Whenever I hear others telling people the formula for success, I always snicker to myself. My rise to fame was so un-formulaic, I cannot even tell you. My story starts almost 65 years ago on the South Side of Chicago, where I grew up. I (unlike what most of you probably imagine) was not born into a family of wealth. My mother was a secretary who sold Avon on the side. My father was a chicken plucker, who sold live chickens when I was young and later owned a deli.
The truth is my dad spent most of his years being ill with stays in and out of the hospital till he died in 1981 at the age of 71. He had contracted emphysema as well as third-degree burns on his arms and chest after running back into his little 400-square-foot chicken shack that was ablaze. From the car, I watched him retrieve the scalding hot metal cash register that contained all his money. That is when I first learned that my dad obviously thought money was more important than life itself…...read more
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