It was 8:15 A.M., and Bud wasn’t in the conference room yet. I was starting to wonder if I’d heard him correctly when the doors burst open and into the room walked an elderly gentleman.

“Tom Callum?” he said with a hearty smile, extending his hand.

“Yes.”

“Glad to meet you. My name’s Lou. Lou Herbert.”

“Lou Herbert?” I said in astonishment.

I’d seen pictures of Lou and some old video, but his presence was so unexpected that I would’ve never recognized him without his introduction.

“Yes. Sorry for the shock. Bud’s on his way. He’s just checking on a couple of things for a meeting we have this afternoon.”

I was dumbstruck. No words came to mind, so I just stood there nervously—like a first-time actor who had suddenly forgotten his lines.

“You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here,” he said.

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact.”

“Bud called last night and asked if I could join you guys this morning. He wanted me to explain a few things about my history here. I was coming over today anyway for a meeting this afternoon. So here I am.”

“Well, I don’t know what to say. This is incredible to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“I know. It’s almost like I’m already dead, isn’t it?” he said with a grin.

“Yeah, I guess it kind of is,” I said, chuckling, before I knew what I was saying.

“Look, Tom, go ahead, sit. Bud asked me to get started with you before he gets here.” He gestured toward a seat, “Please.”

I sat in my familiar chair from the afternoon before, and Lou took the seat across from me.

“So how’s it been going?”

“You mean yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“It was quite an amazing day, actually. Quite amazing.”

“Really? Tell me about it,” he said.

Although I’d been with Lou for only a minute or two, my nervousness had evaporated. His kindly eyes and gentle demeanor reminded me of my dad, who had died 10 years earlier. I felt completely comfortable in his presence and found myself wanting to share my thoughts with him as I used to with my father.

“Well,” I said, “I hardly know where to begin. I learned a lot yesterday. But let me start with my boy.”

Over the next fifteen minutes or so, I told Lou about the best night I’d had with Laura and Todd in at least five years. It was a night that was extraordinary only because I simply enjoyed being with them without there having to be anything extraordinary to make me enjoy it. I cooked, I laughed, I had my son teach me how to tune up the car. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I enjoyed and felt grateful for my family. And for the first time in a long time, I went to bed with no hard feelings toward anyone in my home.

“What did Laura think of it all?” Lou asked.

“I don’t think she knew what to think. She kept asking me what was going on until I finally had to tell her about what I learned yesterday.”

“Oh, so you tried to teach her?”

“Yeah, and it was a disaster. I think it took me only a minute or so to have her thoroughly confused. ‘The box,’ ‘self-betrayal,’ ‘collusion’—I butchered the ideas so badly, I couldn’t believe it.”

Lou smiled knowingly. “I know what you mean. You hear someone like Bud explain all this and it seems like the simplest thing in the world, but try to do it yourself and you quickly realize how subtle this all is.”

“That’s true. I think my explanations probably created more questions than they answered. But she listened and tried to understand anyway.”

Lou listened intently, his eyes creased with kindness. And although I couldn’t be sure, I thought I saw approval in them as well.

“You might check with Bud to see if this is still going on,” Lou said, “but in the past, a couple of times a year we put on evening-long training events where interested family members could come and learn these ideas. It used to mean a lot to everybody that the company would do that for them. I’m sure it’s still going on—you ought to check with Bud. Laura might really like it.”

“Thanks. I’ll check, for sure.”

Just then, the door swung open and in walked Bud.

“Tom,” he said, exasperated, “sorry I’m late. I had a few last-minute preparations for the meeting with the Klofhausen group this afternoon. As usual, there aren’t enough last minutes.” He set his briefcase down and took the seat between Lou and me at the head of the table.

“Well, Tom, we got lucky.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Lou—he’s the surprise I was hoping for. Lou’s story is the story of how this material has transformed Zagrum, and I wanted him to share it with you if he could.”

“Well, I’m happy I can be here,” Lou said graciously. “But before we get into that story, Bud, I think you should hear about Tom’s night last night.”

“Oh, yes, Tom, I’m sorry. Tell me about your evening.”

I don’t know why, perhaps because I work for Bud and wanted badly to impress him, but I was reticent at first to share what I had shared with Lou. But Lou kept prodding me—‘Tell him about this,’ or ‘Tell him about that’—and I soon relaxed and told Bud all about my evening. After 10 minutes or so, he was smiling, just as Lou had been.

“That’s terrific, Tom,” Bud said. “How was Todd through the evening?”

“About the same as usual—pretty silent. He basically responded to my questions as he always does—mostly with ‘yes’s,’ ‘no’s’ and ‘I don’t know’s.’ But I didn’t seem to mind it last night, whereas before it would’ve driven me crazy.”

“That reminds me of my boy,” Lou said, looking past me and out the window.

He paused for a moment, his eyes looking far away, as if retrieving something from the distant past. “The story of Zagrum’s turnaround starts with him.”