The Most Important Person in the Room

My wife’s grandfather, Frank DeHaven, passed away at 94 years of age earlier this year, his memorial service is this Tuesday, June 16, 2015. He earned the Distinguished Flying Cross, among other commendations, after flying 26 missions in WW2 as a navigator on a B-17 Flying Fortress Bomber. He provided air support for 160,000 allied troops and 5,000 ships at Normandy during the invasion. After his time in the Air Force he worked as a sales representative at Johnson & Johnson while simultaneously working for his MBA at Northwestern University in Chicago. After obtaining his MBA, he was called to serve in Korea for an additional 20 missions.

It’s funny putting all of these things down in writing as any one of these items would earn praise on their own and constitute a full life’s work. Yet, we are not the sum of our accomplishments, we are the thoughts and impressions we impart on our loved ones and coworkers. While America owes Frank a debt of gratitude for his service in two wars, and J&J for his exceptional sales record, it’s who he was as a person that will always be remembered.

When I try to stack my life’s accomplishments next to Frank’s I can only compare to him as a sales representative and a caring husband. Beyond that, Frank is and will be more accomplished than me in all respects. But when I first told him I accepted a job as a sales representative in Houston, Texas he was the most excited person in the room. When I told him I was accepted into Texas A&M’s Mays School of Business, he was equally as thrilled. That’s how I remember him, for his empathy. My joy was his joy, my sadness his sadness.

I’m not writing this only to bring attention to the fact that America has lost another national hero, but also to call attention to one pressing fact. If Frank hadn’t served in two wars, or been a sales representative, or a graduate from Northwestern, he would still be the most important person in the room, because he made everyone else around him feel as though they were the most important person. That’s the lesson I’ve learned from the decade I got to spend with Frank DeHaven. Our accomplishments don’t mean as much as the trust, love, honor, respect, and support we earn from those around us.

All of this being said, please take a moment on Tuesday, June 16, 2015, or whenever you read this, to thank Frank DeHaven and all veterans for their service.