In this chapter, two friends who had not seen each other in years joined a wildlife rescue team to determine security of bald eagle fledglings in a vast natural recreation area. After the work was complete they went camping as a reward. What happened that evening in the rugged wilderness taught as much about nature, as it did about strength, precision and determination, in a man named Peter Churchfield. Who made a fortune while all those around him were losing theirs. Continuing the conversation from last time…
Peter’s emotions were about to get the better of him, so once more I stepped in with an assist. “Do you have kids, Bernie?”
“Grown. I raised two boys, two years apart. They’re good friends, but they live in California. I don’t see them much.”
Peter soon composed himself. “My son, Kristopher, lives in California.”
I could tell this put some new wind in his sails, even though I knew he was thinking of the difficulties he’d had with that relationship. “Bernie, the most Peter and Wendy can do for Kimberly is to keep her comfortable and content. Kristopher, on the other hand, had his dad’s warm heart, good looks, and positive attitude. Women especially appreciate Kristopher’s special gifts and depth of caring. But one girl in particular created a situation that caused conflict. Everyone knew she was not the right girl, but he found it difficult to separate from her.”
Peter caught the pass. “Kristopher was a good athlete. He was also sensitive, and this situation with this needy stalker of girl became so annoying that he internalized the problem. Filled with anger, he skipped college and left for Los Angeles, needing a change of pace and a new beginning. We were stunned but could not convince him to change his mind. He was always a kind, loving brother to Kimberly, but he probably needed relief from witnessing all her suffering. All three of us were devastated when he up and left. We had no idea how he’d find his way out there.”
“So what happened to him?” Bernie asked.
“He applied for a union card so he could act in movies. And while he waited for work, he partied. This worked for him for a while. But he could have done more if he’d worked all day up to his elbows in grease—like I did when I was his age—to learn some discipline.”
With Peter’s comment, a breeze stirred the leaves and the flames became embers. Our moods shifted as well. At this point, I thought that Bernie seemed embarrassed for hearing so much and having accepted our hospitality.
Peter jumped to his feet. “Enough! Maybe Bernie is bored with the conversation. And I have something special—just what the doctor ordered.” He went into the trailer and soon reappeared at the fire with three brandy snifters.
“Do you drink Napoleon cognac, Bernie?” Peter asked. “Here, buddy, take one.”
Bernie was so riveted by Peter’s insights and elegant hospitality he apparently disregarded any fear about the dangerous proposition of hiking back to his campsite in the dark. “I used to drink it every chance I got, when I could afford it,” Bernie replied, examining the crystal glass.
“You know, I had a lot of bad breaks, Bernie,” Peter continued. “But when I was Kristopher’s age, I learned how to stay focused on work, school, and family. I was always attentive for ways to improve my life and not run away from problems. I would still be freezing my ass off in Cleveland right now if it hadn’t been for the courage I found to face challenges and know a good opportunity. I was at a neighborhood Christmas party in Cleveland in 1968. Wendy stayed home with the kids. One of the guests was an out-of-town friend of the host who owned an office equipment and supply company in Fairfield. It was a small company that sold mimeograph machines, but I could tell that he was on to something; he had a passion and vision about growing this company around the copier craze. He asked if I’d be interested in coming to work for him, in sales. I looked him squarely in the eye and said, ‘I don’t know a thing about New Jersey or that business.’ But the next day, I called him. He flew me to New Jersey to meet with his sales manager, his partner, and a few staff members. Two days before Christmas, he called and said I could start on January 21. I was thrilled. I didn’t know a typewriter ribbon from a robin’s egg, yet here I was starting this new job.
“Wendy thought it was crazy, but we started packing on New Year’s Day and never looked back.”
Continued here next time.
Read the complete story in the book, The Quiet Rich: Ordinary People Reawakening an American Dream.
Kevin J. Palmer, Author
