Win the Heart

Blake and Megan spent the next few minutes setting the context for their big adventure. They explained at a high level Blake’s current challenge with the engagement of his organization and how this led him to discover his father’s book project.

“Yes,” Bob said, “I knew about the book. Your dad’s research led him to Texas. We were known in small circles as innovative with our people practices, and he came here to see what he could learn. However, in the end, I learned far more from him.”

“Okay, where should we begin?” Megan asked. “We would love to know what you learned from each other.”

“Maybe we should start with a little history lesson,” Bob said.

“Sounds good,” Blake said.

Bob walked to a cabinet and pulled out a large photo album. He handed it to Megan.

“My great-great-great-great-grandfather won the ranch in a poker game, or at least the first parcel of land. That was 1794. He was the first innovator in our family—always looking for ways to make the ranch and the people better. He’s the one who named this place and established our brand.”

“Tell us about that. What does NHH stand for?”

“There’s a picture of the front gate—he put that up around 1800. Can you read it? Photo quality was crappy in those days.”

Megan squinted and said, “No Hired Hands.”

“NHH,” Bob said. “That’s our brand, but it has always been more than a brand—it’s a deeply held belief system. You see, Pops, as everyone called him, believed in human worth and dignity at least a century before it was cool,” Bob smiled.

“He was clearly ahead of his time,” Blake said.

“I’ll say! I still don’t think most leaders in the world get it,” Bob added.

“Okay, let’s be clear—what is the ‘it’ you are referring to?” Megan asked.

“If you just hire a man’s hands, you miss the opportunity to win his heart!” Bob’s energy ticked up a notch. “Pops knew this intuitively. He spent his life trying to care for his people. He believed if he demonstrated genuine care for his people, in return, the people would care deeply about their work. He passed that philosophy down to his son, who passed it to his, and so on. It’s the only way I knew to lead, so it became my approach as well.

“Let me show you something.” Bob got up, walked to a nearby wall, and removed a shadow box that was about twelve inches square with a dark walnut frame.

“This is what Jeff and I talked about on our last visit just before he died.”

The three looked down into the shallow box, which contained a single item on a background of white velvet. It was a heart made of what appeared to be a horseshoe.

If you just hire a man’s hands, you miss the opportunity to win his heart!

“Tell us the story,” Blake said eagerly.

“Pops received this from Horace, his blacksmith, just before Horace’s death. Mildred, Horace’s wife, said it was the last thing he ever made. He gave it to Pops and said thank you for all the care he showered on him and his family . . . and everyone else who worked for him.

“This simple, primitive heart became a constant reminder to Pops; he kept it on his desk for the rest of his life to remind him of his opportunity as a leader. Here’s what Pops knew: Success is not found in a man’s hands; it’s the heart that makes all the difference! A real leader wins hearts! This was his daily reminder—you can train hands, but you must win hearts.”

“Will you tell us about what you referred to as your ‘approach?’” Blake said.

“Truthfully, for generations, it was more of an overarching philosophy built on the idea of demonstrating genuine care for our employees. We were successful, but our methods were very loose, random really. That’s what I told your dad on his first visit. Together, we were trying to articulate how to truly win the hearts of our people. We knew that if we could figure this out, everyone would benefit.”

“That’s the fundamental question,” Blake said. “How do we win the hearts of our people?”

“This is what your dad had been traveling the world trying to discover. And I think he found it! The clarity he brought to this issue was refreshing. In many ways, he gave language to what my family had been trying to do for over two centuries,” Bob said.

“What had he learned? Can you tell us?” Megan’s voice strained.

“You tell me what you’ve been able to piece together,” Bob said. “I’ll let you know if you’re close.”

Megan and Blake recounted their travels from Selma to Green Bay and the tentative conclusions from each visit.

Megan concluded the world tour: “We believe Connection, Environment, Affirmation, and Responsibility are the drivers of genuine care.”

“What do you think? Did we get it right? Did we miss anything?” Blake asked anxiously.

“Is there anything else?” Bob asked.

“Well . . .” Blake said, “not, unless you can tell us something more. We’ve exhausted all our clues.”

Megan interrupted, “You have affirmed one thing today: the leader’s goal should be to win the heart; that is the capstone—the big idea linking all of this together.”

“You are correct; I think your father and I agreed on that. Anything else?” he added with a wry smile, as if he were baiting them a little bit.

“No, sir. I’m sorry, that’s all we’ve got,” Blake said.

“You are almost there.” Bob flashed a huge smile. “It is hard to believe you’ve been able to recreate your father’s work so well. You’ve only missed one little detail.”

“Yes . . .?” Megan said nervously.

“Okay, our philosophy is built on the foundational premise that people who really care do better work. They have more energy and enthusiasm and contribute more . . . their discretionary effort increases significantly.”

Bob continued, “The answer, as it turned out, was for us, as leaders, to consciously and proactively provide the critical elements needed for care to flourish: Connection . . .” Bob paused for effect before stating the next element: “Affirmation . . .”

Before he could finish, Blake burst into the conversation: “Responsibility and Environment!”

Megan laughed out loud. “It spells CARE! Could it have been more obvious?”

Blake joined her in laughing at themselves. “It may be obvious now,” Blake said, “but standing on the Edmund Pettus Bridge, it wasn’t clear at all.”

“Now, you have the whole story. The key to higher levels of care by employees is for leaders to provide the cornerstones of CARE,” Bob said.

“CARE produces caring,” Megan offered.

“Bob, you just used a word I’ve not considered—you called these cornerstones. I’ve been thinking of them as drivers. Will you say more about your choice of language?” Blake asked.

“Gladly. You can call them anything you want, but for me, cornerstone is the best way to describe them. In my day, the cornerstones were the most critical part of any structure—everything rested on them. You’ll find, over time, there are countless ways to win the hearts of people, but without the things we’ve been discussing, your organization will not be as strong as it could be . . . always operating on a shaky foundation.

“Besides, you drive cattle,” Bob smiled. “You build a culture of care.”

“Thank you!” Blake said. “Thanks for opening your home to us, for continuing the legacy of your forefathers, and for being a living example of the principles and practices my dad was trying to learn.”

As the couple stood at the door exchanging hugs, it was Megan’s turn to be emotional. She knew Bob had influenced Jeff, who in turn had helped Blake become the man he was. Her heart was filled with gratitude for the chance to meet Bob. With tears in her eyes, all she could get out was “Thank you.”

“I have a parting question for you, Bob,” Blake said.

“Shoot.”

“Why did you sell the ranch after all those years?” Blake asked.

“Well, I finally got too old to be a rancher—you know, I’ll be ninety-five years young this year.”

“Congratulations!” Megan said.

“Thanks—I’ve been blessed in so many ways.” Bob paused. “Back to your question . . . We had a family meeting and discussed the fact that my son, who is now seventy-five, didn’t want to be in the business anymore—he wanted to go fishing! Can you imagine?” He chuckled. “So, we decided we could do a lot of good with the cash. We started a foundation to help folks in developing countries learn how to build their own successful ranches. We liked the idea of passing on what we’ve learned,” Bob said.

“Sounds like a wonderful cause,” Blake said.

“Now, I have one final question for you,” Bob said.

“Yes, sir?”

“Are you going to finish your dad’s book?”

“I had not really planned to,” Blake said.

“I think you should,” Bob said.

“I’ll consider it . . . only if you agree to write the foreword.”

“Deal,” Bob said.