him of a mouthful of cavities
when he was in the eighth grade. He says, “I always felt trapped in my
personal situation.” He moved with his family from a small two-room house
in backwoods Blackfoot, Idaho, to a one-bedroom apartment for five people
before ultimately spending his high school years in a cramped Quonset hut in
student housing at Stanford University, where his father was pursuing a PhD
in education. The move to Palo Alto meant an even more meager existence,
but it did have one advantage. It led Huntsman to Palo Alto High School,
where he became the student body president and the big man on campus. His
performance at Palo Alto High and his drive won him a scholarship to the
Wharton School. He knew from experience, however, that he did not want to
live the kind of lifestyle his father had favored. He hasn’t lived a meager life
since, by any means. Still, Huntsman’s career and life have not been straight
lines to success. His company was on the verge of bankruptcy twice, and he’s
defeated cancer three times.
    In each case, he worked through the tough times by relying on his
confidence in his abilities, his Mormon faith, and his moral compass. Like
Huntsman, RMITs are not afraid of risk. While they certainly are not
comfortable with irresponsible risk, they are comfortable with volatility.
They know how to ride the roller coaster of life, preparing for the peaks and
valleys of building their businesses, cultivating their fortunes, and creating
exciting lives. They love the ride, no matter how bumpy it becomes.
    Typical of this RMIT ability to manage volatility, Dennis Albaugh, the
Iowa farm boy once dubbed the Pesticide Prince by Forbes magazine, says
he mortgaged his home in order to purchase a truck that he filled with weed
killer to sell to a potential customer. Alas, his prized new possession leaked
all the way from Iowa to South Dakota, leaving him with nothing to sell and
no money in his pocket. Most people would have called that a sign from God.
But Dennis Albaugh simply rented another truck, bought more weed killer,
this time on credit, and barely broke even. However, his business was born.
“The single thing that most affected my success was my ability to be a risk
taker and to have the courage to start my own business,” he says. “Mind you,
there was never any clear-cut path or proof that my ideas were going to
work.” His ideas have worked, all right: Starting with that one truckload of
pesticides in 1979, he built Albaugh, Inc., into one of the world’s leading
agricultural chemicals companies. The owner of the largest supplier of off-
patent weed-killing chemicals in the world, who is now worth billions, says,
“I really like working for me.”
    Jim Harrison, Tuscaloosa’s RMIT, loved taking one small family
pharmacy and building a company that encompassed over 150 drugstores in
the Southeast. In 1997, virtually every major national pharmacy chain
competed to buy Harrison’s Harco. Rite Aid ultimately won the prize.
Harrison says, “There is no greater pleasure than owning your own business.
I love the pace, I love the competition, I love the responsibility. I never
considered working for the other guy. And to this day, my former employees
call me and say they long for the days of Camelot.”
    Milwaukee’s main man, William Kellogg (no relation to the cereal
fortune), started as an assistant store manager with Kohl’s, the Wisconsin-
based retail chain, in 1967 and is the rare RMIT who worked his way up the
corporate food chain. He became the chairman and chief executive officer in
1977. Then in 1986, he switched from being a highly respected and
generously compensated CEO to an owner when he led the management team
and a group of investors in buying Kohl’s from then-owner British American
Tobacco Company. Kellogg took the department store public in 1992 for a
big personal payday. A couple of billion dollars in his coffers later, Kellogg,
who never went to college, says, “Kohl’s was my life, and I have loved my
life. There is nothing so sweet as having a piece of the action while doing
what you love most.”
The Partner Paradox
    That piece of action is rarely, if ever, achieved without the counsel,
expertise, and support of trustworthy partners. Becoming the richest man in
town requires both cunning and collaboration. In other words, none of us is
as smart as all of us. In business and in your life, great success is hard to
achieve without help from other people, on many fronts. None of us can do it
all, no matter how brilliant we think we might be. That doesn’t mean there
has to be equal ownership, however. RMITs all say that one critical key to
creating great wealth is to hold all the cards.
    Jim Oelschlager of Akron formed Oak Associates with the following
terms: Don’t have a partner. Use your own money. Don’t buy out another
business. Don’t sell out to another company. Dennis Albaugh of Des Moines,
Iowa, feels even more strongly: “I hate partners. Every time I have had
partners, I have found that I have spent my time trying to figure out how to get
out of the partnership. I’ve never considered going public because then
you’re not in control. I do like banks as partners, though. The nice thing about
banks is, once you pay them off, they go away.” Albaugh tells the story of
how he once got a loan for some much-needed mezzanine financing by
pledging 2 percent of the company. “One of the happiest days of my life was
when we paid off that loan. My employees had a bonfire to burn the loan
documents.” Nevertheless, he says, “While I have never liked the idea of
partners, I have always hired people who are smarter than I am.” I heard this
refrain from virtually every RMIT I interviewed. One hundred percent of
RMITs agree that selecting the right team, the right employees, and the best
advisers has been essential to their individual success and ultimate wealth
creation. No one goes it alone; we live in an interdependent world—but
make no mistake: Sole or majority ownership is the key to becoming the
richest man in town.
    Dan Duncan, Houston’s humble billionaire, quotes the Bible (Proverbs
13:20) when he posits, “He who walks with wise men shall be wise.”
RMITs warn that you must make certain you choose wise colleagues
possessed of impeccable integrity to be a part of your enterprise. RMITs
know that a reckless, narcissistic, or self-indulgent partner can ruin an
enterprise overnight.
    Some rare RMITs, however, got really lucky in choosing a partner. Fred
DeLuca, the founder of Subway, has had the same perfect partner for more
than forty years. Dr. Peter Buck gave DeLuca a $1,000 capital infusion and,
perhaps more important, the suggestion and encouragement to start a
submarine sandwich shop as a way of paying for Fred’s college education.
The key to this great partnership is that Buck stood back and watched with
pride as DeLuca built Subway into the multibillion-dollar business it is
today. Buck’s brilliance was recognizing that there couldn’t be two kings.
Today DeLuca presides over more than twenty-nine thousand Subway stores,
making both Buck and DeLuca billionaires. Buck chose the right horse to bet
on, and then he let that thoroughbred win the race.
    This is not to say that an equal partnership is impossible. Jorge Pérez of
Miami has a partner in The Related Group, Stephen Ross, whom he met as a
student at the University of Michigan. The two couldn’t be more different in
style: Ross is the hard-charging native New Yorker; Pérez, the son of Cuban
exiles who grew up in Argentina and Colombia, exudes Latin charm and
charisma. Their complementary strengths are one reason the business
marriage has worked so lucratively. Ross runs The Related Group in New
York, and Jorge manages the Miami company—having well-defined separate
fiefdoms may be another explanation for their successful partnership. Still,
Pérez says, “Steve is my best friend and my mentor.” Together they have built
a company that is one of the nation’s largest builders of multifamily housing.
    Whether picking a partner or hiring a staff, there’s more to look for than
just general smarts and integrity. For some ambitious RMITs, collaborating is
the only way to move ahead as fast as they almost always want to travel.
William Sanders of El Paso advises, “Choose team players who share your
values and passions, but also ones who have complementary skills. There are
people who are good at managing process, at deploying capital, selling, or
being strategic thinkers, but I have yet to find someone who is outstanding at
all of these.” Albany’s Guha Bala adds, “If you must partner, always partner
with someone smarter than you are.” I guess this means he considers his
brother Karthik Bala the smart one: Guha Bala clearly respects and values
his brother’s intellect and skills, but he also possesses a good measure of
humility. RMITs prize humility, which might sound surprising given their
monumental achievements.
    When I asked California’s Red Emmerson when he first realized that he
was the richest man in his town, the billionaire timber baron and real estate
developer replied, “Probably long after when I was.” Humility does not
preclude a healthy ego—healthy being the operative word here. A healthy
ego assures confidence, ambition, and resilience in the face of adversity.
“Arrogance, however, will ultimately bite you in the ass,” says Emmerson.
His humility, perhaps, is the reason he has been the boss of Sierra Pacific
Industries for more than sixty years and still retains the deep loyalty of his
best people. Bernard Marcus of Home Depot fame has loads of confidence,
but plenty of humility, too, when he says, “Arthur Blank and I together
created a company with 120,000 employees and a market capitalization in
excess of $100 billion when I stepped down. Arthur and I couldn’t have done
it without the dedication of all Home Depot employees.” His Home Depot
home run allowed him to set up the Marcus Family Foundation, through
which he built Atlanta’s Georgia Aquarium at the cost of a reported $200
million donation. He also set up the Marcus Institute to help children with
neurological disabilities. This largesse is just a drop in the ocean of
philanthropic work that Marcus is now passionately pursuing. This ability to
make such a difference in the lives of others is one of the greatest rewards of
being an RMIT. It would have been impossible to realize had Marcus not
found a great partner in Arthur Blank—and had he not had the humility to
know how critical a good partner, not to mention 120,000 dedicated
employees, was to ensuring his success.
    According to Jim Oelschlager of Akron, Ohio, the secret to happiness is
“Get a good partner and have a good partnership.” You’ll remember
Oelschlager, the same RMIT who started his company with four rules, one of
which was to hold all the cards. His definition of partnership, however, is
more complex than what we usually think of as a fifty–fifty relationship. As a
benevolent dictator, Oelschlager’s idea of a successful partnership certainly
means sharing the wealth, but it does not mean sharing the ownership control.
He knows how to pick great partners, though—his key team has been with
him for more than thirty years.
    Hartley Peavey, the Mississippi music man whose company bears his
name, is the oldest son of a Meridian music store owner. He doesn’t call
himself a benevolent dictator—though he clearly is; instead he calls himself
a catalyst. “I learned in high school chemistry class that the definition of
catalyst is ‘that which enhances or speeds up a reaction without itself being
changed.’ I am the guy who is always stirring up the pot, demanding new
ideas, new approaches, new products,” he says. But he claims he is still the
same guy he was when he started his company more than forty years ago. “I
will not let anybody call me Mr. Peavey,” he says. He may not have changed
with all his wealth and success, but he asserted to me that he has gotten much
smarter. “I thought when I graduated from college that I knew something. I
didn’t realize that a diploma is nothing but a learner’s permit,” says Peavey.
    Alex Hartzler of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, serves up an ace when he
says, “Just as a good tennis player never gets better unless he plays with
players better than he is, the surest way to outsize success is to surround
yourself with people who are smarter, faster, and better than you. That’s how
you sharpen your game. That’s how you become the best player in your
field.” During the growth of Webclients, he recognized the strengths of his
partners Josh Gray and Scott Piotroski, and even though it meant taking a less
prominent role at times, he knew he was surrounded by partners who brought
mission-critical skills to the organization. Together they built and ultimately
sold Webclients to ValueClick for $141 million. It was a very prominent
payday for all.
    RMITs know their perfect pitch and deploy their unique skills in
businesses they can control or have a major role in shaping. But they also
know that finding the right partner or partners, with complementary skills, is
critical to success in any venture or enterprise. If you are the visionary, make
darn certain you have a partner who is a financial and operational genius.
Know thyself, know thy strengths and weaknesses, and find thy ace partner.
But if possible, hold all the ace cards: BYOB.
    • Be the man (or woman); don’t work for the man (or woman).
    • Find the founder in you—94 percent of RMITs founded their own
      companies.
    • Be a benevolent dictator—share the wealth, but keep the ownership.
    • Partner only with those who bring something mission-critical to
      your success.
                    RMIT COMMANDMENT #4
—Thomas Edison
Now that you know who you are, having analyzed your own unique talents
and innate interests, and now that you’re convinced the surest way to become
the richest man in town is to own your own business, you are ready to crank
up the volume of your ambition. All the self-discovery in the world is useless
if you don’t have the desire and the will to become the richest man or woman
in town. There is also no denying the crucial role that hard work, dedication,
and diligence play in reaching the American Dream. In other words, there is
no wealth without ambition. Much effort equals much prosperity.
    New York’s most ambitious man, Carl Icahn, believes a healthy obsession
builds a wealthy bank account. Icahn is often referred to as America’s
unlocker of inherent corporate value. This activist investor—who is also
perhaps the most feared man in business (just ask Time Warner’s Dick
Parsons or Yahoo!’s Jerry Yang)—says, “You have to be obsessive to be
successful.” He loves what he does every day and can’t imagine doing
anything different: “If you find something you enjoy doing, then your work is
not work.” Convenience store and casino king Phil Ruffin of Wichita
admonishes, “You’ve got to work hard; you’ve got to love to work; and
you’ve got to have fun doing it. You can’t sit around and go to the beach.
You’ve got to have high-octane ambition.” He does: In the early days of
building his Total convenience store business, he notes, “I was traveling to
three cities a day. It was hard, it was tiring, but I knew it was worth it.”
Parents Matter
    The level of ambition of RMIT parents seems to have had a powerful
effect on the way in which many RMITs developed their personal ambition.
Phil Ruffin has the same work ethic and ambition now—while buying $1
billion worth of bonds a day—as he did when he was first building his
fortune. He says, “My father owned a grocery business—and all he did was
work, and he was happy. I learned early that hard work makes you happy.”
    Anderson, California’s Red Emmerson says, “My father didn’t have much
ambition. He wanted to make just enough money to exist. I had much greater
ambitions. Maybe it was because I was born in 1929. I knew I was poor and
I knew I didn’t want to be that way in the future.”
    Carl Icahn’s father was a struggling musician who seemed, at least to
Carl, to accept his station in life. Carl had bigger plans. “As middle-class
Jews, my parents were basically socialist, and I had a problem with that
philosophy because with socialism there is no incentive. In politics or in
business there must be incentive and accountability.” This early realization
has formed the basis for Icahn’s approach to business. He believes that many
Fortune 500 companies are run like socialist systems, and as a result he is
determined to change the way corporations are governed. He’s currently
blogging about it in his Icahn Report, which is designed to keep corporate
CEOs on their toes.
    William D. Sanders of El Paso, whose dad was a respected advertising
agency owner, says, “My father was known for his skills and was indeed
highly respected, but he was never able to turn that respect into capital—
personal wealth. I always wanted both—respect and wealth. I never saw
them as contradictory in any way.” Colorado Springs real estate developer
Leroy Landhuis—who grew up on the farm outside a town of two hundred
people—says, “My parents simply accepted their lot in life. We never left the
farm except to go to church. I knew there was more and I wanted more for
myself than my parents wanted for me.” Seeking a better life is a powerful
motivator, no doubt, but the good news about ambition is that it can be honed.
    You can’t acquire new talents, but you can kick-start your ambition
addiction, you can turn up the volume of your work ethic, you can be more
persistent, and you can cultivate a sense of fearlessness. You can and must be
the creative force in your own life—taking personal responsibility for your
success and understanding that you have the power to achieve it.
Get Hooked
    Psychologists tell us that we are all addicted to something—often to many
things. The very essence of our humanness is, in fact, often defined by our
personal addictions. The list of American addictions is seemingly endless:
coffee, exercise, sex, cigarettes, chocolate, junk food, drugs, alcohol, love,
admiration, fame, reality TV, eBay, Facebook, mail-order catalogs, online
shopping, and, yes, success. You can decide which are the good addictions,
the life-affirming ones versus the life-debilitating ones. But why not replace
those bad addictions with good ones? RMITs do. They love to work—
although, curiously, they rarely describe themselves as workaholics (New
York’s Carl Icahn does, however). These qualities of persistence, diligence,
work ethic, and self-belief are not genetic traits that are doled out to only a
few truly gifted people. These are equal-opportunity addictions. We all have
the ability to become addicted to the traits that help us seize success and
create wealth. Hard work and self-belief are habits that each of us can
develop and hone to a fine brilliance. Aristotle once observed: “We are what
we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.”
    Writing is a good addiction. So is thinking through problems and
developing solutions, even improving things that already work well. RMITs
are often innovation junkies who refuse to settle for merely good enough. In
terms of becoming an RMIT, working hard is perhaps the best addiction you
can have. David Rubenstein, Washington, DC’s private equity powerhouse,
believes in hard work and persistence. He doesn’t believe in what he thinks
is one of the most overused words in the English language—genius. The
former Carter White House aide and CEO of the Carlyle Group was
described to me by some of his colleagues as a genius. He doesn’t buy it. He
says, “When you get older in life, you realize there are very few geniuses in
this world. Most likely, you will never meet one, and Randy, you did not
meet one today.”
    Growing up poor in 1950s Baltimore, Maryland, instilled in Rubenstein a
keen sense of ambition. In our interview, he seemed to anticipate my every
question and launch into the answer seemingly before I could ask it. He is
one of the most intelligent men I met on my RMIT expedition, and yet he does
not credit his intelligence for his success. Rather, he says, “The reason some
people get farther ahead of other people is because they possess
persistence.” He defines persistence as the ability to refuse to take no for an
answer.
    Rubenstein remembers that his life changed dramatically on November 4,
1980, when his boss at the time, President Jimmy Carter, was soundly
defeated by Ronald Reagan. He also recalls how many people in the legal,
political, and business circles he frequented while in his White House power
seat complimented him on his intelligence and professionalism. Many of the
Washington elite told him that if he ever needed a job, he should give them a
call. “Ronald Reagan became president and I called those very same people
who thought I was so smart, and you know what? They did not return my
calls,” he says. He could have joined a local law firm, of course, but while
he had been learning the ropes of politics, his law school classmates had
been learning to be good lawyers. He would have been significantly behind
the curve of his peer group. He didn’t want to be a lawyer anyway—that was
not his perfect pitch. Rubenstein decided he wanted to start an investment
company of his own, one that succeeded or failed based on his ambition,
diligence, and determination. He wanted to control his future. Like all
RMITs, he was tired of working for someone else, even if that someone else
happened to be the president of the United States.
    Rubenstein’s persistence paid off. As he was raising money to start his
first investment fund, he says, “One investor said to me nine times in a row,
‘I don’t think your fund is right for me.’ But I kept going back and on the tenth
time, he said, ‘Okay, here’s some money.’ He became our largest investor
over time.” Rubenstein knew what he wanted, and his persistence and his
ambition allowed him to get it.
    O. Bruton Smith, the richest man in Charlotte, North Carolina, says,
“Persistence is the mother’s milk of success.” The person he most admires is
Ross Perot, one of the most successful men in Dallas, Texas, and certainly
the most successful person that Texarkana has ever produced. “Ross started
at the bottom and he didn’t stop until he reached the top,” Smith says.
“Whether it was running EDS, Perot Systems, or running for president, Ross
is always full-throttle.” Smith, the founder and chairman of NASCAR track
owner Speedway Motorsports, Inc., and chairman of Sonic Automotive,
knows a thing or two about full-throttle ambition, hard work, perseverance,
and what he calls “essential energy.” He started out life as a North Carolina
farm boy and today is a multibillionaire known in racing circles as the man
who took NASCAR to Wall Street. Add to that the ownership of 168
automobile dealerships and control of thirty-four collision-repair centers. He
notes: “The ladder of opportunity is rather tall. I am always trying to get to
the top, but it is a never-ending ladder.” To most mere mortals, Bruton Smith
has long been perched on the top rung, but in his early eighties, his ambition
is not yet sated, nor has his work ethic waned. “From the time I had a
tricycle, I wanted a bicycle, and from the time I had one car, I wanted another
one, and I have never run out of energy.”
    Smith and Rubenstein would no doubt agree with Calvin Coolidge when
he posited that “nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent
will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent.
Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not;
the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone
are omnipotent. The slogan ‘press on’ has solved and always will solve the
problems of the human race.” Ambition requires Coolidge’s press-on
mentality. It also demands constant care and feeding.
Ambition Attention
   Bob Stiller, the rich roaster of rich coffees at Green Mountain Coffee in
Vermont, has been one to press on indefatigably from the time he was
adopted by his parents at birth, it seems. He is also a born salesman—making
a pitch is his perfect pitch. He admits, though, that being an adopted child
might have something to do with his strong desire to prove himself
continually. He says, “I’ve just begun to understand the psychological impact
of my formative years.” Even so, he took careful note of his father’s work
ethic and independence as the owner of his own heating coil business. He
also developed an early interest in the power of visualizing what he wanted
out of life. One of the things he visualized was a shiny red Corvette. He cut
out a picture of his dream and carefully taped it to the lamp in his room. As
the biggest success story in Burlington, Vermont—indeed, the richest man in
Vermont—he did ultimately get that visualized Corvette, though he much
prefers his Jaguar XKE (his actual first sports car) and his Ferrari. Stiller
has gotten considerably more than he visualized, but he still uses the power
of visualization in his company and in his personal life today. “I still cut out
pictures of what I want the company to achieve,” he says, “and the amazing
thing is, the things that I have visualized have come to me.”
    Stiller’s ambition is high-octane and highly caffeinated, no doubt, but it is
packaged in a Vermont teddy bear persona. Nevertheless, he’s very much
addicted to a daily cup of ambition: Howard Schultz’s Starbucks may still be
on every street corner, but it is not the star of the coffee industry—Green
Mountain is. With a market capitalization nearing the billion-dollar mark,
Green Mountain has, in terms of profits, become the most financially
successful premium coffee company in the country over the past decade.
Stiller’s ambition led him to his company’s success and to what he calls “the
amenities in life,” which he has attained—jets, a yacht, and a world-class art
collection. He says, “Success is the ability to achieve the things you want in
life.” But even though he has achieved the things he wants in life, he is still
climbing—every day. He says, “We all have within ourselves the capability
to accentuate our ambition and we all have the ability to choose to be diligent
workers—to be doers.” He gives much of the credit for his successful
thinking to a Silva meditation and mind-development course that he says
changed his whole perspective on the world. “People don’t realize the
power we have in our minds,” says Stiller. Destiny to him is not a matter of
chance, but rather a matter of choice. Your destiny is in direct proportion to
your ambition addiction.
    When I asked Roxanne Quimby of Portland, Maine, what was the single
best piece of advice she would give an ambitious young person looking for
the success she has enjoyed, she replied, “It sounds trite, but I know it to be
true: Hard work is the only sure path to success. It simply can’t be avoided.
Nor should it be, because work should be enjoyable.” Jim Oelschlager
reminds us of Colin Powell’s wise words—“All work is honorable.” To
RMITs, work is not a four-letter word. On the contrary: Because they love
what they do, because they have found their perfect pitch, work is simply
what they do to get things accomplished, which in turn leads to that great by-
product of ambitious achievement—financial success.
    Fargo, North Dakota’s Gary Tharaldson earned very little cold hard cash
on his first job as a farmworker—only $1.25 an hour. His father worked on
the same farm and made a whopping $1.75 an hour. Yet Tharaldson’s father
brought up six kids on that meager salary. It’s no surprise, then, that
Tharaldson has never been afraid of work. He loves working. Even more, he
loves outworking everybody else. He says, “Whether I was selling insurance
or building hotels, I have always outworked the next guy, happily.” It is clear
from interviewing these RMITs that there are varying definitions of ambition
among the manifestly motivated. They all, however, agree on one thing: Work
is inevitable, and it is fun—so much fun that the average RMIT happily puts
in more than sixty hours per week. Miami’s Jorge Pérez proudly admits to
working eighteen-hour days. “I so love doing what I do that I can’t think of
anything to which I would rather be devoting my time,” he says. “My work
life, family life, and social lives are all intertwined—they’re seamless.”
    Pérez’s neighbor to the north in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Wayne
Huizenga, is one of the great serial entrepreneurs in American history, with a
net worth in excess of $3 billion. He says, “I was always the first one in the
office and the last one to leave.” At a celebration after the sale of
Blockbuster Video, as war stories were being traded, he learned that many of
his colleagues had enjoyed a secret game where they took turns trying to beat
him to the office. “I learned that one morning a colleague, Bob Garren,
arrived at the office at 5:00 a.m. determined to beat me, but I had arrived at
4:30. It wasn’t a competitive thing for me. It’s just that every day, I couldn’t
wait to get to work, because I enjoyed it so much. I wanted to be there all the
time.” Huizenga’s ambition addiction and work ethic led to the joke
circulating through the halls of Blockbuster: “If you don’t show up on
Saturday, don’t bother coming in on Sunday.” Huizenga’s talent is the ability
to spot companies that can dominate an industry.
    Along his golden-paved journey, he spotted many. He bought and built a
bottled water company, a pest control company, a chain of dry cleaners, and
a uniform rentals company. As America’s ace of acquisitions, Huizenga
offers his personal business success secret when he says, “I don’t buy
companies, I buy industries. That’s why I got into the automobile business
forming AutoNation—because the automobile industry is a trillion-dollar
industry, and a small piece of a big pie is very tasty.” His Midas touch
certainly continued with AutoNation, which went from a simple concept with
zero revenue to $20 billion of sales in two years, making it the largest
automobile dealership company in the country with 375 dealerships. Hard
work and healthy ambition have served Huizenga well.
    But bear in mind that hard work for hard work’s sake is not the point.
Boston’s Pete Nicholas, the co-founder and chairman of Boston Scientific,
the $20 billion medical devices company, points out that ambition has its
limitations. “Generic ambition without a sense of purpose will not take you
very far,” he warns. “You’ve got to have conviction around a single idea that
you believe in so intently, you can’t envision anything but greatness coming
from it. Then you’ve got to be willing to work hard to make that idea become
a reality.” Jim Oelschlager also knows the importance of having a sense of
purpose. He cautions us not to mistake activity for accomplishment when he
says, “Don’t confuse mere motion with progress.” Meridian, Mississippi’s
Hartley Peavey places focus at the top of his list of traits critical to success:
Without focus, you waste your energy. In his slow Southern drawl, his quick,
highly focused mind says, “If you chase two rabbits, both will escape.”
    For RMITs, work is both honorable and fun, so why do so many of us hate
the thought of hard work? Hartley Peavey, using a common RMIT pilot’s
analogy, says, “Most people fly in ground effect. They operate at the
minimum level of acceptance, which means that point in their work effort
where they are doing just enough not to get fired or just enough to get by. But
they aren’t willing to flap their wings to fly above ground effect. I spend a lot
of my time encouraging the people of Peavey to rise to their greatest level, to
dare to be different. Maybe 3 percent of the people get the message and
internalize it. The others are just warming the chairs.”
    Many RMITs believe that fear of failure is often the reason for this just-
warming-the-chairs affliction. Sheldon Adelson—once worth over $28
billion and the richest man in Las Vegas—has said to anyone willing to
listen, “If you are afraid of losing, you will never succeed.” This
fearlessness requires supreme self-confidence, something RMITs possess in
spades. They believe in themselves and they believe in investing in
themselves. Adelson, who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks as the son
of a taxi driver in Boston, says, “If you don’t have a conviction about what
you are doing, you are never going to make it.” And what conviction he must
possess. Recently, his personal fortune has been deflated by over $20 billion.
Adelson’s Las Vegas Sands Corporation, which owns the Venetian Hotel and
Casino in Las Vegas and the Venetian Casino in Macau, the former
Portuguese colony near the coast of China, lost more than 90 percent of its
value in one year. He and many other casino moguls believed fervently that
Macau would become the hottest hotel and casino location in the world, but
Chinese leaders believed differently and curtailed mass-market visas to visit
the black jack tables of Macau. Although it remains to be seen whether
Macau will become the next gambling mecca and salvage Adelson’s fortune,
for now, he seems characteristically stoic. Perhaps because of his track-
record or his supreme confidence, he hasn’t lost his conviction. He is still
not afraid to fail. Before Adelson became the RMIT in Vegas, he owned
COMDEX, the first computer dealers’ trade show, which he sold to Japanese
investment company Softbank in 1995 for $862 million. Not only is he
fearless, he knows when to exit a business—COMDEX no longer exists.
When opening the fifty-story Palazzo Resort Hotel and Casino on the Vegas
Strip, Adelson boasted to USA Today regarding his competitors, “We will
cannibalize them.”
    With statements like that, making friends as a means of influencing people
is clearly not what Adelson is all about. And his highly debited checkbook
proves the point. This may be an example of what Pete Nicholas of Boston
calls “ambition without a conscience,” the dark side of ambition, and that is
not what he or most RMITs strive for. Rather, they strive to be the best they
can possibly be, to harness their ambition to a good purpose. Ambition
addiction comes with the side effect of supreme self-confidence, but
ambition without a purpose can lead to an overdose. There is a difference.
The former is the belief you can succeed; arrogance is the belief you can’t
fail.
    Gary Tharaldson of Fargo, North Dakota, shows a healthy self-confidence
when he says, “If I had to do it all over again, I know I could.” Believing you
can is the crucial first step to any success, let alone a billion-dollar bank
account. He adds, “The height of your success will be proportionate to the
depth of your self-belief.” Jon Huntsman of Salt Lake City agrees, saying,
“You must believe you can succeed or by definition you have failed.” When I
asked Fred Levin of Pensacola who he considered the smartest person he
ever met and what he had learned from him or her, he said, “Good
question… hmmm… I have never known anyone who thinks as logically as I
do.” That’s the confidence and self-belief of an RMIT. After a few beats, he
offered up his law partner, Martin Proctor, as one of the most “effective”
people he has ever known because of his outstanding organizational skills—
skills that Levin covets highly. Levin’s response to this question was not
unique. Pete Nicholas said, “There has been no Disraeli-like figure in my
life, though many people have touched and influenced me in many ways.”
Most RMITs had a hard time answering the question of who is the smartest
person they know because, let’s face it, they are that person.
    Thirty-something Philadelphia boy wonder, technology guru, and venture
capitalist Josh Kopelman is one smart RMIT—no doubt the smartest guy he
knows, though he would never admit it. He would admit, however, that he
knows how to spot a good opportunity, and that he knows a thing or two
about good ambition addiction. He sold his company Half.com to eBay in
2000 for $355 million, at the age of twenty-nine. “I’m hoping to step up to the
plate dozens of times in my lifetime,” he says, “and I’m hoping that my
lifetime batting average is high—that’s what it’s all about. There is always a
next rung on the ladder of success.”
    But as you climb those rungs of success, Chicago’s Sam Zell says, the real
secret to success is what he calls his eleventh commandment: “Thou shalt not
take oneself too seriously.” Even so, Zell is described by most who know
him as audaciously ambitious, but he simply calls himself a “professional
opportunist.” He recently availed himself of the opportunity to attempt a
much-needed turnaround of the 165-year-old Tribune Company, the media
conglomerate that owns the Chicago Tribune, the Los Angeles Times, the
Baltimore Sun, the Chicago Cubs, and twenty-three TV stations. Often a
contrarian, he still believes that old media like newspapers have some life
left in them in the Internet age. When asked what his greatest achievement is,
he says, “I don’t ever respond in terms of epiphanies or greatest
achievements because I’m still achieving. One day, I’ll be judged by the body
of my work, but right now I’m still working!”
    “Still working” also characterizes Wayne Huizenga, Fort Lauderdale’s
colorful billionaire. At seventy, he continues to have the keen ambition and
desire to spot new opportunities. Even with the successes of Waste
Management, Blockbuster, Auto-Nation, Extended Stay America, and enough
other companies to stretch to the sports stadium he owns in Miami, Huizenga
is always thinking about the next wealth-creation opportunity. When asked
what the future holds for his old company, Blockbuster, in this digital age, he
says, “I don’t own the stock now.” While he may not be bullish on the
company as it currently exists under New York RMIT Carl Icahn’s auspices,
Huizenga can’t help but ponder another possible future for his old home.
“Blockbuster has fifty-five hundred stores, and if you and I could figure out
what to do with them, we could create the next great American business,” he
muses. “We could acquire the company for half a billion dollars, and if we
could put the right things in those fifty-five hundred stores, we could hit a
huge home run. Blockbuster’s real estate is either a huge opportunity or a
huge liability, but if we could turn those fifty-five hundred stores into
something else that the public really needs, we could create another
multibillion-dollar company.” Like the typical RMIT that he is, he never
stops thinking, searching, or questing. He is as ambitious today as he was
when he started out hauling trash for a living.
    Bob “Mr. Alaska” Gillam, like Huizenga, never stops thinking about the
future—and like Sam Zell he never takes himself too seriously. He says, “I
employ a sense of fun and adventure in everything I do.” He is as ambitious
in his extracurricular activities as he is in managing money. That sense of
adventure leads him to fly airplanes, go snow skiing, and invest billions of
dollars around the world through his investment company, McKinley Capital
Management. He says, “In the early ’90s when I started McKinley Capital,
people thought I was mad to start a money management firm in Alaska, but
my ambition drove me to prove them wrong.” That ambition allowed him to
jump some big hurdles, not the least of which was his remote location; at that
time, Anchorage was not a major communications center. “We couldn’t
afford T-1 lines,” Gillam says, “so we were one of the first investment firms
to use satellite for data transfer.” RMITs find solutions to often-vexing
obstacles because their ambition and confidence allow them to take on what
might seem like insurmountable problems to the less ambitiously addicted.
    “Solving the seemingly unsolvable is what I do best—it is what turns me
on most,” says Philadelphia’s Josh Kopelman. Gary Tharaldson, the richest
man in Fargo, notes, “I have created the greatest ESOP [employee stock
ownership plan] the US has ever seen.” That’s confidence. It’s confidence
with caring, however, because creating his company’s ESOP was his way of
sharing the wealth with those who have helped him create his near-billion-
dollar fortune. “I wanted to share the wealth, even with the maids in my
hotels.” Tharaldson Enterprises operates more than three hundred hotels and
motels nationwide. “From my youth,” Tharaldson continues, “I always
wanted to create something on a big scale. I wasn’t sure what that would be,
but I knew whatever it was, it was going to be big.” He has good ambition
addiction. Ambition, then, at its most essential, seems to boil down to the
love of hard work in a business you love. Solving the seemingly unsolvable
is hard work; creating a fortune is hard work; managing and motivating a staff
of people is hard work; and being a great financial engineer is hard work.
But to RMITs, hard work is great fun. It’s what drives them each morning
with a sense of anticipation and excitement.
    Every morning in my youth, my father used to wake me by saying, “Get
up, boy—you can’t make a crop lying in bed!” This exclamation is the good-
morning greeting that I awaken my three sons with today. Like my father, I
grew up on a red-clay Georgia farm, though I can’t honestly say we raised
“crops” as he had when he was a boy. His family raised cotton, corn, and
sugarcane. By the time I was ready to work, the Jones farm was not the
typical Southern cotton plantation. Instead, we raised chicken and a nice herd
of beef cattle. Even though my involvement with my family’s farm was
minimal—at least that’s what my brothers claim—I understood from an early
age the significance of that statement “You can’t make a crop lying in bed.”
To this day, every time I even think of sleeping in, I’m haunted by my dad’s
all-too-true philosophy.
    Joe Taylor, the former CEO of Southland Log Homes and current
secretary of commerce for the state of South Carolina, puts it this way: “It’s
not an elephant hunt. I always tell young people there is no substitute for hard
work and diligence. It takes eight hours a day of hard work to be a success,
but it takes most people twelve or thirteen hours a day to do eight hours of
good work.” It seems so cliché to say that there is no substitute for hard work
in becoming successful. How many times have we heard this from our
parents, mentors, and loved ones? Ben Franklin’s suggestion in The Way to
Wealth, first published in 1785, was right then and continues to be right
today: “Diligence is the mother of good luck.”
    While the alchemy of hard work, dedication, and perseverance create
ambition and the resultant good luck, Scottsdale, Arizona’s Bruce Halle, the
Discount Tire dynamo, doesn’t discount the power of regular old sheer, dumb
luck. “Yes, you make your luck, but sometimes luck can make you. I love
snow, because when it snows, we sell more tires. We call those lucky
winters, so each winter I always hum, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”
    Luck, no doubt, plays a role in becoming the richest man in town, but it is
ambition that fires the imagination of these folks. RMITs make their luck by
showing up, by hard work, and by a high-octane ambition. Bob Gillam’s
voice became deeper and more resonant as he made this serious statement:
“When things go wrong—and they always do at some point, for all of us—the
answer 100 percent of the time is three words: go to work. Activity and
sadness are completely incompatible. The minute you start feeling productive
is the minute the depression dissipates. It is the moment when possibilities
emerge; it’s the moment when hope is once again alive. You can always work
your way out of failure, loss of self-esteem, or short-term depression when
you become productive.”
    Jon Huntsman, the richest man in Salt Lake City and a risk-taking
chemical baron, comments, “I don’t give myself credit for having the golden
touch as much as I do hard work. I think that is the very definition of an
entrepreneur.” Every RMIT in America knows both victory and defeat, but
their ambition, their persistence and diligence, and their ceaseless
appreciation for hard work have made them the great successes they have
become. Says Frank Hickingbotham of Little Rock: “The greatest gift in our
life is the ability to work.” David Jones of Louisville, Kentucky, sums it up
perfectly: “There is no mystical magic to success and great wealth creation,
just hard work, dedication, and a big dose of diligence.” Benjamin Franklin
would be proud.
—Thomas Jefferson
Be Early
    The greatest advantage we are all given is youth. It’s the ultimate equal-
opportunity gift. What do Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Google co-founder Sergey
Brin, and Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg all have in common? They all
started what became billion-dollar companies before their twenty-fifth
birthdays.
    Risk only increases with age, so RMITs concur: You’ve got less to risk
when you start young, plus you have much more time—not to mention more of
what Bruton Smith calls essential energy—to get it done. Ron Rice, who
began selling his Hawaiian Tropic suntan lotion on the beaches of Daytona as
a young high school teacher, feels strongly about this: “Youth is your greatest
asset. It’s the last time it will be risk-free.” Hartley Peavey began building
his Meridian, Mississippi–based guitar and music amplifying business when
he was a junior in college. Michael Dell, the richest man in Austin, Texas,
started his computer company out of his dorm room at the University of
Texas.
    But Dell Computer wasn’t Michael’s first business. He didn’t start out as
a tech titan, but rather as a philatelist. At the age of twelve, he started Dell
Stamps. In his book Direct from Dell, he writes, “I got a bunch of people in
the neighborhood to consign their stamps to me. Then I advertised Dell
Stamps in Linn’s Stamp Journal, the trade journal of the day. And then I
typed with one finger, a twelve-page catalog and mailed it out. Much to my
surprise, I made $2,000.” Dell writes, “I learned an early powerful lesson
about the rewards of eliminating the middleman. I also learned that if you
have a good idea, it pays to do something about it.” When he was sixteen, he
got a summer job hawking subscriptions for the Houston Post. The
newspaper gave Dell a list of phone numbers and instructed him to begin
dialing for dollars.
    In the style of a true RMIT, he found a better way. He learned from his
random calls that the people most likely to buy subscriptions were those who
had just gotten married or received a new mortgage—what is called in
marketing parlance “key transition periods.” He procured public-records
lists from the state of Texas and proceeded to make $18,000 in one summer
by targeting the right market. Dell was already a serial entrepreneur by the
time he started building computers out of his dorm room.
    Pat McGovern started even earlier by delivering newspapers when he
was only eight years old. He remembers the book that first fired his
imagination. Giant Brains; or, Machines That Think by Edmund Callis
Berkeley, first published in 1949, helped determine the destiny of this young
man from Philadelphia. Berkeley’s book “was all about how these new
computer systems were going to amplify the human brain by amplifying your
memory and by giving you access to more facts than your own brain can
readily recall,” McGovern explains. “I was fascinated that these machines
could quickly analyze patterns in information and give instant insights into the
significance of the facts and data, thereby multiplying your analytical
intelligence.”
    McGovern, though, was not your typical science nerd. In fact, there is
nothing average about McGovern or his intelligence. He says, “When I got
this book at the Philadelphia library, I thought, Wow this is great, because the
unique characteristic of Homo sapiens is our brain, and this machine is an
amplifier of our brains. I took my newspaper delivery money and went down
to the hardware store and bought plywood boards, electronic relays,
switches, and lightbulbs, and hand-wired a device that was an automatic
computer that played tic-tac-toe in a way that was unbeatable. I entered the
science fair and won the prize.”
    It would be the first of many prizes for McGovern. “At the science fair, I
was discovered by an alumnus of MIT who said, ‘I think you should study the
brain as a model for designing electronic systems, and I think we can get you
a scholarship to MIT.’ ” That prized scholarship became a reality, and so did
McGovern’s dreams of marrying the brain and the computer. While still in
college, he saw an ad for an associate editor position posted by the only
computer magazine in existence at the time. As you might suspect, he got the
prize job. A major perk was his high-level access to the key people in the
computer industry.
    One fateful day, he met with the head of Univac, the company that created
the original computer that forecasted Eisenhower’s presidential victory. The
gentleman said to McGovern, “Our industry is being held back because we
don’t have a good database of where the computers are installed and how
they are configured or what the future buying needs of the users are going to
be.” Just like the lightbulb on the science-fair-winning tic-tac-toe computer
of his youth, the lightbulb of a new idea went on in McGovern’s brain. He
informed the Univac executive that he was aware of about ten thousand
computer sites at the time; he could call the companies, banks, and hospitals
that used computers and put together such a database. The executive asked
him, “How much would that cost?” McGovern quickly said, “I could
probably do that for about $40,000.” The executive responded, “Pat, that
won’t work.” McGovern assumed he simply wanted a discount and said,
“Well, if I hire high school students where I live to crunch the data, maybe I
can do it for $36,000.” To McGovern’s surprise, the Univac honcho said,
“You don’t understand, Pat. No one would trust information as cheap as
you’re proposing to provide it. Make it $80,000 and we will take it
seriously. Information is intangible, and the higher the cost, the higher the
perceived value.” By starting early, McGovern learned a valuable lesson that
he never would have gotten as a middle-aged man. People like to help the
young. He also learned to never underprice his product. His company today
has revenues in excess of $3 billion—and his personal net worth is double
that. Pat McGovern is proof positive that it pays to start early.
    Leroy Landhuis, a former air force pilot and current real estate regent of
his adopted hometown of Colorado Springs, grew up in the small town of
Leota, Minnesota, the son of a farmer who believed, perhaps too fervently, in
the biblical passage, “Spare the rod, spoil the child.” Landhuis built up his
work ethic and his muscles on the family farm, doing every chore his strict
father demanded, including what he calls “picking rock” to clear the
farmland for planting. A good athlete who played football and ran track, he
found what he terms a “noble way” to leave home: enlisting in the air force,
where he earned a whopping $200 a month. “It was more money than I had
ever seen,” he says.
    Landhuis learned to fly and actually enjoyed the disciplined environment
of the air force (a piece of cake compared with working for his father).
Unfortunately, he developed bleeding ulcers and was forced to leave the
service, but he never returned to the family farm. He decided to stay in
Colorado Springs and build a new life. Landhuis, however, never let those
emotional scars of his childhood affect his desire to become a major
American success. By his early twenties, he had become a hugely successful
residential real estate salesperson. In his spare time, he started buying homes
and renovating them. “I slept on the floor for three years eating nothing but
rice in order to be able to afford the improvements,” he says. Today the
Landhuis Company is the premier real estate development and management
firm in Colorado Springs, owning thousands of acres of land for
development, and his Paradigm Realty Advisors in Tulsa, Oklahoma,
manages several thousand square feet of office and commercial space.
Landhuis started early, and—even more important—he started building
assets early.
    A common trait of all RMITs is their early work experience. Air force
brat and biotech billionaire Randal “RJ” Kirk of Belspring, Virginia, began
selling greeting cards door to door when he was nine. He boasts, “I had an
85 percent success rate!” The richest, boldest, and, at least at Halloween, the
scariest (I’ll explain shortly) man in Cleveland, Tennessee, Allan Jones (no
relation) had a paper route when he was in the sixth grade. He got up at 4:00
a.m. to deliver the Chattanooga Times to the eighty-one homes on his route.
He would finish two hours later, then grab his fishing rod and fish until it was
time to devour a quick breakfast before going to school at 7:45. “I failed the
sixth grade… twice,” he says, “but I never missed a day of work.”
    Jones started early, and he developed a work ethic that has served him
well. During the holidays each year, he led a group of his friends to collect
post-celebration Christmas trees, just to see how many he could gather.
Ultimately he staged a big bonfire party to end the holiday season before
returning to school. By the fourth year of his venture, he had filled his
parents’ yard with more than twenty-seven hundred discarded Christmas
trees. It was the beginning of his lifelong fascination with trees. He says, “I
kept a homemade sales thermometer in the front yard posting the number of
trees collected for all of Cleveland to see.” In our interview, I commented to
Jones that he must have loved the money this early venture brought in,
assuming he and his buddies were paid to take away the ornament-free trees.
He replied, “I didn’t make any money on this. I was never motivated by the
money, I was simply motivated to be the best of the best.” (See RMIT
Commandment #1.)
    Money became more of a motivator when, as a teenager, Jones founded
his first official business with the rarefied name City Bushogging. He took
his tractor door to door, offering to mow the large expanses of grass inside
the city limits of Cleveland, Tennessee, for $8 per hour with a $10 minimum.
    Harvard psychiatrist George Valliant spent the majority of his career
studying the predictors of future success, and he proved that childhood work
ethic was one of the most accurate ways to predict adult success, mental
health, and even the capacity to love. Valliant’s conclusion was based on a
longitudinal study of 456 young men from inner-city Boston whom he began
studying when they were fourteen. As a teenager, each young man was
assigned a rating for his ability to work. They were then re-interviewed at
ages twenty-five, thirty-one, and forty-seven. The results were impressive:
Those who had the highest work ethic rating at fourteen earned five times
more than their cohorts who ranked lower. Not only did they far outpace their
less motivated compatriots financially, but they were happier and had far
more successful marriages and social relationships.
    William D. Sanders, one of the most respected real estate investors in
America and the richest man in El Paso, Texas, was on the board of the
University of Chicago when he learned that the school boasted more Nobel
Prize winners than any other college in the country: fifty-eight, to be exact,
twenty-three more than Harvard. He says, “What is interesting is not just the
sheer number of Nobel laureates that have come out of the University of
Chicago; it is their analysis that 90 percent of them did their prizewinning
work between the ages of twenty-one and twenty-nine.” Fittingly, Sanders
wrote his first business plan when he was just eight years old. He
remembers, “I always knew I wanted to be a businessman. Some kids wanted
to be firemen, some wanted to be lawyers; I wanted to be in business, my
own business.” He found his perfect pitch and started his own business early.
(See RMIT Commandments #2 and #3.) That’s why he is the richest man in
town.
    Whether it was delivering newspapers, working on the farm, or mowing
lawns, RMITs didn’t just fantasize about becoming successful when they
grew up; they got out there and began the march toward that future. Many did
so because they had to, in order to help support their family or to have any
disposable income of their own, but most worked early because they wanted
to accomplish something, to prove to themselves that they could be a success.
Buzz Oates, the California real estate baron, says, “I grew up in Sacramento
one block from the old fairgrounds, and during fair time each year, I would
sell newspapers and collect Coke bottles to resell. I would also happily
mow lawns for 50 cents.”
    Oates couldn’t have dreamed then that only a few years later, he would
own the very fairgrounds where he’d picked up cola bottles. The fairgrounds
of his youth became a small part of his vast real estate holdings. Ron Rice
thinks it’s never too early to take the plunge into new waters. “You don’t
have to know everything about a business to start a business,” he says. “If
you wait until you know everything—something impossible, by the way—
you’ll never get a business off the ground.” When Albany, New York’s
Karthik Bala and his brother Guha started their video gaming business in
their parents’ basement, both were still in high school. “We were young,”
Karthik says, “and we had nothing to lose by pursuing our passion.”
    Philadelphia’s Josh Kopelman says, “I started my first business
[Infonautics] in college, because when you’re young you enjoy a vastly
different risk–reward ratio.” As a sign of what the future would hold, he also
notes, “I had business cards for all my entrepreneurial ideas when I was
seven years old.” Inexperience can actually be an advantage: George
Johnson, the Spartanburg, South Carolina, serial entrepreneur, says, “I like to
hire young people because they haven’t learned what they can’t do.” Youth
may be the single greatest advantage we are all given. Don’t waste it. RMITs
didn’t.
    Bruton Smith, the richest man in Charlotte, North Carolina, brought
automobile racing to Wall Street. But before he did that, he built the Charlotte
Motor Speedway, which he opened in 1960. It all started for Smith when he
was seventeen and bought his first race car. He says, “Mozart got a piano. I
got a car and my passion became my vocation.” David Green, founder and
CEO of Hobby Lobby and Oklahoma City’s richest and perhaps most low-
key citizen, recalls that a woman came to him recently requesting a loan of
$100,000 to build a business selling salad dressings to the national grocery
chains. Green suggested to her that she should just make a few cases of the
salad dressing and sell it to the local IGA first. She almost fell out of her
chair laughing at what she thought was such an antiquated notion.
    He said to her, “Well, I’m sorry, ma’am, but that is the only way I know
how to start a business.” He told her about how he and his wife started out
making and selling picture frames in their garage, and on their kitchen table,
while still in their twenties. That little business, thirty years later, is a $2
billion concern giving Green a $4 billion net worth. Starting early and
starting small is one of the surest paths to a large fortune.
    RMITs also believe that it is never too late to make that crop, because
wisdom truly does come with age and late blooming is, of course, better than
never blooming at all. The average richest man in town earned the title when
he (or she) was fifty-one. Dan Duncan, now in his seventies and the majority
owner of the $7 billion Fortune 500 company Enterprise Partners (the second
largest publicly traded midstream energy partnership in North America),
became the richest man in Houston, Texas, in his sixth decade. He believes
strongly that wisdom is acquired over a lifetime of experiences, both good
and bad. He cautions that one of his greatest life lessons was to stick to what
he knows: “Every time I ventured into businesses that were not my main
expertise, I lost money. It took me a lifetime, it seems, to realize that.”
    The average age of America’s RMITs is currently sixty-five, proving that
wisdom truly does come with age—no matter how brilliant or dedicated you
are, there is no substitute for experience. And real experience requires more
than a few laps around the track of life. The sooner you begin building that
wealth of experience and wisdom, the sooner the financial remuneration rolls
in.
Wake Up Early
   The early morning has gold in its mouth.
                                                          —Benjamin Franklin
    To start early, you must also start your day early and show up early.
“Don’t procrastinate,” posits Mal Mixon of Cleveland, Ohio, “because in
only two days, tomorrow will be yesterday.”
    RMITs don’t put off until tomorrow what should be done today, and they
are scrupulously punctual. Ninety-eight percent cite the ability to show up,
and show up on time, as being integral to their success. Punctuality
demonstrates discipline and respect for others. Karthik Bala of Albany, New
York, says “Nothing is more destructive to one’s personal success than the
inability to be on time, because it sends a powerful statement of arrogance,
self-absorption, and disrespect to those with whom you are meeting.” Dennis
Albaugh—famous within his company for saying, “Nothing is beneath me or
beyond me”—was a very typical RMIT when he set a phone appointment for
our first interview; he called two minutes early. He respects his time and he
respects the time of others.
    Jim Harrison of Tuscaloosa says, “Procrastination is really just the fear of
success. People procrastinate because they are afraid of the success that they
know will result if they move forward. Success is difficult. It carries with it
huge responsibility, so it is far simpler to put off responsibility than it is to
accept it.” Many of us choose inaction over action. As San Antonio’s Red
McCombs says, “Action can at times cause pain, often sharp pain, but would
you rather have a few sharp pains or a lifetime of chronic, consistent pain?
Who wants to be a coward?” Not McCombs. Bob Stiller of Burlington,
Vermont, says, “Nike got it right when they launched the advertising slogan
‘Just Do It.’ ” So just do it and do it early—do it now.
    • Start young.
    • Show up early.
    • Don’t let education insecurity hold you back.
    • Put yourself in situations where you experience collateral learning.
                    RMIT COMMANDMENT #6
—Thomas Edison
FAIL TO SUCCEED
   I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. That’s why I
   succeed.
—Michael Jordan
—Winston Churchill
If you are afraid to fail, stop here. Don’t waste your time reading the rest of
this book. Please give this book to a more ambitious friend of yours. My
conversations with dozens of RMITs suggest strongly that the only way to
succeed is to have the courage to fail, and fail publicly. Perhaps the greatest
commonality among RMITs—other than their ambition addiction—is the
willingness to face failure and the resilience to pick themselves up and make
the next step toward a better outcome.
    Jim Oelschlager of Akron, who made his fortune through Oak Associates,
a leading money management firm, says, “Don’t be afraid of failure. Failure
is a part of life. Absolutely every successful individual has had several
failures. You learn a lot from your failed experiences, and you will find that
generally people are very forgiving of your failures. Perhaps one of the
saddest things to see is a person who approaches retirement age and regrets
not having taken chances when presented with opportunities because they
were afraid to fail.” Failure is not fatal, and RMITs simply are not afraid of
it.
    David Rubenstein, who founded and runs the Carlyle Group, says, “Hope
that you fail and hope that you fail early.” This seems easy for him to say as
he sits atop a multibillion-dollar fortune. Yet he believes it with every ounce
of his being. Rubenstein strongly asserts, “Nobody has uninterrupted success.
Everybody has failures, and those who have too charmed a life early in the
first third of their life more likely than not will not be stars in the next third of
their life, or certainly the final third of life. The folks who end up being on
the Forbes 400 list or winning Nobel Prizes are people who did not have all
the awards and all the success in the early part of their lives.”
    In other words, if at first you don’t succeed, join the not-so-exclusive club
alongside such members as Michael Jordan, one of the richest athletes in
sports history; J. K. Rowling, one of the richest authors in history; Steve
Jobs, one of the richest men Silicon Valley has ever produced; and members
emeritus, including Thomas Edison and Abraham Lincoln. It’s a very
powerful and prestigious club. Michael Jordan was cut from his high school
basketball team as a sophomore. J. K. Rowling was famously rejected by
more than a dozen publishers before her first Harry Potter chronicle was
finally published. Steve Jobs initially couldn’t get anyone interested in his
first Apple computer; he sure didn’t have that problem with his iPod. It took
Thomas Edison more than a thousand tries to create his first working
lightbulb. Michael Jordan’s boss at Nike—Oregon’s richest man, Phil Knight
—famously said, “The trouble with America isn’t that we’re making too
many mistakes—it’s that we’re making too few.” David Rubenstein, the good
political science major he was, agrees. “Just look at some of the recent
presidents of the United States. Franklin Roosevelt ran for vice president in
1920 and was defeated. [He] subsequently came down with polio but went
on to become president in 1933 and serve three terms—more than any other
president in history. Harry Truman had a haberdashery that went bankrupt.
Most folks thought Dwight Eisenhower’s military career was over after
World War II. He was simply an executive assistant or gofer to Douglas
MacArthur. John Kennedy literally had last rites given to him three times, but
he overcame his physical ailments and became the youngest president in
history. The same is true with virtually every successful business leader I
have ever met.” All of the members of this failures’ club ultimately achieved
monumental success. Success and great wealth creation demand that you
refuse to be afraid of failure or what your friends and family and neighbors
might think.
    Fear of failure is the single greatest impediment to reaching your personal
American Dream. David Jones, the founder of Humana and Louisville,
Kentucky’s RMIT, says that the best advice he has given all five of his
children is, “If you go to the plate and strike out ten times, you are no worse
off than a coward who never went to the plate at all. In fact, you’re way
better off, because you tried.” Anchorage, Alaska’s Bob Gillam says,
“Success is not so much about winning as it is repairing damage when you
lose.” Like David Rubenstein, he believes that “there is one great certainty in
life—you will lose at some point.” It makes great sense, then, to not only
learn from your own mistakes and failures but also to learn from the mistakes
of others. No one lives long enough to make them all themselves.
    Your success is measured by how you handle that failure and how
resilient you are. Resilience is the character trait that I most admire in
Carrollton, Georgia’s RMIT, Bob Stone. He has reinvented his computer
processing company, SMI, almost as many times as Madonna has reinvented
her look. “We have essentially gone bankrupt three times, though no one
knew it,” he says. The first time he reinvented his company was to change
from a service bureau that created payroll processing and accounting
services for local businesses into a government outsourcing business that
processed and distributed food stamps. This repositioning reaped millions in
profits, until the government suddenly decided that only banks could
distribute food stamp benefits via debit cards. Stone’s company was not a
bank, so suddenly the very foundation of his business was crumbling. Thanks
to his son Joe’s insight, at about the same time the food stamp business was
looking bleak, SMI was morphed into a provider of systems and tracking for
the government branch that distributes child welfare benefits to custodial
parents. Today this business yields $40 million a year. Stone’s failures were
not fatal; on the contrary, they became opportunities for Stone to reinvent his
company and revitalize his fortunes. He has proven that whatever forces of
change come his way, he can adapt and find success. Stone proves that your
success is often determined by the velocity of your resilience. Failure really
is your friend.
     “Since childhood, most of us have been brainwashed with the maxim, If
at first you don’t succeed try, try again—well, it’s true,” says Ron Rice, the
founder of Hawaiian Tropic and the richest man in Daytona Beach, Florida.
It took Rice six tries to get it right. He started out his career as a teacher and
a coach, and though he loved both teaching and coaching, Rice laughs about it
now: “I taught for eight years at seven schools and was fired six times.”
Clearly, he needed to work for himself, to be his own boss. No one can doubt
his persistence and certainly not his resilience, but it took him eight years and
six failures to realize fully what he was destined to do, what he could be
most passionate about, what his perfect pitch was. In Rice’s case, that
passion was for pitching suntan lotions to beautiful women. He says, “My
failures taught me my greatest lessons—the most important thing I learned in
life was that when I fell down, I could get back up.”
     The Chinese use the same word for both “opportunity” and “crisis”—out
of failure often comes our most stunning successes. Roxanne Quimby points
out that one of her heroes, Abraham Lincoln, arguably one of the most
effective presidents in the history of the United States, had a veritable
laundry list of failures: “He had a general store that went bankrupt, was
defeated in his run for the Illinois state legislature, had a nervous breakdown,
was defeated for Congress, was defeated for the US Senate, and was
defeated in his nomination for vice president, yet he persevered and became
the sixteenth president of the United States.” Sid Richardson, the famous
Texas oil wildcatter who created the multibillion-dollar fortune that is now
the Fort Worth Bass family wealth, once said, “I’ve been broke so often that I
thought it was habit-forming.” Spartanburg’s George Johnson says, “If
mistakes made scar tissue, you couldn’t see me.” You can certainly see him
today leading the charge on his newest hotel venture with partner Wayne
Huizenga. Their OTO Development Company is building and operating a
billion dollars’ worth of new hotels all across America.
     Meridian, Mississippi’s Hartley Peavey, with his characteristic frankness,
says, “Hell, I’ve had multiple failures, and anyone who tells you they haven’t
is a big fat liar.” He particularly remembers creating what he believed was
the best drum set ever. To get the high-quality sound that astounded many of
the greatest drummers in American music, the design had to be unlike any
other drum set. The quality was unprecedented, but so was the look. Some
might say the drums were downright weird; Peavey says they were “butt
ugly.” The famous drummer Kenny Aronoff tried the drums and thought the
sound was the best he had ever played, but he told Peavey, “They just don’t
look right.”
    Despite the tremendous time, effort, and investment, Peavey couldn’t sell
the innovative product because the drums didn’t look like what drummers
thought drums should look like. The design was a disaster both stylistically
and economically. What Peavey thought was a sure thing was a flop. He
admits there have been many other innovations that have not caught the
interest of the market, but in each case, he has learned a lesson that has
benefited his future product introductions. Failure can breed success.
    Peavey is an inventor at heart, and that passion for inventing new products
is what created a highly successful $300 million company unmatched in the
music business. One of his other companies, Media Matrix, provides the
sound systems for the Sydney Opera House, the Great Hall of the Republic in
China, the Disney theme parks, and the US House of Representatives. As
Peavey and every successful scientist will agree, a failed experiment is often
the grist for a future success. He says, “Winners learn from the past and let go
of it. Losers yearn for the past and get stuck in it.”
    RMITs agree with Theodore Roosevelt’s fervent belief that, “It is not the
critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles,
or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs
to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and
sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and
again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who
does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great
devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the
end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least
he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold
and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”
    “Defeat is the prelude to every great success story,” says Frank
Hickingbotham, the founder of TCBY and the RMIT of Little Rock,
Arkansas. “There is no such thing as failure unless you quit, and I never quit.
I had several setbacks and I tried to learn a lesson from every one of those
defeats, but I never, ever quit.” For RMITs, all defeats are temporary; they
are rarely down for the count, and they have a near-limitless capacity to pick
themselves up, dust themselves off, and set about trying their next big idea.
Hickingbotham started as a teacher and school administrator, then worked his
way up the insurance sales ladder with National Investors Insurance
Company. He founded a restaurant company and two food companies before
spotting the potential in frozen yogurt. There were many bumps along the
way, he says. “But I never saw a closed door—there was always a crack of
light peeping through.”
Resilience Is Sweeter
    Often the unexpected outside forces are just the incentive you need to
make the move to change your life. The R in RMIT should stand for
“resilience.” Atlanta’s Bernard Marcus, the founder of Home Depot, was
fired from Handy Dan, one of the original home improvement retail chains,
when he was forty-nine. He and Arthur Blank (also fired) started Home
Depot and ultimately put their old employer out of business. For others it
could have been sweet revenge, but not for Marcus and Blank. To the
contrary. “I always knew that I wanted to own my own business, and it took
getting fired for me to do it,” Marcus says. “I said to myself, ‘This is God’s
will for this to happen to me and I’m going to take full advantage of it.’ ”
With Home Depot, one of the greatest business successes of all time, under
his belt, a couple of billion dollars in his pocket, and a personal foundation
that has already given away hundreds of millions of dollars, there is no need
for sweet revenge. Signaling both his amazing resilience and his forward-
thinking attitude, Marcus says, “I rarely think about where I came from. I
think about the here and now. People often look at the Home Depot success
and only see the good times, the great result. They don’t see all the hard times
we had. We had some very treacherous years, and it took a tremendous
amount of energy, dedication, and determination to make it work. It’s like
childbirth; it’s difficult labor, but the gift that comes from that hard work
causes one to forget the pain of the time.”
    North Carolina’s Bruton Smith learned about failure and bankruptcy early
in his career, only two years after starting the Charlotte Motor Speedway.
Because he didn’t have the capital to save the business, he was forced to
place his company under bankruptcy protection. Rather than being the big
boss as he so enjoyed, he was soon working for a trustee put in place by the
bankruptcy court to restructure the company. Many people in this situation
would have been depressed, daunted, and demoralized. Not Smith. He
proudly asserts: “I became the trustee’s best friend. He called me all the
time, because I knew the business; he didn’t. I worked for him for a year—
for free—because I was determined to reorganize the business and regain
control. We ultimately paid off all the creditors and here we are today, a
thriving company.” Smith is now a billionaire and Charlotte’s RMIT.
    Notwithstanding two exceptions—Jonathan Nelson of Providence, Rhode
Island, and Phil Ruffin of Wichita, Kansas—all the RMITs in this book
offered that at some point in their careers, they had failures. Most have
“enjoyed” multiple failures. These stories are not isolated examples of a few
remarkable RMITs rising above adversity. Business catastrophes are
universal: The fact is that 70 percent of all new businesses fail in their first
year. RMITs are not immune.
    On the contrary, their willingness to take risks makes them more prone to
failure than a corporate drone who never takes any chances. But they have
embraced their mistakes, learned from them, and persevered in the face of
failure. Louisville, Kentucky’s David Jones had what he thought was a
brilliant idea for making acute medical care easily accessible to the
consumer with a fast-food approach. Med Purse was a doc-in-the-box
concept that allowed a person in need of immediate care to stop by a no-
appointment-necessary facility in a local strip mall. Consumers loved the
concept and the convenience, but Jones and his team had forgotten they had
another critical constituency—namely, doctors. The doctors who were
affiliated with Humana’s hospitals became disgruntled at this new
competition and threatened to boycott Humana (Jones’s cash cow) if Jones
continued to build his Med Purse retail business. Jones learned the hard way,
through a devastating failure, that you can’t shoot the goose that laid the
original golden egg. “That failure,” he says, “reinforced the tenet of focus. I
had focused on the wrong thing and lost sight of the real gold mine, Humana.”
    Former basketball star Michael Jordan is not the richest man in his
current hometown of Chicago—Sam Zell is—but he could well be one day
given his business acumen off the court. Nevertheless, Jordan has said, “I’ve
missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games.
Twenty-six times, I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot and I
missed. I’ve failed over and over, and yet, that is why I succeed.” In some
cases, these RMITs had near-cataclysmic failures before they achieved their
defining success. Bruton Smith’s bankruptcy at the Charlotte Speedway could
have been the end, but instead it was the beginning of a billion-dollar fortune.
The “butt ugly” drums that Hartley Peavey had such a personal and financial
investment in could have sent him into a dark depression, or Michael
Jordan’s failed shots could have thrown him off his game. Didn’t happen.
RMITs know that failure often leads to their rightful success path. They
recognize failure’s inevitability and learn from each mistake along the way—
and yet they are never totally satisfied with their performance. Just as they
don’t fear failure, they don’t totally trust success. That’s a powerful part of
the RMIT DNA.
    Even when business is good, the specter of failure helps RMITs stay
sharp. Although he has built a $4-billion-plus fortune and has homes in
Manalapan, Florida, and Grand Rapids, Michigan—all the comforts of a
rich, full life and more—Richard DeVos, the ace of Amway, rated his
success at 5 on a scale of 1 to 10. Most Americans would kill to have his
track record and his fortune, but DeVos points out the dangers of
complacency: “Every business and every person must constantly reinvent
themselves if they desire to stay at the top of the heap. It pays to be a little
paranoid.” That’s why billionaire Andy Grove, senior adviser to Executive
Management and former chairman of the board of Intel Corporation, wrote
his book Only the Paranoid Survive. According to Grove (who, by the way,
is not the richest man in San Francisco with a net worth of $4 billion—Larry
Page of Google fame is), “Every leader will eventually reach a nightmare
moment—when massive change occurs and a company must, virtually
overnight, adapt or fall by the wayside.” He calls such a moment a strategic
inflection point. “When a strategic inflection point rears its ugly head, the
ordinary rules of business go out the window,” says Grove.
    William D. Sanders agrees wholeheartedly: “Unless you have the most
perfect patent in the world, you can never totally relax.” When I asked
Columbia’s Joe Taylor, who is now the commerce secretary for the state of
South Carolina, to name the one thing that most affected his success, he stated
bluntly, “I’m constantly paranoid.” Growing up with a father who was a
serial entrepreneur, he said, “One week we were the richest folks in the town
and then the next we were the poorest. I vowed then that I never wanted to be
on that societal seesaw. For my father, the fun was in the start-up, not in the
execution of the business or the day-to-day management. I vowed to be good
at both.” He certainly has been, and his paranoia has paid off prodigiously.
    Companies have strategic inflection points, and so do individuals. RMITs
are masters of resilience and reinvention. Roxanne Quimby says, “You can
never dust yourself off and say, I’m done. Success is a process, and most
people simply quit too soon. People love the rags-to-riches stories, the
overnight-success syndrome, but I believe that is a cultural myth. Hard work,
perseverance, and never being too satisfied or too comfortable is what
ultimately leads to real success.”
    When asked to rate their success on a scale of 1 to 10, 85 percent of the
RMITs claimed a number between 6 and 8. Even though the poorest among
these RMITs is worth a conservative $100 million, most don’t feel they have
knocked the ball out of the proverbial park. Harris Rosen of Orlando,
Florida, who has recently completed his third major hotel property in
Orlando—a fifteen-hundred-room golf resort with more than 350,000 square
feet of meeting space, making it the largest in this convention city—says, “If
Shingle Creek is a success, then maybe I’ll rate myself a 9.”
    Dan Duncan, who is perhaps the quietest billionaire in America, certainly
in Houston—a town where, as the saying goes, money is shown as much as it
is grown—confidently articulates, “I’m never satisfied! I always know that I
can do a better job, I can live a better life, I can treat people better than I
have, and I can and must always work to improve myself.” Archie “Red”
Emmerson remembers that his father was a hard worker, but he didn’t have
the ambition young Emmerson possessed. “My dad was satisfied to just make
a living. Not me, I have never been totally satisfied.” Stay paranoid—it
keeps you on your toes, it keeps you pushing for that next rung on the ladder
of success. Never fear failure; it is your friend. Remember, no pain, no
progress.
No Pain, No Gain
   The principle “No pain, no gain” has been made famous by numerous
exercise gurus and muscle machines, but it applies even more aptly to
becoming truly wealthy. Hartley Peavey of Meridian, Mississippi, says, “I
believe that life is a test to see how much BS you can take. The problem with
most folks is that when the going gets tough, they stick up their hands and they
surrender.” In good old Mississippi fashion, he calls it “the watermelon seed
syndrome. That’s what happens when you put a watermelon seed between
your thumb and forefinger and squeeze,” he explains. “The seed flies right up
—you can’t hold on to it.” Peavey believes the watermelon seed syndrome is
what happens to most people in business and in life. They can’t take the
pressure, they give up too soon. They don’t pass his test of handling the BS
that life inevitably throws at all of us.
    Peavey sums it up by saying, “Without question, failure is painful.
Paranoia, though, helps to keep one sharp. Never feeling as though you have
truly made it can be difficult. Yet in moderation, paranoia, pain, and failure
are all healthy. Failure isn’t fatal. And paranoia can breed progress.”
    For many RMITs, what Hartley Peavey calls “life’s BS” means coming
from hardscrabble circumstances or having a family that lost it all when they
were young. Leroy Landhuis of Colorado Springs grew up on a farm “dirt
poor,” as he says. Fellow real estate developer Jorge Pérez of Miami was
born to educated, wealthy Cuban parents who lost everything in the Cuban
Revolution. “I saw what it was like to go from having everything to having
nothing at all.” Pérez did not want history to repeat itself, so he pursued his
education in Argentina and Colombia vigorously before coming to the United
States to attend college at C. W. Post and then earn a master’s degree in
urban planning from the University of Michigan. Even though his business is
the largest Hispanic-owned company in America and has blessed him with a
multibillion-dollar net worth, he says, “I have never played the Hispanic
card. I have never used it to get ahead. I never wanted to be considered a
Hispanic developer—I just wanted to be considered a great developer.”
—Buzz Oates
RMITs are perhaps best described as the rooted rich. They make their
fortunes in the places they know best, and their stories prove that success can
take place anywhere and everywhere. The hundred examples in this book
come from cities with populations as small as 169 (Belspring, Virginia) and
as large as 8 million (New York City). In short, most RMITs (81 percent) are
doing business in their hometown.
    As Buzz Oates, Sacramento’s favorite son, says, “There is no greater
success than hometown success.” Alex Hartzler, the lawyer-turned-tech-
entrepreneur-turned-real-estate-developer of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania,
agrees, but takes it one step farther: “I happen to think that small towns are a
great place to do business and have a real meaningful impact.” Hartzler and
Josh Gray bought a controlling interest in the performance-based advertising
solutions company Webclients, where Hartzler served as general counsel. In
just four years, after the Internet bubble had burst, Hartzler and his partners
were able to sell the company to ValueClick for $141 million. Today
Hartzler is developing the historic areas of midtown Harrisburg through his
real estate development company, WCI, which stands for Webclients Inc.—
the source of his and his former partner’s initial wealth.
    Jonathan Nelson loves his hometown. “There is a reason why Providence
Equity is headquartered in Providence, Rhode Island, and not New York or
London, where we have offices,” he says. “It has to do with personal choices
about lifestyle and culture. The motivation for starting the firm in Providence
was not about money [see RMIT Commandment #1]—it was about having a
company with shared values and taking a different approach to the human
side of our business. We succeeded here where conventional wisdom would
say we should not. In fact, we turned those differences into a competitive
advantage. Not starting in New York, having a different perspective, having a
brand that is best identified as Providence, differentiates us from our
competitors. And it turns out that difference is appreciated by CEOs and
investors around the world.” Nelson found his perfect pitch in Providence.
    Fred Levin—Pensacola, Florida’s star trial attorney—made his fortune in
his backyard, too. He is also one of the few attorneys who has achieved the
position of being an RMIT. Levin is proud of his hometown and says, “I
never thought about living or working anywhere else.” Jim Oelschlager of
Akron, Ohio (population 209,000), notes, “A lot of brokers and analysts from
New York City ask me why I don’t live in New York, to be in the center of
the action. When they come to Akron and see how close my home is to my
office, they understand. I am close to work, close to the woods, and I had a
nice place to raise the kids. With modern communications systems, you can
do the job from anywhere.”
    Anchorage’s RMIT, Bob Gillam, who manages $17 billion of investor
funds out of his Alaskan hideaway, agrees: “No one ever told me I couldn’t
do it here.” Gillam’s mission at McKinley Capital is to provide alpha to his
investors—beating the benchmarks in each product category, whether it is
large cap, small cap, global growth, or US growth. He notes, “We can do that
anywhere in the world—why not here in Alaska, where we have three
million lakes, which means I have three million runways for my floatplane?
Besides, I couldn’t find a place to land my floatplane in New York City.”
    Bob Stone of Carrollton, Georgia (population twenty-two thousand)—my
hometown—lands his jet near his hangar at the West Georgia Regional
Airport and can’t imagine landing it anywhere else. The former college
professor with a love of computers and a gift for math merged his talents to
form his perfect pitch, which helped him create his fortune by virtue of a
good deed. The local office of the Family and Children’s Services
approached Stone when he was still teaching at West Georgia College in
1973 and asked if he could create a computer program to facilitate the
management and distribution of food stamps. He spent an entire weekend
working on the challenge, and the program he wrote was so successful in
taming an otherwise unwieldy and largely manual process that the word
spread to all the other counties in the state. Stone was in business, and soon
his company Systems and Methods was handling the food stamp programs for
all 159 counties in the state of Georgia. His only competitor was Citibank,
the largest bank in the world. (That’s high cotton for small-town Georgia.)
Stone proves that success can happen anywhere if you have the right stuff and
the ability to adapt to change. But perhaps the right stuff that he has the most
of is his resilience. He has reinvented his company three times when the
landscape shifted beneath him, but each time he kept his feet on the ground,
and he continues to land his jet and keep his fortune in Carrollton, Georgia.
    Buzz Oates was born in California’s state capital, Sacramento (population
407,000), and built his businesses and his fortune there. Oates says, “I never
intended to leave. This is my home.” It is, too, although now he owns most of
it. When it comes to building a fortune, size matters, but when it comes to
where you build it, population size clearly does not. The idea that you must
go to one of America’s biggest cities to be successful is simply not true.
From Pensacola to Palo Alto, from Savannah to Sacramento, the individuals
in this book prove that great wealth can be created anywhere in America.
Frank Hickingbotham built three companies, including TCBY Yogurt, in
Little Rock. Former schoolteacher Judi Paul built Renaissance Learning in
her Wisconsin Rapids basement, before moving to Boulder, Colorado. In
1968, pregnant women were not allowed to teach school, so instead she
began building her company as a stay-at-home mom. Hartley Peavey made
his music and his money in Meridian, Mississippi, population forty thousand.
Red Emmerson of Anderson, California, created his multibillion-dollar
timber and forest products fortune in a town of approximately eleven
thousand. George Johnson built his billions in Spartanburg, South Carolina,
population thirty-nine thousand and RJ Kirk built his biotech businesses and
his billions in Radford, Virginia, population sixteen thousand.
   It takes twenty years to build a reputation and five minutes to ruin it. If
   you think about that, you’ll do things differently.
—Warren Buffett
Would you rather be the CEO of GE or CEO of Enron? The leaders of both
companies were, for a time at the turn of the last century, gods of success,
achievement, ambition, and wealth. But Ken Lay was no Jack Welch or Jeff
Immelt. Ken Lay, Jeff Skilling, Andy Fastow, and other senior executives of
what was at the time the seventh largest corporation in America quite simply
lost their moral moorings.
    The Enron boys are a perfect example of what Boston’s Pete Nicholas
warned of in Commandment #4, what he called “ambition without a
conscience.” Their fate shows that fortunes without a moral foundation are
nothing more than mirages destined to disappear faster than they were
created. Enron committed the fourth of Gandhi’s seven sins: Commerce
without Morality. For a time, Enron created colossal wealth, but look at the
catastrophic costs: suicide, death, humiliation, or, for the lucky ones, jail
time. Jackson, Mississippi’s onetime richest man in town, Bernie Ebbers of
WorldCom notoriety, was perhaps the most charismatic cooker of the books
in business history until Bernie Madoff made off with $50 billion of other
people’s hard-won money. Ebbers perpetrated a $180 billion fraud. The
result: nine conspiracy and fraud convictions and twenty-five years in jail.
He will be in his late eighties when he is scheduled to be released. He
became a moral agnostic. This is not how you want to live the last third of
your life. Ebbers and Madoff are two examples where failure was not a
friend. Moral failure is never friendly.
    Moral failures are instructive—lessons can be learned—but their
consequences are dear. Tyco’s Dennis Kozlowski lost his moral moorings.
He gobbled up businesses with gusto and built Tyco from a $40 million
company to a $40 billion enterprise, a remarkable achievement… or so it
seemed at the time. Sadly for him, and for Tyco stockholders, he dipped into
the company till to the tune of $170 million for his personal self-
aggrandizement, according to charges brought against him in Manhattan’s
State Supreme Court. Kozlowski will go down in history as the CEO who
lived like a pasha—the man who couldn’t live without that six-thousand-
dollar shower curtain—the man who believed in prosperity at any price.
After his trial and conviction, from his jail cell in upstate New York, he told
Morley Safer of 60 Minutes, “I was a guy sitting in a courtroom who made
$100 million a year. And I think a juror sitting there just would have to say,
‘All that money, he musta done somethin’ wrong.’ ” The judge, the jury, the
press, and the stockholders all believe he did. One juror said, “He got his
just reward.” These are not the results that America’s RMITs are seeking,
certainly not their kind of just rewards. Ethics are not optional.
    David Green, owner of Oklahoma City’s Hobby Lobby, built his $2
billion, four-hundred-plus-store, privately held company on a $600 loan
based on one ethical principle: the Golden Rule. “My ruling business
philosophy has always been, Do unto others as you would have them do unto
you.” It’s a shame Ken Lay, Bernie Ebbers, Dennis Kozlowski, and Bernie
Madoff didn’t adhere to the Golden Rule. Green, the son of an Assemblies of
God minister, says he started his own company so that he could create an
environment that was morally superior to what he had experienced at TG&Y,
a retail chain that is no longer in business. A good example of those values is
that David Green does not open any of his Hobby Lobby stores on Sunday;
they are open only sixty-six hours a week so that his employees can have a
life outside of work. He cites Wal-Mart’s ninety-hour weeks as a
comparison. Even though Green forgoes over $100 million a year in sales
because of this decision, Hobby Lobby is still so profitable that Green gives
away 50 percent of his company’s profits each year to philanthropies that he
believes in. The other 50 percent is plowed back into the business for
expansion. This year, Hobby Lobby will open twenty to thirty new stores
with that profit.
    George Johnson of Spartanburg doesn’t talk about God, but he does
believe in the Golden Rule, and he believes strongly that “the three most
important words in the English language are tell the truth.” Salt Lake City’s
Jon Huntsman says aptly, “There are no moral shortcuts in the game of
business or life. There are basically three kinds of people: the unsuccessful,
the temporarily successful, and those who become and remain successful.
The difference is character.” No one ever said it is easy to become an RMIT,
to reach the zenith of success and wealth. Difficulty is not daunting to these
great successes. Huntsman has a plaque proudly displayed in his office with
a quote he loves from former CBS newscaster Edward R. Murrow:
DIFFICULTY IS THE ONE EXCUSE THAT HISTORY NEVER ACCEPTS.
Having grown up dirt poor, Huntsman knows difficulty intimately. He
worried where his next meal would come from during his youth, his company
was on the brink of bankruptcy twice, and he has survived cancer three times.
But he never used any of those difficulties to cut corners.
    Karthik Bala, one half of the brother team behind Vicarious Visions in
Albany, New York, is sincere when he says, “My and Guha’s idea of success
is helping our colleagues fulfill their own aspirations.” Putting others’ needs
first often ensures that you become the first-place winner. David Rubenstein
agrees: “You should never be afraid of letting other people take credit.” An
insider in Washington, DC, where success has many founders and failure has
none, he quotes Ronald Reagan: “There is no limit to what a man can
accomplish if he is willing to let someone else take the credit for it.” Red
McCombs of San Antonio says, “One of the most important keys to real
success—the kind you can feel good about in the quiet of the night—is to
know deep in your heart that you have done right by folks.” Doing right by
folks is one of the surest ways to build what is, arguably, the most precious
asset we all have the ability to possess, our reputations.
Reputation Rules
    When asked how he personally defines success, William D. Sanders of El
Paso, Texas, says without hesitation: “Reputation.” In his successful real
estate career, he has been keen to change the negative image that many in that
profession have created. Today, as always, he values his reputation as his
most definitive success and greatest asset. Harris Rosen of Orlando says, “In
my business of hotel and real estate development, I’m not selling bricks and
mortar, I’m selling my reputation.” Fully 96 percent of RMITs cite reputation
as their most important and bankable asset. Sacramento’s Buzz Oates says,
“People have got to like you, love you, and respect you. Your reputation is
your most valuable asset.”
    Reputation has many constituencies, many masters—employees,
investors, customers, bankers, suppliers, and even competitors. Bill Doré,
the main man from Lake Charles, Louisiana, says, “The reputation you earn
from managing your relationships, both in business and in your personal life,
is the single most important key to success.” Doré started pushing a lawn
mower for money at age seven and worked alongside his father in the New
Orleans shipyards as a tacker during his teenage years. But no matter how
you earn your money, he says, “The most important work you will ever do is
work to create a spotless reputation.” His sterling reputation with his
competitors—which at the time included larger, more well-known companies
like Brown and Root, McDermott Drilling, and Santa Fe—helped him
become the guppy who gobbled the whale, because he got the first call when
his competitors were thinking about selling. He built Global Industries into a
powerhouse in offshore construction for the oil and gas industries in the Gulf
of Mexico and around the world on the basis of his reputation.
    Your integrity is not just a competitive asset—it’s also a financial one.
Charlotte’s Bruton Smith points out: “The bankers have the money, and they
don’t lend you a billion or even a million unless your reputation is spotless.”
He advises, “Keep your nose clean and your reputation as shiny as a new
car.” Auto racing’s biggest personality is right—keep your reputation tuned
up. Doing right by others always means doing better for yourself.
—Joe Ricketts
Be a salesperson and be proud of it. It has often been posited that nothing of
commercial consequence happens until something is sold—an idea, a
product, a service. True enough. But many people (almost always
unsuccessful ones) hate the idea of sales. They detest being labeled a
salesperson; they often see sales as sleazy, the low end of the business and
professional food chain. Old images of used-car salesmen or fast-talking
door-to-door peddlers are fixed in many people’s minds. RMITs eschew
these old stereotypes. In fact, they love to sell. Great wealth creation
requires great selling skills. Dr. Tom Frist of Nashville, the founder of
Hospital Corporation of America, says, “While I may have gone to med
school to become a doctor, I graduated a salesperson. Selling the concept of
better health care for all has been my mission, my passion, and my wealth-
creation mechanism.” He has sold it well, too. In 2006, HCA was bought by
a private equity consortium of Bain Capital and Henry Kravis’s Kohlberg,
Kravis and Roberts for $33 billion. Frist had billions before; he has even
more now.
    No one would ever use the term sleazy salesman when referring to
Washington, DC’s David Rubenstein, as he sits in his immaculate Manhattan
office with a view of Central Park. The fact is, he is very much a proud
salesperson. A lawyer by education and a former White House domestic
policy adviser, the private equity investor places great importance on the
power of persuasion. Borrowing from his Beltway experience, he says, “The
president of the United States is arguably the most powerful person in the
world, right?” I nod yes on cue. He continues, “While that might be true, the
only real power the president has is the power to persuade—the power to
convince Congress to see an issue his way or the pulpit from which to
persuade the American public to see his point of view. If you cannot
persuade people to do things, you simply will not be a success. Because you
are not an island unto yourself, everything in life is about persuading people
to do what you want them to do.”
    Joe Ricketts, the Omaha, Nebraska, success story who made TD
Ameritrade into the second largest discount brokerage in the country (behind
Charles Schwab), says, “Nothing happens until something is sold. Nothing
happens unless someone sells something, and that begins the chain of
commerce.” Ricketts is a proud salesman, having begun his career at Dun
and Bradstreet as a credit analyst. It was through this entry-level job that he
learned how businesses really work. It is also where he learned that there is
often a big difference between the actual performance of a business and its
appearance. It taught him something even more valuable—that he wanted to
own his own business (RMIT Commandment #3). There was one problem,
however: He had no money. Given this minor issue of zero capital, he got a
job as a commissioned salesperson for the stockbrokerage Dean Witter.
“This was the next best thing to owning my own business,” he says, “because
as a commissioned salesman, I was in total control of my own destiny. It was
like owning my own business, except I didn’t have to contribute any capital.”
    He sold well. With the money he earned from his brokerage sales, he was
able to realize his dream of starting his own company. Progress is rarely
realized, and wealth certainly isn’t attained, unless we use our powers of
persuasion to make the ball of commerce roll. Ricketts is right: Nothing
happens until something is sold.
    Pat McGovern agrees that selling is the fuel for the engine of commerce.
Since he began his career as a computer magazine editor, he prefers the
approach of interviewing particular customers or potential customers and
then deciphering their unique needs. He says, “If my job had been to sell
someone something they didn’t need, I would not have been very good at it.”
By uncovering the needs of potential clients and then presenting solutions to
their problem—ideally with a product or service that he could provide—he
created a win–win situation. He declares that the best sales scenario is when
the customer gets what he or she needs and the seller gets fair value for his or
her service or product. “That’s how you build critical long-term
relationships,” McGovern says.
    Joe Taylor of Columbia, South Carolina, the former CEO of Southland
Log Homes and current South Carolina secretary of commerce, loves sales
because it is the process that translates a business idea into that scoreboard
of success. “While I was running Southland,” he says, “I woke up each day
cherishing the thought of selling another log home—the whole sales process
intrigued me because it brought together every aspect of our business and
was the ultimate metric of my success and the company’s success.” Perhaps
the key to Wayne Huizenga’s scorching achievement record is his ability to
sell an idea to the people who help him make his vision a reality. He says, “I
have taken six companies public, and three of those are Fortune 1000
companies, but the key to my success has been my ability to sell other people
on my dreams.”
    Huizenga has always had big dreams—but more important, thanks at least
in part to his superior salesmanship, he has made those dreams real. Starting
with one garbage truck in 1968, he parlayed trash into several billion
dollars’ worth of treasure. Waste Management became the nation’s largest
waste disposal company, as Huizenga led the acquisition of more than a
hundred trash-collecting companies in less than nine months in 1972. Under
his leadership, Blockbuster opened a new video rental store every seventeen
hours for seven years. He says, “When we bought Blockbuster, it had a
market capitalization of $32 million. We sold it seven years later to Viacom
for $8.5 billion, resulting in a 4,001 percent increase in value.” Huizenga
found the founder in himself early in life; like Chicago’s Sam Zell, he also
found the professional opportunist and, more important, the superior
salesperson within.
    Along with his good friend George Johnson, the richest man in
Spartanburg, South Carolina, Huizenga bought and built the hotel business
Extended Stay America. This dynamic duo later sold Extended Stay to Steve
Schwarzman’s private equity powerhouse Blackstone Group for a whopping
$3 billion. Today, at seventy years young, Huizenga isn’t slowing down,
either. He owns 51 percent of the Marriott Hotel in Fort Lauderdale, is the
only man to have owned all three major sports franchises in Miami (the
Dolphins, the Marlins, and the Panthers), and, almost as a reprise, he and
George Johnson are together creating another hotel development company
called OTO. He knows how to sell his ideas, and when to sell his
companies. That’s the billionaire’s brilliance.
    David Jones, the formidable founder of Humana and the lion of
Louisville, Kentucky, says having a clear and easily communicated idea is
the single most important commandment of true success. “Borrowing from H.
L. Mencken, if you can’t write your idea on the back of my business card—
you don’t have an idea!” He further states, “The biggest key to my success
has been my ability to communicate and sell my ideas.” The big idea that he
sold with powerful passion for more than thirty years, the Humana
Corporation, made him a billionaire. At the time he stepped down from the
company, Humana was a $20 billion company. Fred Levin, the attention-
loving trial attorney of Pensacola, stresses the importance of execution
(RMIT Commandment #6) in sales: “Sales is much more than making a
strong presentation. For me, it means always returning every single call,
always being open to possibilities of what might result from that small
courtesy.”
    Vermont’s Bob Stiller wasn’t receiving much courtesy from the local
banks he was courting for expansion capital while trying to build his coffee
business. As with most RMIT companies, Green Mountain nearly bit the dust
a few times along the way to its eventual sterling success. “No one ever said
the entrepreneurial life is an easy life, but it sure is an exciting one,” says
Stiller. It probably wasn’t so exciting when he had exhausted his entire
fortune derived from his earlier EZ Wider success in attempting to build
Green Mountain into a profitable business. His new company needed growth
capital desperately in the early 1990s, and Stiller sold or collateralized
virtually every worldly possession he owned (including his art collection,
plane, and home) in order to convince lending institutions that he was serious
about the future prospects of the company. This is where his salesmanship
benefited him greatly. He never thought it wouldn’t happen—rather, he just
continued to focus on how it would. Ultimately, he convinced a Boston bank
to loan him money. Indeed, it offered even more working capital than the
company needed, and that inspired the local Vermont banks to change their
minds about loaning Green Mountain money.
    He then sold all five of the retail shops he’d opened and began to focus
exclusively on the wholesale coffee business. “I had no money for
advertising so I went out and sold the coffee myself. I did coffee-tasting
demonstrations in supermarkets,” says Stiller. Proving that even for a man
who had made a fortune in his first entrepreneurial business, Stiller clearly
understood the concept no job too big, no job too small, and he knew there
was no substitute for selling. He says, “I was selling for survival.” Survive
he did. Stiller’s selling skills catapulted Green Mountain into the most
successful premium coffee company in the country.
    Sacramento’s Buzz Oates is a supreme salesperson, too. He remembers
that early in his career, when he saw people mowing their lawn with an old
or worn-out mower, he would stop and offer them $20 for their old mower
and invite them back to his store for a personal demonstration of his new
models. He almost always closed the sale and would then deliver the new
mower and demonstrate it for his new customer. He believed in building
customer loyalty because he had plans to sell them appliances, carpet that he
imported from Europe, and virtually any other household need imaginable
during that period of post–World War II economic expansion. His superior
selling skills transformed Buzz Oates from a boy with a dream of being a key
maker to a billionaire real estate developer.
    Perhaps the most low-key RMIT I met while researching this book was
Birmingham, Alabama’s super salesman Miller Gorrie. You would never use
the term flamboyant to describe this great success story; nor would you
suspect that he inherited the sales gene from his IBM salesman father.
Nevertheless, in his quiet, unassuming way, he has built Brasfield and
Gorrie’s revenues from $800,000 in its first year of business to more than $2
billion today, making it one of the largest privately held construction
companies in the country. He says, “Intellect is not the most important thing in
success. Street smarts is.” He believes in hiring and sharing the wealth with
what he calls “gorillas”—those key folks who make big contributions to the
success of the company. These gorillas have street smarts and stellar selling
skills. Summing up his strong beliefs, he says, “The street-smart people make
the money; the intellectuals don’t.” What do all of these great success stories
have in common? While they all have high IQs, they have even more evolved
EQs (emotional quotients). They have highly developed people skills, often
big personalities, and the persuasive natures that make them RMITs.
I not only use all the brains that I have, but all that I can borrow.
—Woodrow Wilson
RMITs are smart enough to know that they don’t have all the answers in
business or in life. Perhaps this is why they are such eternal students—and
perhaps it’s the reason one of their common denominators is their almost
universal interest in reading biographies of other successful people. They
value those people who keep their antennae high in the air, and they strive to
stay attuned to new ideas, new and better approaches to wealth creation.
   The founder of IBM was someone Pat McGovern borrowed wisdom and
accepted advice from. Early in McGovern’s career, Thomas Watson
suggested that there was a huge market in education for technology end users.
McGovern took that wise advice and subsequently founded Computerworld
magazine, the cornerstone of what is now International Data Group (IDG),
which brings computer information to those end users. He followed on
Computerworld’s success by building an events and conference business to
bring tech education to both the industry and consumers. McGovern
borrowed from the best. From Watson, he learned his greatest business
lesson—stay close to your customer. Always focusing on the needs of
customers, staying in constant contact with them and their needs, allowed
McGovern to build a $3 billion company that today has more than $1 billion
in readily deployable cash, with virtually no initial investment capital—only
the $5,000 from the sale of McGovern’s car.
    Always borrowing from the best, McGovern recalls asking the head of a
major publishing company what he thought the core principle of the business
was. The executive said, “Making your readers successful.” That was simple
yet radical advice, as McGovern notes that many in the publishing industry
think the business is all about selling advertising or making beautifully
designed pages. He never forgot that trenchant wisdom, and it has served him
well. McGovern is also thankful that a top Univac executive admonished him
for underpricing his research and advised him to sell his computer research
widely to all the technology companies. With that counsel, McGovern sent
letters offering his research to ten companies and almost immediately
received nine checks for $80,000 each in his mailbox. Those nine checks
provided him the base capital to start his business without having to borrow
a penny. Pat McGovern instead borrowed ideas from the best—and therefore
didn’t have to borrow from the bank. That’s why he has $6 billion in the bank
today.
    Like McGovern, El Paso’s Bill Sanders borrowed ideas and inspiration
from Tom Watson. He says, “I read everything he ever wrote; I studied IBM
and the Watson philosophy on the power and importance of human capital,
and it deeply affected how I ran and how I run my businesses today.” In fact,
Sanders told me that while running LaSalle Partners, the giant real estate
investment trust company that he founded and later sold to GE for $2 billion,
he hired more than a hundred managers from IBM. Even though they had little
or no real estate experience, what they did have was a culture and training
that, at the time, was the best in the business. He says, “I even started
wearing buttondown collar shirts just like Tom Watson, and I still do.”
    Sanders also borrowed from one of his peers while he was at Cornell
University. He wasn’t exactly a straight-A student in high school—and as he
describes it, he was “lucky to be at Cornell”—but as luck would have it, he
was fortunate to have a roommate whom he labels a rare genius. Sanders
knew that he could not catch up to his friend in engineering or physics, so it
gave him a powerful motivation to achieve an even greater level of success
in business. His silent goal (see RMIT Commandment #6) was to show his
roommate, and his fellow students, that he could make it big in the business
world. “My environment was a propulsion mechanism for me,” he says.
     Playing in the big leagues forces you to raise your game, and you pick up
a lot of pointers. Judi Paul of Boulder, Colorado, found her inspiration
growing up in small-town Baxter, Iowa, through reading books. She says,
“There wasn’t anything else to do.” There was no library in her hometown,
only a Maytag factory, but there was a bookmobile that she looked forward to
visiting when it rolled into town once a week. The tomes it brought to her
town transported her to new and exciting places. She says, “Books made my
world much larger than Baxter, Iowa.”
     That love of reading—which she could not easily instill in her own kids
years later, in the video age—presaged the creation of her wealth. She
created an Accelerated Reader program that became the basis for her
educational software company Renaissance Learning, Inc. Her aha moment
came when she called home shortly after arriving at the University of Iowa.
She told her father that having come from a small town, she didn’t know if
she was going to be able to make it at the big university. She whined that her
contemporaries seemed to have already taken college-level courses and
seemed light-years ahead of her. Her father said, “Well, Judi, if you can’t cut
it, you can always come home and work in the Maytag factory.” She says,
“My dad didn’t know it at the time, but he had just delivered one of the
greatest motivational speeches of all time.” Judi Paul found that she was able
to compete thanks to all those books she borrowed from the bookmobile and
from the motivation she received from her dad.
     Gary Tharaldson, Fargo’s RMIT, proudly says, “I came from nothing.”
Yet he builds, on average, twenty-five new hotel properties a year without an
original idea. “I like to borrow an existing concept and make it better,” he
explains. “Building hotels is not a new idea or a new business, but I found
you could duplicate a successful concept, make it even better, and create one
hell of a business. I have borrowed from Bill Marriott’s successes, but I have
added my own unique touches. For example, I was the first to put the laundry
room behind the front desk so the night manager could also do the laundry
when there was little else to do.”
     Jim Harrison of Harco Drugs, Bill Kellogg of Kohl’s Department Stores,
David Green of Hobby Lobby, and Bernie Marcus of Home Depot all cite
Sam Walton as both a friend and someone from whom they learned valuable
lessons. Scottsdale, Arizona’s Bruce Halle also borrowed wisdom from the
Wal-Mart founder, including humility. “Sam Walton was the best retail mind
America has ever created, and I studied everything he ever did to see what I
could steal. Every time I think we have done well, I remind myself that Sam
Walton started Wal-Mart in 1960, the same year I started my tire business,”
he says.
    Halle has probably supplied many tires to fellow Arizonans, including
Tucson’s richest man in town, Jim Click. Click, who owns thirteen of the
most successful automobile dealerships in the country, says he borrowed
wisdom and insight from both his father and his dapper rich uncle. He
remembers vividly the lesson his folksy Oklahoma father taught him about
quitting. Young Click called home one evening while he was at Oklahoma
State University to say that he was going to quit playing football. Jim said,
“Dad, these guys are just too good for me. I’m just an all-American average
boy, not an All-American football player.” His dad retorted, “Bullshit—I
didn’t raise you to be just an all-American average boy.” Then, after a
dramatic pause, he said to his dejected son, “Okay, son, you’re right—I think
I’ll just quit, too. Business is tough; I don’t want to worry about feeding your
brothers and sisters or putting you through college, or providing for your
mother. It’s just too much work. I’m done, too.” Father Click was so
convincing that Jim said, “Don’t do that Dad. If you don’t quit—I won’t
quit.” Fortunately for young Jim, he hung in and even got to play center for
Oklahoma State, featuring Walt Garrison in the backfield. Garrison would
later join the Dallas Cowboys as their star fullback. “Thanks to Dad’s
psychology,” Click says, “I got to play with a great player like Garrison—
never mind that it was because all the other centers quit the team.” Click
didn’t.
    The word quit was not in the vocabulary of Click’s uncle Holmes Tuttle,
either. Tuttle was a member of Ronald Reagan’s “kitchen cabinet,” and he
played a large role in helping Reagan become president in 1980. He also
played a critical part in helping Click become the richest man in Tucson.
Click recalls fondly that his uncle Holmes was the big family success story,
who had left Tuttle, Oklahoma, and hitchhiked to California to make his
fortune. And he eventually made his fortune, though like most RMITs, he
needed a few tries and over twenty years to do so. His success and lavish
lifestyle were legend within Click’s Oklahoma family.
    Holmes Tuttle got his big opportunity just after World War II when Henry
Ford asked him to be the first Ford dealer on the West Coast. His success
with that dealership gave him a lifestyle that Click would come to covet and
today enjoys himself, thanks in part to Tuttle’s inspiration and mentorship. He
says, “Uncle Holmes had a big house in Hancock Park, fancy cars,
fashionable clothing.” The Tuttles traveled first-class to Europe frequently.
“In 1966,” Jim Click recalls, “Uncle Holmes was taking his family to Europe
and he invited the poor relation, me, to come along. Having never been
outside of Oklahoma, this was a life-changing experience.” Click’s grand
tour began in Paris, where they stayed at the Bristol Hotel and ate at world-
famous Maxim’s restaurant. Then it was London, where they stayed in the
Dart family’s luxurious flat. After the theater and the opera, it was off to the
Glen Eagles Hotel in Scotland, where tuxedos were required each evening.
“I liked this lifestyle,” says Click, remembering what it was like when he
was just twenty-two. He realized then, thanks to his uncle’s inspiration, what
he wanted out of life—and it was more than a small Oklahoma town could
provide.
    When his uncle offered him an opportunity to come sell cars in Tucson, he
didn’t hesitate. He is still selling cars today in the dealerships that he owns
with his cousin and partner, Bob Tuttle, and he still loves every minute of it.
He lives even better than his famous uncle did. When I ask how his life
differs from his uncle’s, he says, “Well, I have a nice plane.” That says it all.
As Sacramento’s sage, Buzz Oates, told me, “You’ve got to be at least $150
million rich to have your own jet.” Uncle Holmes would be proud. Click
borrowed from the best. In his case, the best just happened to be his wealthy
uncle.
    Christel DeHaan of Indianapolis also borrowed inspiration from her
extended family. She says, “I was inspired by the entrepreneurship of my
mother’s uncles. Their success excited me. Their abilities to run their own
companies proved to me that it was possible.” Jonathan Nelson of
Providence has, for most of his career, been the youngest person in the room
in his business dealings; he has consequently been exposed to many older,
more seasoned executives from whom he has learned both good and bad life
lessons. He says, “Wisdom truly does come with age, but you can also learn
a lot that you don’t want to employ in your life and your success.” Early in
his career, before founding the multibillion-dollar Providence Equity
Partners, he met a very successful company founder and CEO who at the time
was in his eighties. The man told Nelson that whenever he was sick, he
would cross the nearby state line and stay in a hotel rather than remain in the
comfort of his home. When Nelson asked him why he always left town when
he was ill, the man replied, “I can only spend 180 days a year in my home
state for tax reasons. I don’t want to waste a single working day when I feel
good.”
    That made no logical success sense to Nelson. “I vowed that I would
never think like that or live like that,” he says. The man was a legendary
success in business who clearly had vast amounts of money—more than he
could ever spend or even give away effectively in the last decade of his life.
And yet he left the comforts of his own home when he was under the weather
in order to save a few tax dollars. Just as we often learn our most valuable
lessons from our own failures or mistakes, if we are wise and observe
carefully, we can also learn vitally important life lessons from the mistakes
of others—even those who have been huge successes by virtually every
commonly held measure.
    One easy way of borrowing from the best is to read about the best. When
it comes to reading for pleasure, Dr. Thomas Frist of Nashville, like many
RMITs, says, “I only read biographies. I have never read fiction; life’s too
short to read made-up stuff. I read biographies about the most exciting,
accomplished, and successful people in the world and in history. Right now,
I’m reading about Alexander Hamilton—a founding father of our country and
America’s first Treasury secretary.” Red Emmerson, the billionaire timber
baron of Anderson, California, says, “I have never subscribed to the Wall
Street Journal, but I love to read biographies of successful people. There is
always something to learn from the best and brightest in America—people
who have experienced life or business differently than you have. Right now
I’m reading about Alan Greenspan and John McCain.” Memphis’s Fred
Smith cites George C. Marshall as a role model and mentor even though he
didn’t know him personally. He adds, “My favorite book is American
Caesar, the biography of General Douglas MacArthur, by William
Manchester.” Smith credits his service in the US Marine Corps for the
development of his leadership skills, which he has used while building
FedEx into the $24 billion company that it is today.
    Roxanne Quimby didn’t have a mentor or most influential person who
affected her success, but like Fred Smith she says, “I have had heroes and
heroines from history that I have kept at the top of my mind my whole life.”
She admires two figures in particular because “both were amazing leaders
and inspirations. I remember reading once that if you are going to be a
woman CEO—since there are so few of them today—learn about Queen
Elizabeth I’s life, because she was the first real female CEO. Granted, she
was CEO of the English Empire, but she was a highly successful one. She
reigned over England as their first female king for forty-five years of peace
and prosperity. She was quite a turnaround artist—she had inherited a
kingdom from her father, Henry VIII, that was in tatters. As the daughter of
Ann Boleyn, who had been brutally executed, she rose out of the ashes in a
very feminine way and led her constituency into prosperity and peace through
her enormous courage and intelligence. I love her in a way that one can only
love a dead mentor, but she has always been a major inspiration for me.”
Quimby has also been inspired by and borrowed from President Abraham
Lincoln. “He took a country that was divided and put everything on the line
for unification,” she says, “and he was the one to say, ‘Keep your friends
close and your enemies closer.’ He put his detractors in his cabinet, and a lot
of what he did can be applied to the business world and to success today. In
Maine, I didn’t have access to female business mentors, so I had to dream up
my role models from history, and I think they have served me well.” She
borrowed from the best.
NEVER RETIRE
Find something you truly love to do and retire for the rest of your life.
Based on what you have read so far, it should not surprise you that
retirement is anathema to RMITs. RMITs believe that retirement is hazardous
to their wealth and, even more important, hazardous to their health. Because
their definition of success is about enjoying the journey, they simply can’t
fathom a life of leisure, of daily golf games, or God forbid of sitting on the
front porch watching life pass them by. Instead, they envision a future much
the same as their past—a life filled with activity, business building, and
continuing wealth-creation opportunities. When I asked coffee king Bob
Stiller of Green Mountain Roasters about his thoughts on retirement, he shot
back, “I don’t have any!” Sacramento’s Buzz Oates, who is in his eighties,
says, “My life would be boring if I were to retire.” Ron Rice of Daytona
Beach notes, “I think retire is something you do to your car every three years,
period.” Like all of us, even RMITs have to re-tire their automobiles, but
they certainly don’t plan to retire themselves. Stiller, Oates, Rice, and their
fellow RMITs believe that retirement is not only hazardous to your wealth
and health, but hazardous to your fun, too. When you love what you do, you
can’t imagine suddenly not doing it any longer. Retirement is particularly
detrimental to the self-identity of active and ambitious people. For RMITs,
their work not only defines them but is their single greatest avocation as
well.
    “I want my tombstone to read, THIS IS HIS LAST REAL ESTATE
DEAL,” says Wichita’s multibillionaire Phil Ruffin. “There is always
another mountain to climb, another deal to do, another party to attend.” A
high school dropout whose first job was flipping burgers, Ruffin knows
something about deals, as well as about never slowing down to rest on your
laurels. In his seventies now, Ruffin recently sold thirty-four of the forty-one
acres he owns directly on the Las Vegas Strip for $41 million an acre. He
also recently married a former Miss Ukraine, calls Donald Trump his best
friend (The Donald was The Best Man at his wedding), and travels wherever
the next deal takes him aboard his new $70 million Boeing Business Jet.
“Retirement? Hell no. You just can’t do it. Why would you ever retire when
you’re living this large and having this much fun?” Boston’s Pete Nicholas of
Boston Scientific agrees: “Most great successes never believe they have
achieved the ultimate end point. They are never really done.” In fact, this
belief that they are never finished is the jet fuel that keeps their minds sharp
and their private planes soaring.
    Iowa’s pesticide prince, Dennis Albaugh, isn’t done, either. He enjoys the
good life as a vintage car collector, golf lover (he has his own golf course in
his backyard in Iowa), racehorse aficionado, and boater when he’s at his
home in Florida. He says, “Retirement is not in the cards. I have created a
life where I can do pretty much anything I want. Why would I ever retire?”
Tucson’s Jim Click can’t imagine slowing down or giving up the fun of
selling another car: “I love what I’m doing so much that I have been retired
all my life,” he says. His father—who once poignantly said to his son, “Find
something you love and retire for the rest of your life”—would be proud.
    Eschewing retirement does not mean that RMITs are stuck in a static,
lifelong mold, however. Instead they are masters of continual personal
reinvention. They are not just serial entrepreneurs, they are serial change
artists. Hollis, New Hampshire’s Pat McGovern still runs the company he
started with the $5,000 proceeds from the sale of his car, but he has also
invested $350 million in the McGovern Institute for Brain Research at MIT.
“Our research has conclusively proven that we are all capable of
neurogenesis—the ability to grow new neurons. The problem with retirement
is that, too often, people don’t continue to actively engage their brains and
therefore don’t continue to grow those new neurons.” He adds, “I often run
into friends of mine who have sold their companies and now have millions in
cash, but aren’t finding retirement to be revitalizing. In this information age in
which we live, where we are defined by what we do, to find ourselves
suddenly with little to occupy our minds is simply not healthy. Learning
promotes longevity.”
    RMITs simply can’t imagine giving up what they love most, the wealth-
creation mechanism that has made them the richest person in town. They also
know that retirement is a relatively recent concept. It made sense in the
industrial age, when brawn was often favored over brains; physical prowess
over wisdom and experience. Retirement was not a part of the agricultural
society; members of the sixty-plus generation were counted on to provide
experience even when they could no longer physically plow a field.
Likewise today’s information era. Knowledge, experience, and wisdom don’t
dissipate as we approach our sixth, seventh, or eighth decades of life. For
generations that have been defined by what they do, in fact, to suddenly not
be engaged intellectually in a valuable endeavor seems antithetical to our
very being. For RMITs, retirement isn’t just an antiquated concept, but a false
expectation that society has placed upon older Americans, and often more
nightmare than dream come true.
    Certainly there comes a time in even the lives of RMITs when they can no
longer do certain things as well as they could in their more youthful years.
That doesn’t stop them from maximizing the skills they still have in new or
different ventures. Bill Kellogg of Milwaukee is not running the giant
department store Kohl’s today, but he is running his own venture capital
business, investing in promising new entrepreneurs with powerful new ideas.
He brings both his capital and his wisdom to these burgeoning enterprises.
Kellogg is creating additional wealth while helping others achieve their
goals. Bob Stone of Carrollton, Georgia, has turned the reins of his company,
Systems and Methods, over to his children to run on a day-to-day basis, but
that move allows him to spend more time building his real estate
development business while still keeping his chairman-of-the-board eye on
the family enterprise. He’s as busy as ever—just diversifying his wealth-
creation portfolio. Chicago’s Sam Zell made his name and fortune in real
estate, but he is now making his big moves in the world of legacy media (old
media, as many call it today). No doubt this “professional opportunist” is
growing new neurons as he learns a whole new industry and attempts to turn
around the fortunes of some of America’s most legendary newspapers,
owned by his Tribune Company.
    The move from intellectual engagement and cultural excitement to the
somnambulant lifestyle in the Sunbelt is not a choice RMITs make.
Retirement may have made sense when folks were worn out after a lifetime
of production-line labor, but today it simply does not pay, physically or
fiscally. Don’t retire, reinvent.
By this point in your journey, it is my hope that you have found your perfect
pitch or at least given serious thought to discovering your true calling. Maybe
you’ve written your personal declaration of independence and begun to think
of the best ways to be your own boss. If you’ve made it this far, you’ve
definitely gotten hooked on ambition or you had it well honed in the first
place. You’ve most likely given serious thought to how you will execute on
your wealth creation, and you’ve faced the fact that failure is nothing to be
feared and that great wealth can be created anywhere in America—indeed,
the world.
    I hope that you’ve determined to build your fortune with integrity the way
America’s RMITs have, that you’ve started to hone your personal selling
skills, and that you’ve begun to mastermind ways to tap into the minds and
motivation of the best and brightest who have proven they have what it takes
to be the richest man in town. I also hope that you’ve come to the same
conclusion I have: There is still a lot to be learned from America’s RMITs.
Much can be gleaned and valuable lessons can be gained from the ways in
which they live their very rich and full lives. Take these tips from them.
—William Rehnquist
Play Poker
    New York’s Carl Icahn built early friendships around the poker table
when he was working as a cabana boy at the local beach club. He says, “I
watched the wealthy, successful garment center guys play poker and I said, I
can do that, so I went home and read every book I could read on poker. One
Saturday evening, they said, ‘Okay, kid, you want to lose your money? Come
join us and you can lose what you made this week, we’ll teach you a lesson.’
” In what would become a common theme in his life, he realized he had the
upper hand: “I had read the books and I wasn’t drinking.” Icahn won over
$1,000 that night. His tuition at Princeton was $750 a year at that time. He
learned that Saturday evening at the beach club that “you have to work hard
to get really good at something.” He got good at poker, made some friends
along the way, and paid for his education to one of the most elite schools in
the country. Poker is the game mentioned almost as frequently by RMITs as
golf and even more than tennis.
    When I asked Fred DeLuca of Subway what lessons about success he had
taught his son, he replied, “My son would probably tell you I taught him how
to play online poker, but I would hope I also taught him to be self-sufficient.”
His son is definitely both self-sufficient and a good poker player, and that
pleases DeLuca. It’s not surprising, really, that poker is so prominent in the
lives of RMITs. It is a competitive game that requires intellect,
independence, the ability to read people, strategy, good math and memory
skills, and a genuine sense of social engagement. All are traits representative
of great wealth creators.
    Eighty-six percent of RMITs believe golf or tennis not only helped them
enjoy their success, but was in fact important to achieving it in the first place
because of the social and business access it gave them. Ninety percent of
RMITs believe that superior social skills trump superior intelligence every
time. (EQ equals SQ.) Furthermore, getting along is an indispensable skill in
business. “Being nice, being a good guy or gal is a start, but developing the
social skills that place you in the room with the big dogs gives you a definite
head start in the race to wealth creation,” says Red McCombs of San
Antonio, Texas. Ron Rice, the RMIT of Daytona Beach and founder of
Hawaiian Tropic, notes, “I love a great party—it has been one of the key
foundations of building my business. Being on the social stage builds your
social skills and therefore your business capital. Be a people lover, a people
watcher, a people pleaser. Having a sincere interest in your fellow human
beings quite simply makes you a better leader, a better manager, a better
surveyor of the culture.” Dan Duncan of Houston agrees. “Having a sincere
interest in other people makes you a better human being.” Curiosity is what
drove me to write this book—and if you’re reading it, that’s a good sign it
will take you places as well.
                                                                 —Oscar Wilde
    Optimists reign supreme. Ninety-three percent of the RMITs rated
optimism a full 10 (on a scale of 1 to 10) in terms of critical importance to
success. “Without strong optimism there is no success, but optimism must
always be tempered by reality,” says Columbia, South Carolina’s Joe Taylor.
Your view of life dictates the result. Belspring, Virginia’s RJ Kirk exhorts,
“Choose to be happy! I hear people all the time—we all do—whining about
their circumstances, waiting for something to happen to change their lives,
waiting for the government to improve their condition. I can tell you now that
will never happen, because that is not how happiness is acquired. Happiness
is not the by-product of circumstances; happiness is in your range of choices.
So choose to be happy.”
    Richard DeVos, the RMIT in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and the founder of
Amway, enthusiastically agrees: “An optimistic attitude is not a luxury; it’s a
necessity.” DeVos found time to write several books during his long and
successful career. In his book Believe! he cited optimism and persistence as
the two most important ingredients of success in life. As the maven of
multilevel marketing, he saw literally thousands of success stories—and not
once did he see someone succeed without an optimistic view of life and a
positive attitude about their abilities. Alex Hartzler—the thirty-something
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, RMIT, real estate developer, technology wizard,
and co-founder of Webclients, which he and his partners sold for $141
million in 2005—says, “Minding the subconscious mind is a definite key to
success. When the mind focuses positively, it’s easier to envision a truly
successful future.” Leighton Cubbage of Greenville, South Carolina, adds:
“Many people think having a positive attitude is not intellectual. I say it is the
ultimate intellectual thought process.”
Be a Victor—Never a Victim
—Goethe
    Creating great wealth isn’t just about the money for most RMITs, it’s
about the adventure of the voyage—adventure in businesses and adventure in
personal time as well. Bob Gillam of Anchorage, Alaska, says, “The best
books I have ever read were about Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn because they
taught me about adventure.” He likes to floatplane into the wilds of Alaska,
where he has fished every major stream. He navigates his way through
virtually all three million lakes in the remote regions and uses them as his
personal water runways. Gillam remembers riding his bicycle to the local
airport as a boy because a rare Boeing 707 was scheduled to land. Wow, he
thought, one day I want to fly one of those. “Today I’ve got a hangar full of
them.” An astounding 72 percent of RMITs have their own plane; 35 percent
can even fly them.
    Jonathan Nelson goes extreme heli-skiing, most recently on the virgin
snow of Greenland, where he says brave souls can ski right down to the
ocean because it snows at sea level there. Bob Jepson loves to shoot sporting
clays when he isn’t flying his L-39 fighter plane. He says, “Shooting sporting
clays requires real concentration, and it helps develop quick reflexes,
patience, and at times a healthy dose of humility. Shooting sporting clays is a
lot like running a business. You wait for each opportunity to present itself.
Then you lead the target: You anticipate where the clay is going to be, swing
through it, and then take your shot. You get one chance to put your shot pattern
and the target together. Accuracy and timing are important, and you have to
work for every point you score. It’s like business. It’s like life.”
—Warren Buffett
    Will Rogers once said that you never get a second chance to make a good
first impression. Appearance matters. A healthy self-image is a key aspect of
making a good impression, and it is a common trait of RMITs. Like Sir John
Gielgud, RMITs believe that the way you view yourself has a lot to do with
how others view you. Economists tell us that the taller you are, the greater
your odds of financial success (the average height of an RMIT is six foot
one). There is also a strong correlation between beauty and bucks. The better
looking you are (the lucky few), the better your chance of success, and the
better groomed you are—again, the better your chance for economic
independence. To the extent that they are under your control, these traits show
attention to detail and personal pride.
    Ron Rice of Daytona Beach, Florida, admits, “Maybe it’s because one of
Hawaiian Tropic’s major promotions is the Miss Hawaiian Tropic beauty
contest, and maybe I am more interested in appearance than most, but when
everything else is even, if I have the choice of an attractive employee over an
unkempt one, I’ll always choose the attractive one. Taking care of yourself
shows self-respect, and who doesn’t want that kind of employee or business
associate?” Alex Hartzler of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, says modestly,
“Thank God appearance wasn’t a condition for success in my case. But I do
believe that the good-looking people in life have an easier, perhaps surer
shot at the top rungs of the success ladder. As such, I guess I will always be
like Avis and will just have to try harder.” Nevertheless, Phil Ruffin of
Wichita (and now Las Vegas as well) believes good looks don’t matter to a
real entrepreneur or wealth creator. He says, “Some of us rich guys are the
ugliest things you have ever seen.”
                                                            —Joseph Addison
    Among RMITs, 86 percent are convinced that a happy marriage is one of
the keys to success—both business success and success in life. In fact, 71
percent are still married to their first spouse, and only ten of the hundred
RMITs have experienced divorce. Dr. Thomas Frist, the co-founder of HCA
in Nashville, believes your spouse should be your partner for life, so choose
well. He says, “If my forty-three-year marriage had not worked, it would be
the most devastating failure I could imagine.” In a powerful display of putting
his money where his belief is, he bestowed 50 percent of his stock in HCA
on his wife at the start-up of the company.
    Bill Sanders of El Paso says, “I’m still married to my first wife of thirty-
plus happy years who is my true partner in life. I can’t imagine having the
success I have had without her.” Bharat Desai, the Fisher Island, Florida,
RMIT, is a billionaire today at least in part because his wife, Neerja Sethi,
started Syntel with him when they were in graduate school at the University
of Michigan. Desai gives credit where credit is due: “My wife, Neerja, is the
smart one of us. She’s my business partner, plus she raised the children.”
Bernie Marcus of Home Depot fame, the richest man in Atlanta, echoes that
sentiment. “I have been married to my second wife for over thirty years and
Billi is my true partner, but before we got married, I made sure she knew
what the life of a retailer was like. She was well aware I would be traveling
constantly. She accepted the retailer’s wife’s life and has been my greatest
support.” He adds, “Not once did Billi nag me. In fact, she spoke at Home
Depot employee meetings about the job of the supportive spouse. The Home
Depot employees were so impressed because she and I shared exactly the
same values.”
    Jim Harrison of Tuscaloosa gives his wife total credit, as do so many
RMITs, for the bulk of raising the children and providing an environment
where he could achieve without feeling guilty for it. He says, “Peggy was
and is the emotional and spiritual support that allowed me to do what I do
best, which is build things.” Omaha’s Joe Ricketts notes, “If I had been
married to anybody else, I would have been divorced three or four times. My
wife gets me. I have devoted my life to the two things that make me happy:
my family and my work. Marlene always understood the sacrifice that
success required and never once became upset or irritated by it. One time, I
had gotten myself in a jam and I had to ask her to go to work, even though we
had four kids at home. She never once complained. She just did it.” Iowa’s
chemical king, Dennis Albaugh, recalls that when he applied for his first
$10,000 SBA (Small Business Association) loan, his wife had to agree to
second-mortgage their house. The local bankers actually came to their home
and explained to Susan that the bank would have to take their house if
Albaugh’s business went bust. She promptly co-signed the note, and many
thereafter. He says, “Susan has been my success partner in every way, all
along the way.”
    Jim Oelschlager’s wife, Vanita, epitomizes the supportive spouse. Given
Jim’s physical limitations due to his MS, she is constantly by his side. She
works alongside him at his investment company, Oak Associates; when he
travels, she serves as his legs. She has even found time to write five books
that are at least in part about Jim. Air Mask, a book of poems, deals
poignantly and honestly about the trials, frustrations, and joys of being
constantly in the caretaker role. Despite—or perhaps even because of—all
the difficulties each has endured, their partnership remains strong. This is
exactly what Oelschlager means when he utters one of his favorite sayings,
“Get a good partner and have a good partnership.”
    Fourteen percent of RMITs, however, say that it’s better to put off
relationships and family until you have truly made it. Joe Taylor, of
Columbia, South Carolina, maintains that “when building a business with a
goal of creating sizable wealth, relationships will undoubtedly suffer.”
Taylor, who didn’t marry until he was thirty-five, advises young
entrepreneurs to wait until they’re successful. Another prominent RMIT who
shares that belief is hotel developer Harris Rosen, the richest man in
Orlando, Florida, who didn’t marry until he was fifty.
Lifestyle Tip #7: Sex: What’s Good in the Bedroom Is Great in the
Boardroom
   Wealth is the ultimate aphrodisiac.
—Anonymous RMIT
—Leroy Landhuis
    Albert Einstein posited: “There are only two ways to live your life. One
is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as if everything is.” Faith
seems to be a prerequisite for living a life populated with miracles. The
majority of RMITs cite faith as having played a role in their success. Three
give all the credit to God. Leroy Landhuis of Colorado Springs, David Green
of Oklahoma City, and Buzz Oates of Sacramento all believe their success is
the grand plan of their God. Oates remarked humbly and honestly, “The Lord
has always been faithful to me. I haven’t always been faithful to him.” Oates
has been faithful to Joel Osteen’s ministry both spiritually and financially. He
takes his private jet to Lakewood Church in Houston, Texas (the largest
nondenominational church in the country, with thirty thousand members), to
hear the gospel from the Osteen family, whom he considers friends.
    Oates has also recently given $3 million to Mercy Ministries (the
international Christian charity founded by Nancy Alcorn that helps young
troubled women) to build a center in Sacramento. He says, “I realize the
Lord was instrumental in bringing me the profits that I have now, and I want
to use those profits for him to change the world.”
    So does Leroy Landhuis of Colorado Springs. Though fiercely private
about his good deeds, he does admit that he has and is building orphanages,
schools, churches, and hospitals to do God’s work all over the world,
especially in Africa. He says, “That’s what I do with my money. When I was
in my twenties, men took time to meet with and introduce me to the concept
that God understood capitalism. If you read Mark and Matthew, God
promises a hundredfold return for anything we invest in him. Being a guy like
me who is a capitalist, that means 10,000 percent times forever, so why
would I do anything else?” He admits that even though he has a deep and
abiding belief in God and a determined desire to fulfill God’s grand plan for
him, “That is not where I have spent all my time, so I am dumber than you
might think. If you had known this you probably wouldn’t have called me to
be a part of your book.” He wants to encourage other men to pursue a
relationship with the God who created them and loved them: “We’re all
going to die and you want to make sure you’ve invested your life wisely.”
Landhuis isn’t as saintly as he sounds. He candidly offers, “I have not been a
success in my personal life the way I would have liked to be. My marriage
wasn’t successful and at times, I have been much too occupied with business.
Up until recently, I haven’t opened up emotionally.” He adds, “In the
Midwest where I grew up, you don’t have any philosophical or emotional
discussions about anything.” The Colorado capitalist with a deep love for
God has reconciled the God-and-money conundrum that plagues so many. He
says, “Growing up in a very structured home with no indoor plumbing, did I
want to be a millionaire? Yes I did. But now I am using my money for God’s
work.”
    Bob Stiller of Burlington, Vermont, has been faithful to his spirituality,
which he says has permeated every aspect of his life. “My spiritual intention
brings another level of consciousness and creativity to all that I do.” He
believes that “what you think about, you bring about.” He has thought about
building a great company, and he has. He has thought about having the finer
amenities of life, and he has; and he has thought about the personal growth of
the employees who have helped him achieve his success. He says, “My
greatest joy is seeing my employees grow personally and seeing them be able
to make a difference in the world. We have proved at Green Mountain that
you can value spirituality, save the world, and maximize profits
simultaneously.”
    David Green of Oklahoma City agrees. Even though he sits atop a thriving
retail empire and a multibillion-dollar fortune, he remembers a time in the
mid-1980s when God taught him a lesson. Green had gotten caught up in the
wave of the 1980s abundance. Oil was enjoying record highs, and folks were
living large in Oklahoma and Texas. In his book More than a Hobby, Green
says it was a time when Mercedes and Rolls-Royce dealers were selling
every car they could get their hands on and Rolex watches were flying out the
doors of jewelry stores. Consequently, Green started to sell more upscale
things like expensive signed and numbered artwork. “We were coasting on a
false sense of security,” he says. What goes up must come down, and
suddenly the high-rolling economy was rolling the wrong way for Green’s
merchandising. His business suffered so much that he suddenly couldn’t pay
his stores’ utility bills. In one memorable incident, Oklahoma Gas and
Electric showed up at one of Green’s stores demanding a $3,600 payment—
or else the lights would be shut off.
    The store manager begged for one more day, expecting that he could pay
the bill with the sales proceeds from that day if they were able to stay open.
Green remembers crawling under his desk so he could pray to God without
distraction or notice. He then called his family together to say that it looked
as though the business was going belly-up. Green recalls his son saying to
him, “Our faith is not in you, Dad; it’s in God.” He remembers, “I learned
that I had to become small so God could become big.”
    With massive downsizing, cost-cutting, and the help of their God, Green
steered Hobby Lobby back to profitability. Being small so God could be big
is a lesson he has never forgotten. “Up until this time,” he says, “I had always
given God credit for our success, but I’m afraid it was mostly lip service. I
saw where I could truly wind up without God’s help. I also learned that
crisis prayer is okay, but daily prayer is better.”
Lifestyle Tip #9: Be an Eternal Student
   Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that
   you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines.
   Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails.
   Explore. Dream. Discover.
—Mark Twain
    As you have witnessed countless times through this book, RMITs have an
insatiable curiosity. They believe like Samuel Johnson that “curiosity is one
of the most permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous intellect.”
They are the ultimate lifelong learners. They believe, as Henry Ford did, that
“anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who
keeps learning stays young. The greatest thing in life is to keep your mind
young.” Continual learning is not compulsory, but then again neither is
survival. “The world is changing faster than it ever has,” says Randal J.
Kirk, the biotech billionaire who calls Belspring, Virginia, home. Kirk
believes that to be successful over the course of our lives, we must be
prepared to change careers several times, and that requires being eternal
students. He says, “We’re already at a point where we’re seeing entire
industries come and go in four to six years, so a young person can reasonably
expect six to ten careers.” Unless of course, you choose not to be an eternal
student. In this era of constant change, you must be ready to adapt.
    According to Hollis, New Hampshire, publishing magnate Pat McGovern,
who has funded the McGovern Brain Institute for Brain Research at MIT,
researchers have proven that by actively learning new things, visiting new
places, and having new experiences, you are, in effect, actually growing new
brain cells and therefore increasing your mental depth and dexterity.
McGovern says, “That process of neurogenesis increases your immune
system and creates chemical messages sent to the rest of the body that
improve your health and lower your anxiety. Learning promotes longevity.”
That’s a powerful reason to stay in school for life.
    Jim Oelschlager calls being an eternal student collateral learning and
notes how often you may find yourself learning things you didn’t necessarily
set out to learn. To that end, travel is an incomparable experience. He says:
“Sometimes you need another view of the world, a more exhilarating
environment, in order to find your greatest inspiration.”
    That was certainly the case for Christel DeHaan. The German immigrant
and former English nanny always had the desire to understand the larger
world. She says, “I went to England to perfect my English and to begin my
journey of understanding a globalized world. I have always loved the
concept of being a student of the world.” It’s no surprise, then, that she would
later co-found a business (Resort Condominiums International) capitalizing
on the concept of globalization long before globalization became a business
page buzzword. Jon Huntsman made it a family tradition to give all fifty-six
(yes, 56) grandchildren a collateral learning trip to San Francisco when each
turns ten years old: “It’s a rite of passage to ride the cable cars, see the
Cannery, Alcatraz, and all that San Francisco offers.”
    Omaha’s greatest eternal student, Joe Ricketts, says, “It took me ten years
to graduate from college because I had to work my way through school, but I
learned two things well… the power of compounded interest, and the power
of continual education.” He goes on: “I’m still learning every day. I learn
through travel, I learn from investing in new, young companies, and I’m
learning from starting a new technology business myself. I can’t imagine life
without learning.” The Internet made Ricketts a billionaire. He says, “It also
made me smarter, no doubt, because of the easy access to knowledge about
anything and everything that is of interest—and I have a lot of interests.” Phil
Knight, the richest man in Portland, Oregon, and the founder of Nike,
believes so strongly in being a student for life that he has gone back to his
alma mater, Stanford University, where he’s taking writing classes.
—Winston Churchill
   RMITs have amassed a collective fortune of over $355 billion and given
away almost half of it. The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation directs more
than $37.3 billion principally toward what Bill Gates has termed the “Big
Three” diseases: malaria, tuberculosis, and HIV/AIDS. Another $40 billion
or so is also coming from Warren Buffett, which will more than double the
size of what is already the largest foundation in the world. Today Gates is
devoting the majority of his time to making a difference through his and
Melinda’s foundation; thus he’s stepped down from the day-to-day
management of Microsoft. He has said, “I actually thought that it would be a
little confusing during the same period of your life to be in one meeting when
you’re trying to make money, and then go to another meeting where you’re
giving it away.”
     What do most RMITs plan to do with their riches? Philanthropy is a
passion for most. Giving back to the world in myriad ways is yet another job
they have taken on. It’s their way of saying thank you to the world that has
given them so much.
     Most RMITs believe they are all simply caretakers for their wealth for the
period of their lifetime—that their money is never truly owned by them.
Their fortune is simply in their custody while they are here on earth. You
must possess it, however—albeit temporarily—to give it away. Leroy
Landhuis says, “The money, just like Solomon said, will be left to somebody
else or to some other thing and I won’t matter. We can’t take it with us, but
we can send it ahead. That’s one of the greatest discoveries of study that I’ve
ever had.”
     He is sending his money ahead, especially to Africa, while he’s around to
see the fruits of his hard work positively affect others less fortunate. He says,
“If you want to give your money away when you’re dead, that’s fine, but that
doesn’t mean anything to God because he’s got enough money. If you’ll give
it away while you’re living, he gives us credit for that forever. If you don’t
believe in him, you won’t do it, though, because you won’t do what you can’t
see or believe. It’s too illogical for your human mind to grasp. You won’t
give away millions of dollars to change the lives of others unless you have
real faith in God.” Landhuis does believe. He believes in God and he
believes that his money is nothing more than a tool to do God’s work. He
says proudly, “God is a capitalist.”
     Bob Jepson of Savannah says that in his early years, he thought that if he
were to be remembered for anything, it would be for resuscitating a bunch of
tired old companies—and in so doing making a small scratch on the
landscape of American business. Now, he says, “As I have gotten older and
perhaps wiser, I think those of us who are remembered, if we are
remembered, will be remembered for what we have done for others, not by
what success we had in doing for ourselves.” A particularly poignant
experience occurred early in his career when he was working in Chicago and
living in the suburb of Barrington, Illinois. One evening his wife did not pick
him up at the train station, as was normally her custom. He was forced to
walk the three miles home. He walked right through the town cemetery, and
since it was a nice day, he took a breather and sat on a bench. A scruffy
gentleman came and sat down beside him and said, “You know, life is a
hyphen.” Jepson just sort of shrugged his youthful shoulders and said,
“Yeah.” Then he looked at the tombstones and he realized what his new
friend was saying as he saw that all the tombstones had one thing in common:
a date—a hyphen—and then another date. Then the disheveled, very wise
man got up and said, “Make the most of it young man. Life is a hyphen.”
    Jepson says, “We know when our starting date is, but we don’t know what
the ending date is, and the trick is to extend that hyphen as long as we can. If
you’re really clever, you can extend it beyond the end date.” Jepson will
certainly be long remembered and respected for many contributions, but the
Jepson School of Leadership at the University of Richmond ensures his
legacy. He says, “You try to leave something behind that will make the world
a better place and in some way help others along their paths, and hopefully
they will do the same.” RMITs pay it forward.
    Salt Lake City, Utah’s Jon Huntsman says, “Selfless giving unto others
represents one’s true wealth.” This quote is inscribed proudly on the
Huntsman Cancer Institute in Salt Lake City. Huntsman has certainly been
selfless in his giving. He has already bestowed three-quarters of a billion
dollars on the Huntsman Institute, which is based at the University of Utah.
Upon completion of the sale of his company, which is expected to garner
more than $10 billion, he will be even more selfless. Huntsman is committed;
he has survived cancer three times.
    Dayton’s Clay Mathile earmarked more than $100 million to give to his
employees when he sold Iams to Procter and Gamble; he endowed a
community fund for the Dayton area with another $100 million. The sale of
his company benefited everyone associated with it—his family, his
employees, and his community. That’s what you call the ultimate win–win.
Jorge Pérez says, “What I’m concerned about right now is not my success,
but rather my legacy.”
Inheritance Is Inherently Bad
    What might surprise you is that the majority of RMITs don’t plan to leave
most of their money to their kids and grandkids when they are called to a
higher position. David Green says, “I don’t want any of my family to get
anything they didn’t earn. I look at Hobby Lobby as a tree in nature—a tree
that no one really owns, but because we have tended the tree, we get the
fruits for caring for it. I have gotten the fruits of what I have earned; whoever
follows me should only get the fruits of what they earn.” Warren Buffett still
believes today, as he did in 1986 when he first said it, that “a very rich
person should leave his kids enough to do anything, but not enough to do
nothing.”
    There are many ways to give back to the universe. Bill Kellogg, the main
man of Milwaukee and the former CEO of Kohl’s, now enjoys investing in
people and businesses that interest him—that is one way he feels he can give
back to society. He, like most RMITs, has failed miserably at retirement, but
that’s a failure he can live with. After a lifetime of working twelve-hour
days, seven days a week, rest is not high on Kellogg’s or any RMIT’s priority
list. RMITs don’t retire; they refocus, they regenerate, and they never stop
questing for the next big thing and the best way in which to make a personal
difference.
    During the building of his Harco pharmacy fortune, Jim Harrison of
Tuscaloosa was famous for saying, “When we get some money, we’re going
to do some good.” When he sold Harco to Rite Aid, he got some money all
right. Now he is doing some major good through the Harrison Family
Foundation. “Running the foundation and giving away money is the greatest
joy of my life,” he says. One of the greatest joys of Jim Click’s life (other
than selling another car or truck) is helping people with disabilities. He
believes in making a difference while you’re around to see that difference
being made. He currently employs more than seventy people with
disabilities. Christel DeHaan of Indianapolis is using the same skills that
helped her build RCI into an $825 million payday to build and run Christel
House International. Her hope is to break the cycle of poverty with learning
centers in Mexico, Venezuela, India, South Africa, and the United States.
    Bob Stiller’s Green Mountain Coffee has been successful in more than
just the financial sense. His company has found ways to be socially
responsible. It gives 5 percent of pretax profits each year to various social
and environmental initiatives; it pays employees for one hour of volunteer
work a week; it even offers meditation training. It is not surprising, then, that
Green Mountain has been named one of the most socially responsible
companies in America by Business Ethics magazine. Stiller has proved that
you can do well (make loads of money) and do good simultaneously. He has
imbued his employees with his same sense of social responsibility. He
knows how to give and why. RMITs know that from whom much is given,
much is expected.
PERSONAL PROFILES OF THE RICHEST MEN IN
                TOWN
There were times as I was writing this book when I felt like I was living in
solitary confinement. I wasn’t the smartest person in the room, either—but I
was the only person in the room—and there were times when I didn’t
particularly like that guy.
     I want to thank all of the RMITs and RWITs for their time and insight into
this project. They truly are generous in the richest meaning of the term. They
were generous with their time certainly, but more important generous with
their stories, their insights, their personal success formulas, and even their
failures. If it sounds as though I really like these people, it should. As hard as
I tried to be a totally dispassionate journalistic observer of these big bucks
creators, I found that a very difficult, near impossible task. Yes, I admire
what they have accomplished, I respect the way in which they have grown
their wealth, and I appreciate their generosity of spirit. Some of these super-
successes were initially disinclined to be interviewed because of their
laudable humility. However, when they understood that they could make a
real difference in the lives of so many just by sharing their unique and very
personal experiences, most accepted my invitation with pleasure. We are all
better for their generous decisions.
     Fortunately for me, just as I was about to be sick of myself, there was
always someone sliding sustenance under the door and offering me a much-
needed helping hand and more than a word or two of encouragement. To
those that I lovingly refer to as team RMIT, I offer my appreciation and
eternal gratitude. First, I thank the greatest support staff in the world—my
wife, Connie, and our three sons, Cole, Chance, and Charles—for their
unwavering love and belief in me. Thanks to Jane Berentson and John Koten,
my colleagues at Worth magazine, who came to the rescue when I threw out
the challenge to come up with a new and different way to view the wealthy in
America for our tenth-anniversary issue. That special anniversary issue that
we titled The Richest Person in Town was Jane’s idea. It was the inspiration
for my desire to dig deeper into the lives of America’s greatest self-made
success stories to determine what really makes them tick, and what lessons
we could all learn from them. Alison Parks was my stalwart partner during
the exciting and, at times, challenging Worth expedition—and I couldn’t have
asked for a smarter or more competent collaborator or better friend with
whom to enjoy the ride. Patrick Sheehan edited my words at Worth, always
making them more lyrical and my observations more trenchant; he was, of
course, the first person I asked to read my manuscript. His insights and
suggestions were, as usual, on the money. Christian Kunkel, my overqualified
and underpaid RMIT intern, did so much of the initial spadework to find the
most successful self-made person in each town that I am sure his hands are
still throbbing from the digging. Susan Weaver, my producer, could run a
Fortune 500 logistics company blindfolded. She arranged dozens of
interviews, arm-wrestled too many RMIT assistants to count, and always
kept the interview process running like a Japanese train. My agents Dan
Ambrosio and David Vigliano shepherded me and the Richest Man in Town
idea into the right hands at Grand Central Publishing with great skill. My
attorney, Marc Chamlin, kept everyone on their toes and offered
immeasurable insight and encouragement. I owe special thanks to my editor,
Rick Wolff, for his belief in this project, his constant encouragement, and his
gentle hand on my manuscript. I’m immensely grateful to all.