The guy on the left grew up a lot like I did, just a few miles from where I did.  Its the kind of place where you always have black dirt under your fingernails.  Where you can fix a fence or a John Deere tractor on the fly with not much more than some wire and a pliers.  Its a place where you slosh through ankle-high mud to feed bawling cattle.  All day, every day.  Rain or shine.  Hell or high water.  It’s a place where you grow up working as hard as your old man, just to prove it to him and to yourself.  

He was one-half of the backfield for a pretty decent football team in one of those places where the whole town shows up on a Friday night.  [I was the other half.  That’s me on the right.]  This is the kind of guy that within a day or two after graduating high school shipped off to serve his country and the U.S. Marines.  Somehow along the way he talked a soft-spoken girl from Japan to marry him.  

Now he runs the show.  He and his ExpressJet team put 1,600 flights in the air each day.  All day, every day.  Rain or shine.  Hell or high water.