A magnificent story of mentorship and enduring sense of gratitude. Inspiring.
There’s a retired guy on a yacht off the coast of Florida who gets an annoying text from me every six months.
No, I’m not asking to buy his HVAC company. Or even to borrow his boat (then again…).
It’s simply a note to say: Thank you.
You see, this guy was my mentor. And he changed my life.
When I was a young analyst, this guy—let’s call him Ted—was a senior dealmaker at my employer, Koch Industries. He was the last of a bygone era, from the generation of guys who started their careers smoking Marlboros in the office and drinking scotch over lunch. Wild West Wichita dealmakers who would put a transaction together, model it by hand on a single sheet of graph paper, get a young Charles Koch to sign off on it, and somehow make $800M for the company over the next five years (back when $800M meant something!).
When I started working with Ted, it was at both the apex and the twilight of his career. He had no team, no formal job description, and no daily responsibilities. What he did have was a mandate—and a very long leash—to dream up deals, and, through sheer force of will, get them across the finish line in a large, risk-averse corporate bureaucracy that liked nothing better than suffocating good opportunities.
And he was absolutely masterful at this.
I’ve been blessed to have had the opportunity to work with some exceptionally smart, capable business leaders throughout my career. But few people I’ve ever met in the world of finance have come close to the level of Ted’s insightfulness, rapid ability to distill complicated business situations into fundamental principles, and acumen for structuring a complex transaction that just barely manages to thread the needle for all stakeholders involved.
And certainly no one else in that small group of people was able to combine that forceful intellect with the force of will, charisma, bawdy humor, and sheer joie de vivre that Ted brought to every deal he led. In the stiff, buttoned-down world of M&A, Ted truly was one of a kind.
I’ll have lots more stories about Ted over the next few months. I could write a book about everything I learned from him during our frequent trips to backwoods Arkansas together. One day, maybe I will.
But I’m digressing. Back to the text messages.
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