Big Legacies, Yes or No?

If you can't take it with you, yet you want to leave something meaningful behind, how do you decide just what that something should be? One way I've tried to answer that question is to look at people I know and consider their legacies.

My client Dick Lyles falls into the BIG LEGACIES category. If you called down to the proverbial "Central Casting" for the all-American success story, they would likely have sent you the charismatic and good-looking Dick Lyles: highly prosperous businessman and entrepreneur, author of nine books, rock-star media personality with a nationally syndicated radio show, honors graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy and decorated Vietnam war veteran, and husband for 43 years to his high school sweetheart Martha, a former model and accomplished person in her own right.

Yet, when Dick was struck down by a rare infection eight years ago and almost died, he and Martha dedicated themselves to a new mission they hope will inspire 65 million American Catholics to a deeper appreciation and pride in their faith. And to one-up the ante, they and their supporters hope by doing so, they will have a transformative effect on American culture. That's what I call legacy, or as Jerry Porras and James Collins write in Built to Last, BHAGS (Big Hairy Audacious Goals).

Now let me tell you about Rod Wirtjes, a young man who grew up in Elmore, Minn., one of those classic small towns that might have captured the artistic imagination of Norman Rockwell. Rod was taught to treat everyone with thoughtfulness and respect, to be honest and work hard, and to take care of the people he loved and his community. He took these lessons to heart and by every measure succeeded as a loyal friend, co-worker and volunteer, and as a loving son, brother, husband and father. Rod's BHAGS were to actually be the kind of man that earns comments like the "backbone of the community" and "what makes America great."

On June 3, 1988, Rod Wirtjes, 30, was killed in a work accident, leaving behind a pregnant wife and a one-and-a-half-year-old boy, grieving parents, and a very large hole in a small community.
So what should I or the faithful reader learn about legacy from these two men? One might suggest that Dick will leave the greater legacy because of all that he has accomplished in life, and all the possibilities that remain. Dick's work has impacted thousands and could impact millions. Rod, on the other hand, touched fewer people in his short life but had a profound and lasting impact on each and every one of them. His family and friends have gone on to be the same solid pillars of their communities that Rod would have been.

In the end, I decided that both men represent BIG LEGACIES because both did everything they could with the talents and passions they possessed to make a difference in the world. If Dick had not recovered from his brush with death, we still would say his was a life well lived. And even though Rod's life was cut tragically short, all who know him would agree: his was a life well lived. I certainly would agree, even though I never met Rod Wirtjes. But I did meet his widow and two boys three years after he died. I fell in love with all three of them and have now been husband and father for 20 years. I watch Rod's legacy unfold every day.