I found myself in an unfortunate place this past week, on an early morning flight from Nashville to Seattle in order to get to the hospital to see my father who was unexpectedly fighting for his life. Dad put up a brave fight but died peacefully on Friday afternoon. M. Wayne Blair of Bainbridge Island, Washington was 79. My mom, his partner of nearly 56 years, my sister, my brother, and I were fortunate to be with him in his final days. While my father’s passing was unexpected and we are very sad, I take great comfort in knowing he lived a full life, left a huge legacy through his work and his family, and was ready to go. As this is a leadership blog, I thought I’d share a few of the lessons I learned from him about business and life.
1. Be like Atticus. My father was an attorney and often arrived at our various sporting events right from work in a suit and tie. With wire-rimmed glasses and a hat, my brother’s good friend started calling him “Atticus” after Atticus Finch of To Kill a Mockingbird. To me, he fit the part in far more ways than just his outward appearance. My father’s steady voice, kind and steadfast manner hid a rock-solid integrity and fierce determination to treat everyone fairly and with respect.
The lesson: We could all do better trying to live our lives more like Atticus Finch— kind and calm with a fierce determination to do the right thing.
2. Change takes hard work. My father worked incredibly hard his whole life. His professional passion was making sure the law worked for everyone. He believed justice delayed is justice denied and access to justice (courts and counsel) was critical. That work led him to be more and more involved in various bar associations and court task forces to improve access to justice.
I remember when he was elected President-Elect of the Washington State Bar. He and my mom sat us children down to explain what had happened. Far from celebrating, they explained that the next two years would basically suck. Not only would my dad be working hard, traveling a lot and thus gone more, but because the work was unpaid, we would need to tighten the belt buckle on spending. During his year as President (the first year is President-Elect/VP), Wayne billed over 3100 hours, only 1100 of which were paid (1800 is 40 hours a week with holidays and vacations). His hard work paid off. He was instrumental in improving funding for Washington’s courts, legal aid to the poor, and shaping a lot of Washington’s arbitration and mediation statutes. Those changes have benefited many and will far outlive him.
The lesson: Making a dent in the universe — as Steve Jobs would call it — takes a lot of hours, many of which are unpaid.
3. Find the right partner. Professional success is a team sport. My parents set a great example of what a great team looks like. While my father technically earned more money, my parent’s marriage was a team of equals. My mother certainly sacrificed and supported my father’s career but my father supported my mom – – both her paid career and significant volunteer work which often took place at night and on weekends. We always had a chore chart, but at some point when my mom took on a new job, my Dad announced that the divisions of labor around the house would change. My mom would continue to do the laundry (because screw-ups could be costly), but the rest of us would be responsible for house cleaning in addition to our standard chores. When your high-powered father is on his knees scrubbing toilets, you complain a lot less when it’s your turn.
The Lesson: Real men support their partners at work…and scrub toilets.
4. Be there for the right moments. We lived on an island so my father commuted to work via a 35-minute ferryboat ride. I spent countless nights lying in bed listening for my father’s footsteps to come down the hall to kiss me goodnight, as he often got home after my bedtime. He would be up and gone well before I woke the next morning. There were many small things he missed because of his job and where we lived, but he made damn sure he was there for the big stuff. I can’t think of any major events he missed and — more importantly — when he was there, he was fully present and focused on us.
The Lesson: You don’t have to make every event or be there for every moment of your kid’s lives, but if you’re there and fully present for the big ones, they’ll know it.
5. Help people solve their problems. As I began my legal career, I remember my dad explaining to me, “You begin your legal career working for partners. You do the work because they ask you to. You don’t know the context or the larger issues. You react. But at some point, you will make a transition. You will get to know your clients and that changes everything. You will no longer work hard because someone tells you to but because your clients need your help.”
The lesson: Time flies when you start working to help people solve their problems.
6. Focus on next five years. Early in my career, as I freaked out over finding something that I would love for the next 40 years, he gave me some great advice. He said, “Focus on what you want to do for the next five years. Life has too many changes to worry much beyond that.” The advice took the pressure off my choices and proved to be accurate, as my career has had major changes about every five years.
The Lesson: Focus on the next five years. Life changes too fast to worry much beyond that.
7. Find your space. While my father’s ferryboat commute meant living much of life around the ferry schedule, my mother credits it with “saving” him. Walking on and off the boat and to and from his office not only provided him with about two miles of walking a day and the 35-minute ferry ride gave him time over an hour of quiet time — to drink a cup of coffee and read the paper in the morning, or sip a beer, chat with friends or take a quick nap on the way home. It meant that he arrived home relaxed and more ready for the mayhem of three busy kids.
The lesson: No matter how crazy your life is, you need to build in time for both some form of exercise and personal time.
8. Don’t wait. My dad never expressed any regret, but I know he was disappointed about one piece. My mom and dad’s plan was to retire and travel for a few years. Unfortunately, he ran into some health issues right about the time he was set to retire, which made travel much more difficult. In the end, they didn’t get a chance to see all they wanted to see.
The lesson: While delayed gratification is a key piece of life’s success puzzle, don’t forget to get out there while your health still allows it.
9. Love is a verb. There is an old Swedish joke about the Swedish man who so loved his wife for so many years that one day…he told her. Swedes aren’t known for their verbal affection and my dad was no different. I can count the times he told me he loved me on one hand, but I knew it with every fiber of my body, because he actions screamed it so loudly — by his attentiveness, by him listening, by him showing up, by him spending the time, and the tears in his eyes or trembling in his lip when he hugged me good-bye. He loved my mother with a passion. He loved his work, his law partners and his profession. He didn’t say “love” much but he showed it through 79 years of action.
The lesson: Words matter, but deeds will always matter more.
I love you, Dad. You will be missed by many.
Onward!
Jeff
