Early in the morning of February 3, 1959 Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J.P. Richardson (The Big Bopper) died in a plane crash in Iowa with their young pilot. My novel, Bad News on the Doorstep, certainly chronicles that day which Don McLean would later label as "the day the music died."
Right to left: Holly, Valens, Richardson
My passion for the generation leading our country and our families at that time possessed me for the ten years I researched and wrote my fictionalized memoir. With dozens of people sincerely responding to Bad News ... by sending e-mails, letters, and calling me directly, it became apparent that while the loss of those three young rock 'n roll stars is still significant to many, it is that time period that so impressed us as special. And really, it was the people who touched our lives during those years that still warm our hearts and touch our psyche.
As many of you know, I spend most of my days designing, writing, and delivering leadership and management development strategies. Achieving balance in one's life is an objective for my listeners that often surfaces in the content of my work. On the other hand, studying human motivation and behavior over the years, I have come to the conclusion that "balance in life" is often an excuse for truly rolling up one's sleeves to toil over a task that has been Providentially planted in one's bosom. In fact, if you are truly engaged in your rage to produce, you just might forget all that is around you, including the people. Permit me to explain and give an example.
When I was writing Bad News on the Doorstep, the hour was often 3 AM in the morning, the location could have been a motel in California, or perhaps it was only 6 AM at Gate 136 at Newark Liberty International Airport. The point is that the controlled madness inside to get the story out transcended time, as well as physical and mental limitations. In fact, there was no dimension of time, and those around me may have become invisible.
Now February is important to me for more reasons than "... the day the music died." It was on a cold February morning in 1961 when a huge cyst in my 14- year old neck was thankfully removed and declared benign. In February of 1971 I entered the resort development industry as a part-time salesman, and I have yet to leave that fine world of sales and marketing. In February of 1976 I was hired by Berg Enterprises, at that time one of the few publicly-owned residential real estate companies in America. Today, much I learned there and many friends from those days are still impacting my life. And, on February 3, 1978 my second daughter Corrine was born to me and my wife Maria.
On February 3, 2003 I called Corrine at her Syracuse University sorority room. To me, the purpose of the call was an emotional and urgent one. "Co-Co," I said. "You know what today is, don't you?"
Her reply was a soft, "Yes, Daddy."
"Honey-bun," I reminded her. "It's the day the music died."
"Ya, Dad. I almost forgot."
We chatted about the recent snow storm on campus, exchanged other pleasantries, and then her totally "unbalanced" and, perhaps, "imbalanced" father said, "Good bye." Yep, if you remember what I wrote above, you would recognize that I had just seemingly forgotten her birthday!!
Well, I called her right back, apologized, and delivered my heartfelt indebtedness for her birth back on February 3 in '78. She laughed and still tells the story to any who may listen. Indeed, her father was hardly leading a "balanced life" on that day in February of 2003, because he was furiously finishing Bad News on the Doorstep, preparing it for an editor and, hopefully, some type of distribution.
The lesson: If you must get something done that is of worth, other aspects of your life may suffer, ... if only for a short time. But, do not fret: Good things don't come easy. Think of goals you have reached, as well as sacrifices made by your loved ones ... maybe for you. "Balance" was not happening, but rather sacrifice and possibly a total draining for a cause or that other person.
The time period I write about in my book features wonderful people who knew little about balance in life. They just gave all they could to their families and their country, often at the expense of themselves. And so many of us have benefitted because of their selfless sacrifice.
(My friend and agent, Mike Finley, emotionally refers to the lead characters in Bad News on the Doorstep as "Heroes of the least of them.") Was it worth it for these heroes? Just look where their children are today in this prosperous and great, yet flawed country. These pilgrims achieved their goal to give us a better life. That is why we call them "the greatest generation."
Yes, every February I am reminded of the loss of Holly, Valens, and The Big Bopper. Because of my beautiful second daughter's birthday, I am now reminded of my oversight in the name of a passion to produce something of worth. She has forgiven me, and I have forgiven myself.
Yes, it was not a great example of balance in life, but it was a moment where being possessed by a cause transcended time and place. It showed that sometimes we are "on assignment", and that mission has to receive total commitment. All is given up for the cause. That's what our parents did, and that's what we have to do from time to time to achieve anything of worth.
"Corrine, Happy Birthday, 2006!"
Correction: The conversation you wrote about took place on the 3rd of February "2000". And it took 3 calls before the date of my birth was acknowledged. In addition, outside of our chatting about the incredible snowfalls in Syracuse NY, the majority of our conversation was about money and how I was spending all of yours. Hence, my immediate forgiveness of a mere oversight on one of the most inspirational, historical days in America... yes, “the day the music died”, but more importantly, my birthday! haha :)
Love ya Dad.
Posted by: Corrine | February 07, 2006 at 10:10 AM