I grew up on a farm just outside of the thriving micropolitan community of Findlay Ohio. One hundred sixty acres of land. We grew wheat, corn, and soybeans. Also had some livestock, which lead me to be in 4-H, which helped fund my college education. Life on the farm seemed simple in a way. Busy in the spring planting season. Watch it grow in the summer. Harvest it in the fall. Play in the snow.
In addition to all this, my dad worked a full-time factory job. Full time farmer, full time factory worker, full time dad. Mom worked too. She was a Registered Nurse and she spent her time caring for others, but it was felt most at home, where she excelled at caring for us. My sister and I were 4 years apart (she’s older, yep), but we found things to do together and kept fighting to a minimum (at least that’s how I remember it).
It was on that farm that I learned the value of hard work, grit, determination, what it means to fall and get back up again. I learned that sweat and dirt and kindness were the only way forward. It breaks, fix it. It doesn’t grow, water it. It squeaks, grease it. All those experiences roll up into the man I am today. A financial advisor by trade, a husband, a dad. And hopefully by some standards, a hard worker. I try to be someone who operates with integrity, while trying to teach my kids to do what they say, to be honest, to look a person in the eye while firming gripping their hand, to stand up when greeting a friend or potential new friend, how to check the oil in a car, take responsibility, not make excuses. The things my dad taught me, I pass on…
Striving to be excellent in all I do, failing miserably at times, getting back up. The sun will rise tomorrow. The Markets will open. There’s work to be done. Day’s a wastin’…
