I read a story recently that I have to share by Bob Greene, a CNN contributing writer. Greene was a friend of Jeff Zaslow, author of the critically acclaimed book,
The Last Lecture. Zaslow was killed in a head on car crash in February.
Here is what Greene wrote. It's worth the read: In early September 2007, Jeff was working on a Wall Street Journal column about a trend he was hearing about at U.S. universities. Professors were thinking what they might say if they had to deliver one last lecture, and were in fact giving those lectures, summing up what had been meaningful in their lives.
As he was reporting the piece, Jeff learned that a professor at Carnegie Mellon -- Pausch -- was going to give what might literally be his last lecture. Pausch was dying from pancreatic cancer.
It was going to be inconvenient for Jeff to go from Detroit to Pittsburgh for the speech; there was a problem with the price of the flight, and the schedule, and he also had obligations to attend to in Michigan that day. It would have been much easier just to call the professor and get a quote, or have the university send him an audio or video recording of the lecture. Remember: Jeff didn't even know, at that point, whether Pausch's lecture would warrant a whole column.
But he got up that morning in Detroit and -- Jeff being Jeff -- decided that he really ought to see for himself.
He was an established and respected Wall Street Journal staff member; no one at the paper would have faulted him for doing a quick interview with Pausch on the phone.
Jeff got in his car and drove more than 300 miles from Detroit to Pittsburgh to sit in the audience and listen to the speech. A five-hour drive there, and then a five-hour, 300-mile drive back.
It paid off spectacularly, of course. The column -- moving, tender, insightful -- was a sensation, and the book that he ended up writing with Pausch gave Jeff a new career in the top echelon of American authors, and provided financial security for his family.
But -- and this is what is important -- it was nothing he didn't do all the time. In his work, he always went the extra step -- the extra hundred steps. He never took the easy way.
I remember, seven or eight years ago, well before "The Last Lecture," Jeff had come to Chicago to interview an old-time vaudeville performer. To the best of my recollection, the newspaper story was going to have something to do with audiences, or audience reactions.
The old performer was going to be one sliver of a longer piece. An easy phone-call interview.
But Jeff didn't do things that way. He flew to Chicago and, suitcase in hand (he hadn't checked into his hotel yet), met me at the restaurant where we had arranged to have dinner. At one point we talked about why, at this stage in his career, he still pushed himself so hard. He said he just wanted to look into the man's eyes when he interviewed him the next day. He felt the story would be a little better that way.
At the end of the meal we went to the coat-check window; they had taken Jeff's suitcase down a long flight of stairs to store it on a basement level. Jeff didn't want the young woman to have to carry it up the stairs, so he went down to get it. I stood there and watched as he came up the steep flight of stairs, visibly weary, huffing, sweating, lugging the heavy bag; we looked at each other and both of us burst out laughing.
"Look at you," I said. "You look like 'Death of a [cuss-word-adjective] Salesman.'"
"I know," he said. "Why do I do this?"
We both knew the answer. He did it because it was the right way to do a job. And it doesn't matter what a person does for a living. It can be the lawyer who stays late to look up a few more citations of case law, to give his client the best possible chance. It can be the teacher who goes over the lesson plan one more time, adding something vital to it at midnight, even though the students or the school administrators will never be aware of the effort she has put in. It can be the factory
worker who takes it upon himself to check the specifications a third and fourth time, wanting to be absolutely certain that the product will be as close to perfect as humanly possible.
Does it always pay off, as Jeff's 10 hours on the road paid off with "The Last Lecture"? Of course not. It hardly ever pays off that big. Most times, your boss, your colleagues, your own family will never know that you put in the extra effort when you didn't have to.
But you'll know. That's what counts. And when the day finally comes when you have your big success, when you get your big break, it won't be because you made the extra effort once. It will be because you made the extra effort every time.
Jeff did. And that's the lesson I'd like to pass on for him.
Me too. Thanks for reading. We'll see you soon, at the barn.
Parker
Pictures above to the right: From the Raleigh show and one of a precious, worn-out champions, little Allison, sent in by her cute mom, Jennifer MacLean