05/12/2026
John Q. Hammons was 94 years old and a billionaire. I was 26, broke, and the night manager at his hotel, working for ten dollars an hour after a recession led wage freeze.
He kept a penthouse apartment at the top of the property and lived there with his nurse. Most evenings, part of the job was bringing his dinner up. A Coors Light, a plate of apples and cheese.
He always sat up front in the shuttle on the rare nights we drove out to the nursing home to visit his wife. Always with advice. "Build on the interstate," he liked to say. He was a product of the interstate era.
One night at a red light, I eased off the brake and started to accelerate just as the light turned green, like I'd known it was coming. He looked over, surprised. "How did you know the light was going to turn green?"
"Simple. I was just watching the lights for the other directions turn red."
He sat with that for a while. We both did.
A 94-year-old billionaire. A broke 26-year-old. Both walked away with something that night.
There's always more to learn. You never know where it's coming from.
Pay attention to what's around you, not just what's in front of you. That's most of the trick.