PROLOGUE
IN ONE OF THE EARLIEST PHOTOGRAPHS OF MYSELF, I’m not much more than three years old. Wearing a long-sleeve white shirt and overalls, I’m sitting on the step in the back of my parents’ dry goods store in Cleveland, Ohio, that led to our small apartment. My eyes are fixed with a mixture of awe and admiration on the woman across the room.
The woman is my mother, the single greatest influence on my life. Almost everything I am, almost everything I became, I owe to her—from the core values that formed the foundation of my life—integrity, respect, honesty, and generosity—to the highly effective habits of a life of discipline, reason, entrepreneurship, and hard work. Ma gave me the moral compass that helped instill purpose in my life and the ...
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