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From the Guardian, “The former Enron chairman whose name became a byword for boardroom deceit and corruption, Ken Lay, died in an exclusive ski resort yesterday while awaiting sentence for his involvement in America’s biggest ever corporate fraud.”
What a sentence. What an epitaph.
That man was once someone’s little boy. He was a little boy. And sometime, way back in time, chairmanship of a world-class corporation was a miraculous dream. An incredible, unfathomable hope. It was clean and pure and right. It was the pinnacle of achievement.
It is so easy to place an exclusive resort, a massive company, and a life of wealth at the top … at the front. And to leave integrity, honor, and honesty as servants to that goal.
“These are not servants …”
I remind myself of that daily … and I forget that almost instantly.
On the floor, crumpled in a heap, sawing frantically for life, Ken Lay had nothing. Nothing. Nothing!
For all that work, for all he gave away, for every second of every day, for every thing: nothing
I will not be that man.
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