Life-Lesson Learned by an 8-Year-Old, at the Pine Wood Derby

The excitement in the room was palpable. After all, it was an 8-year-old boy’s 1^st entry, as a Cub Scout, into the regional area prestigious “Pine Wood Derby”. The “Super Bowl”, World Series, and Olympic Gold Medal” combined, paled in comparison to the coveted 1^st Place Winner of the “Pine Wood Derby” Race.

Hundreds of Cub Scouts, from dozens of area Scouting Pacts were given a block of Pine wood and a set of instructions and rules & regulations. Indy 500 Race Teams were burdened with less demands, than those placed on the block of Pine wood, and the shoulders of an 8-year-old boy. However, the Cub Scout had his father to lean on, if needed.

Some fathers interpreted their guidance to mean complete usurpation of race car design and production. Their son’s only function was to carry their car entry in a brown paper bag to the grade school gym on race day. There were designs sleeker than a Ferrari, paint finishes more pristine than a Rolls Royce, and craftsmanship requiring the most advanced CNC machine. (Apparently, Integrity of the Child’s Involvement was NOT a race requirement.)

My friend’s son cut his block of Pine wood down to size with a saw, under his father’s concerned eye. The boy than carefully and slowly shaved and shaped the remaining wood with a sharp hand-held wood chisel until his car resembled what he had hoped. The final rounding and finishing touches were accomplished by hours of sanding. That entire process intuitively followed Michelangelo’s succinct comment on how produced his epic masterpiece sculpture of “David”: “I simply removed everything that wasn’t “David”.

My friend’s son then painted some car sections black, and the remaining sections red – his favorite colors. The finished product was weighed on the kitchen’s spring scale. The car met all size & weight requirements. Dreams of hoisting the coveted 1^st Place Race Trophy seemed inevitable.

While standing in line at the grade school gym, my friend and his son caught glimpses of the other “Pine Wood Derby” race cars. My friend’s son certainly wasn’t going to win “The Best in Show Style Award”. However, that was a pitiful consolation prize for the race losers. The ONLY PRIZE that counted was the 1st Place Trophy for the FASTEST CAR.

When father & son reached the “Official Entry Table”, his son handed his car to be measured and weighed. It met the length & width measurement standard. HORRORS. His Car Was Over The Weight Limit. Apparently, the kitchen spring-scale lacked the precision of the official race digital scale. Tears of disbelief and dejection streamed down the boy’s cheeks.

Fortunately, a neighbor, next in line, saw the problem and offered a solution. He pulled my friend and his son aside, and said that he had a small saw in his tool box:

• He would simply cut off a piece of wood behind the rear wheels, and the car should qualify. It didn’t.
• He cut off a block of wood before the front tires. Still too heavy.
• Finally, the neighbor pulled out a cordless drill, and began drilling holes in the bottom of the car. It qualified.

But, the 8-year-old boy was devastated.

It would have been better to have gone home with a disqualified car, than to be subjected to the cruel taunts and derisive laughter of his peers. The boy refused to carry his car to the starting line, for the first qualifying race. His father handed the car to the official starter. The boy didn’t even watch, but turned his head when he heard that his car won.

He proudly presented his car to the official starter as his car won one qualifying race after another. Only the final 6 fastest cars remained in the race. The race track was highly lacquered, tilted to the precise angle, with an electronic starting gate, and a photo-optic finish-line. Raised wooden lane barriers separated cars from crashing into one another.

The fastest car should be the most aero-dynamic, with the best lubricated axles, traveling in the straightest line. Except, that day, a butchered block of Pine wood, that sounded like a run-a-way calliope, BEAT THEM ALL. The original jeers turned to cheers, as my friend’s son hoisted the 1^st Place Pine Wood Derby Trophy over his head, as he had dreamed.

The Above YouTube Music Video Captures the Essence of the Blog Post Message: Never Give Up.

Outside, my friend asked his son, “What lesson did you learn?” (He didn’t expect to hear Kipling’s poetic advice, “To treat Triumph and Disaster just the same.”) He did expect hear some version of, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, and try, again.” Or, Winston Churchill’s entire “Commencement Speech” at a prestigious  Private Boarding School: “Never, Never, Never, Never, Never Give Up“.

Instead, his 8-year-old son said, “I learned that something really ugly, could go really fast.”

Oh well. It’s not  a philosophical insight, or poetic inspiration, But his joy was real, and…Priceless.

“Sacramentals” in the Home

In my friend’s home, the dining room table is definitely a “Sacramental”. Over four decades of birthday parties, anniversaries, graduations, athletic victories, Thanksgiving, and Christmas dinners were celebrated around that magnificent mahogany table. Countless laughs and tears were shared along with the food and drink.

The collective nicks and scars from toppled wine glasses and gravy drippings by exuberant celebrants are testimony of good times, past. My friend never considered the restorative refinishing to the table’s original pristine shine. Those time-worn blemishes are badges of honor never to be erased by the specious patina of new glossy stains and varnish. While bruised & beaten, that joyous & glorious dining table serves as a family memorial to all that was true and good throughout the years.

Along with this sacred family table, is the valued tradition of “Customizing a Blessing” in honor of a specific occasion. For example, if the family were celebrating a wedding anniversary, the last line of the “Blessing” would be changed accordingly:

“May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm on your face, and the rain fall soft on your fields.
And for the rest of your wedded life, May God hold you in the palm of His hand.”

Other adaptations are:

• “And for the rest of your new productive career…
• “And for your successful surgery & speedy recovery…”
• And for your successful graduation from High School…from College…etc.
• And for your soccer championship…basketball championship…tennis… golf, etc.
• “And for repair-free enjoyment in your new home…”

And so on, and so on…

These adaptive “Blessings” are an integral part of family traditions celebrated around the dining table. The term “Sacramental” elevates family celebrations to the realm of something “Holy”. They are clearly celebrations of love. They are functional expressions of Mother Theresa’s sage advice,  “If you want world peace, go home and love your family.”  Be a “Bridge Over Troubled Waters”.

So, that dining table supported more than dishes and serving platters & bowls. That dining table supported his family’s “Loving Spirit”, collectively and individually. It provided strength “To stand on mountains. It was a safe harbor during stormy seas.” It encouraged All: “To be all that one could be.”

All family and guests shared the generous servings of those supportive delicacies, as they were freely passed around that magnificent mahogany table. In the stillness of the night, the table emitted no groaning creaks. Only the echoes of lingering laughter and visions of hugs and kisses, were heard & seen.

The above music video expresses exactly what Mother Theresa had in mind:

If you want World Peace, Go Home and Love Your family.”

 

Guidance from the Greatest Generation

My Friend’s Father-in-Law was a member of the “Greatest Generation. He served as a navigator on a bomber plane in WWII. After the war, he graduated from Northwestern University, and worked his way up from a salesman to Executive Vice president and Treasurer of the town’s 3rd largest employer. He married and helped his wife raise three children who all graduated from college.

One of his proudest moments was in 1971, announcing his daughter’s engagement at the company’s Christmas party. His darkest hour happened only ten days later. A stranger walked into his office and asked, “Are you Ed?” “Yes”, he replied. The stranger then said, “You’re Fired.” Ed was stunned. While Ed was still reeling in disbelief, the stranger said, “I we won’t need to have a guard watch you pack up your things. Just leave before noon”, then he turned, and left.

That whole episode seemed surreal. Dazed, Ed sat in his chair, wondering, “What just happened?” He collected himself and called his closest friend in the company. Before Ed said anything, his friend said that he was fired and given until noon to get out. Those two friends called other company executives and Division Managers, and learned that a version of that same story happened to all of them as well.

The recent company buy-out (caused by the death of the company’s founder) was partially being financed by the funded pension accounts of long-term executives and Division Managers. Those funds totaled over five million dollars. The much larger purchasing company also had sufficient managers to replace the fired employees, at lower salaries. (Then, pension benefits didn’t vest until after 30 years of service. (Congress changed the vesting period to 5 years, because of this Draconian acquisition abuse.) Too late to save Ed.

So, Ed lost $400,000 dollars of his pension funds, an additional $500,000 in his company Whole Life Insurance Policy, and his annual salary of $75,000. (Adjusted in today’s dollars, Ed’s loss would be 5 times those amounts.) Ed lost his entire financial life, in a blink of an eye.

The joy of his daughter’s wedding evaporated into the burden of overwhelming expense. Yet, Ed straightened his shoulders, stiffened is lip, and treated “Disaster” with the same grace and elan as he treated “Triumph”. (Kipling would have been proud.)

Ed found a well-paying job that provided a wonderful wedding, allowed his 2 sons to get their college degrees, and allowed his wife to stay in her home. A remarkable recovery from circumstances that would have buckled the knees of the strongest man. (Men had jumped off buildings after losing far less.)

But even Ed’s resolve couldn’t navigate around the inevitable outcome of his doctor’s diagnosis: “Ed, you need heart surgery, and aggressive treatment for the large cancerous tumor found on top of your heart.” Yet, Ed’s reaction to that devastating medical news and painful treatments was the same as dealing with the flak exploding all around his plane during WWII, the egregious theft of his earned retirement funds, and career challenges since bring fired.

It’s been decades since Ed’s passing, but his legacy of courage and grace under pressure served as a font of wisdom and guidance for my friend, when he met the inevitable “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.” Ed now rests in the palm of God’s hand, and his spirit lives in the hearts of the lives that he touched.

Ed’s life personifies the “Guidance of the Greatest Generation”:

The Above YouTube Music Video Captures the Essence of the “Greatest Generation”