Conquering Life's Toughest Obstacle

Two weeks back, we lost a member of our Syracuse family, Rob Edson.

Click here to watch a video from the memorial service.

Thomas' portion begins around 53:00 mark.

I make my living teaching executives how to speak in front of an audience.  It’s good business since speaking in public is reported to be at the top of most people’s “greatest fears” list – even higher than insects and flying.

Most people I encounter in the business world are just average speakers, if that.  Like many golfers, they do what they can to get by.  If they take a lesson or two, they get a little better, but they’re usually just getting by.  Exceptional speakers have to work really hard at polishing their skills, connecting with the audience and delivering with confidence.  And most people still fall short.  They hit in the 90s on their best day.  That’s why I’m so busy.

My classes are usually small – 8 to 10 people—which is designed to put the executives at ease.  Too many eyeballs looking back at you makes many a corporate presenter’s veins run cold.  I often tell my students that it is rare in the business world that they will have an extra-large audience, say, more than 250 people, since most business presentations take place in a conference room and rarely involve more than 30 or so people.  “Come see me for private coaching when you get a job that requires you to speak to 500-plus,” I tell them, “You’re going to need some extra help.”  The small size of my classes is designed to simulate their reality and to make them more comfortable, but they rarely are.

And then there’s the video camera.  The best way to show a presenter what she looks like in front of an audience is to tape her in action.  Often, the very presence of the camera creates a complete and total meltdown for some class participants.  They just can’t get over it.  It paralyzes them.  They lose their place.  And it’s usually the camera’s fault.

So now you have an audience staring at you and a video camera mounted in the back of the room and now you need to remember what you’re supposed to say?  It’s nearly impossible.  There are just too many things to think about.  Too many variables to manage in your head.  It’s like when the golf pro tells you to mind your shoulders, and your hips, and your grip on the club, and…oh just a few more small things.  It’s just too much pressure.

How, then, can a 14 year old boy give the speech of a lifetime with little or no training?  How can a boy, who just days before spent countless minutes administering CPR to his lifeless 45 year-old father deliver such a moving eulogy so effortlessly?  The cards were most certainly stacked against Thomas on this crisp fall morning.  So many things working against him.  One, he is 14 years old.  Two, his father’s death was sudden and profound and completely unexpected.  Three, Thomas is the one who found him that fateful night.  Four, it is just too hard to face the tragedy of all this.  Five, he is 14 years old.  And he has certainly never had to make a speech quite like this one.

Inside the chapel there are more than 1,100 mourners – many family members and friends (all familiar faces to Thomas) and even more officials, University administrators and perhaps a few celebrities from the sports world.  Add to that the video camera --that very camera whose mere presence petrifies men three or four times Thomas’ age in years.  The camera is running and broadcasting Thomas’ words to more than 1,500 on-line viewers.  Thomas is not phased.  And he is 14 years old.

Fourteen-year old Thomas Edson gave the most profound, the most moving and yes, the most composed speech that this presentation skills coach has ever--bar none--seen.  He delivered with compassion and with courage.  That day, he hit par.  His nervousness was natural, not awkward; and his pacing was melodic –sometimes funny, often serious and always perfect.  Under the most daunting circumstances, Thomas Edson proved what we all wondered about this 14 year old child who has just lost his father and his coach and his travelling companion.  That he is, indeed, a man.  That he has the confidence and courage and character to make it no matter what obstacles life puts in front of him.  That he can take on the tasks that make men 30 and 40 years his senior shudder.  But there’s only one problem.  He’s 14 years old.  And he deserves to be a kid.  

#RiseUpForRob

Videos from Sandy

OK.  I'll admit.  There's not a whole lot you can do when the ENTIRE TOWN is out of power.  So we took to the roads, despite the warnings of elected officials.  What follows is a collection of videos from before, during and after Ms. Sandra. 

This first one is from Monday morning, before the storm.  We took Hogan for a walk at Compo Beach in Westport.  You'll be able to see some of the things people were doing to prepare for the storm.  The wind was already whipping, enough the blow the shedding fur off the ol' boy!  When you faced into the wind, you got a pleasant (?) microdermabrasion treatment -- the cheapest of its kind in Westport!

 

 

 

After sleeping in the Family Room (something else the elected officials advised against, since it involves a large bay window), we woke up Tuesday morning to some fairly calm weather.  The wind gusts and whistling during the night were really scary.  Everything they say about a train coming through is pretty accurate.   Here's what I found when I went out the front door.

 



 

 

The "Big Surprise"...Revealed!

So, last week, I created quite a buzz on Facebook with a "teaser" I put out about a "big surprise" that was in store.

Don't know what everyone was expecting, but what ensued was , indeed, quite a surprise! 


The Backstory:  In 1982, at 17, I set off to Sweden to live with a family as an exchange student.  At the time, I had three Swedish "sisters":  Lena (15), Nilla (10) and Anna (5).  The Rudolfssons were a gregarious, loving family -- not unlike the Fischers back home -- and it was an AMAZING experience!  In subsequent years, all three Rudolfsson girls lived in Erie, joining the brood of fifteen other foreigners who spent time at the Fischer house over the years.  Additionally, my cousin Amy (of Syracuse fame) lived with the Rudolfssons for one high school summer.  That's a whole lot of "exchanging" of students, I'd say!


Over the years we've stayed in touch with the vast majority of those siblings, a few more than others.  And, thanks to Facebook, now more frequently than ever! Round about January, I put out a request asking our "siblings" to help Mom and Dad celebrate their 50th, and I never would have dreamed of the response that came from middle sister, Nilla:  "I'm coming and I'll bring my daughter Emma!"


It was hard to keep this "secret" from Mom and Dad over the ensuing months, but somehow we managed.  The Swedes flew into JFK and spent a couple of days in NYC.  I joined them for part of the time. (see photos from our adventure in this outstanding album).  And then we made the long drive to Erie.   For the last two hours of the drive, we schemed about how to best surprise them without giving anyone a complete heart failure!


Bottom line, when we got to Erie, I asked Mom to come out to the car because I "had some things in the back seat that I need help with."


What follows is the series of pictures from that moment.


Mom opens the door, and there's Nilla (with her camera poised, of course):

I took this one from outside the car:

And then this one:

And finally, this one:

Just a few minutes later, Dad came home from Wegman's and we had to pull off the surprise all over again.  This time, we told him that he had to help us bring some things up from the basement.  And here's what he found at the bottom of the steps...

Chili Time and a Little "Borderline"

I'm not that into the Super Bowl this year.  And I should be.  After all, I LOVE football, and geographically, you can't live more squarely in the eye of the Giants - Patriots hurricane (deja vu, here's my post from that last time we found ourselves at this place).

So, to get myself into the spirit, I've donned my official Steelers jersey (Todd has reminded me that my team is, indeed, not playing in the Super Bowl this year) and concocted an amazing batch of chili (I shared my secret recipe in the post linked above).  Of course, we have enough to feed a small army, and this is one type of "human food" that we don't share with Hogan.  So we'll have to freeze the leftovers.  ...unless you want to stop in for a bite!

So aside from watching commercials and enjoying the performance of a 50-year old virgin in tights, I've decided to cheer for the red, white and blue team.  And eat chili.