Flew down to New Orleans today. I am on the Board of Trustees of the National WW2 Museum. Sometimes, when folks serve on museum boards, they do it because they think it’s a great service project. Or, they do it because it’s good for the community. My experience with this board hasn’t been like that.
I don’t serve on this board because it’s good for my career. I serve on the board because I have a real passion. I was born on May 8. It was President Harry Truman’s birthday, and it was also V-E day in America. I don’t think the President could have gotten a better birthday present. When I brought Walt Ehlers on the floor of the CME, he got a rousing reception. Bigger than Michael Jordan’s.
Some guys on our board actually fought in WW2. Some survived the Holocaust. This is a real event. It’s not just words on paper in a book. Even though their numbers are dwindling, we have a golden opportunity to be able to listen and learn from them. One of my fellow board members is Richard Duchossois. I tell him that I want to be his coffee boy for a week because every time I am with him I learn something. Another board member that I adore is Paul Hilliard. When I grow up, I want to be Paul. He is going to let me know what that is like when he grows up! (Paul is going to be 90 and he is younger than me)
Ironically, even though a lot of my fellow board members are from New Orleans, and there is a certain civic pride in having this museum here, I don’t get that sense from them. There is a purpose and a mission. They serve something greater than themselves, and that is preserving the memories of the people in world that sacrificed everything. It’s also about using those memories to educate people so it never happens again.
In my position, I am extremely lucky to meet lots of cool people. I met the Doolittle Raiders. I made a connection with Louis Zamperini, and he gave his oral history to the museum. Last month, I chatted with Herschel “Woody” Williams and introduced him to some friends of mine who didn’t know who he was, or what he represented. By the way, Woody didn’t care. He is just happy to be alive and if you ever get the chance to meet him you will feel his aura. After they looked him up, they realized they were talking to a piece of history, and a special person that lifts all of humanity.
Lots of folks come to New Orleans and hit Bourbon Street. Who could blame them? But, they ought to take a short detour and visit the museum. See the movie (I cry every time I watch it). Go through the exhibits. I am in awe, every time. It is a small slice of American history that we have the chance to touch and feel. It feels like it was so long ago, but Hitler invaded Poland only 75 years ago. There are people alive that still remember.
The World War Two Museum is opening up a new pavilion tomorrow. We have a lot of honored guests here. Tonight, I was fortunate to listen to Ed Tipper. He is in his nineties. He was apart of the famous Easy Company that Stephen Ambrose wrote about in Band of Brothers. He parachuted into France on Jun 5th. His war was over on Jun 12th. He was severely wounded.
Ed has a lot of great stories. But tonight he went off topic and talked about something interesting. I recant it because it makes one think. At some point after their jump pre D Day, Easy Company took control of three barns. For the next few days, the Nazi’s relentlessly attacked them. Ed didn’t know why. He thought, “These guys keep coming at us, is there gold buried here or what?”. 50 years after D Day he was at those same barns. A historian said, “Easy Company took these barns. Because they succeeded in holding them, the Nazi’s were unable to transport munitions to the pill boxes that defended Utah Beach.”
Took 50 years for Ed to learn that. In June of 1944, he just figured that they were doing what they were supposed to do. At the time, they had no idea of the strategic implications of what they were doing. They had no way of knowing how many lives they saved. Certainly, because of what they did, the attack on Utah Beach was easier.
I don’t mean to diminish the heroism of Ed and his fellow soldiers. But, there are certainly practical lessons that we can glean from his experience. Little things that you think are unimportant may in fact be very crucial to future outcomes. Paul Graham calls this, “doing things that don’t scale”. We don’t know with any certainty how history will rule on what we do today. Ed and his buddies took those barns because it seemed like the right thing to do. They didn’t ask what history would think. They were in the moment.
We all need to be more in the moment. Do what is right for today with a larger goal in mind. Know the end game, but reach mini-milestones that take you on the path there.
In your business, where are your barns? How will you take them, and defend them? Do they get you to a meaningful goal?
An aside: If you have a history of World War Two in your family, honor and commemorate their service here. For $200, no one will ever forget them. Ever.