Brian P. Walsh - Beyond the Mask: How My Tragedy Sparked an Incredible Life: Lessons I Might Never Have Learned

Advance Praise for Beyond the Mask

Brian Walsh had to endure something truly horrifying to learn lessons that helped him live an incredible life. He shares them in this book, which is a gift to anyone who reads this inspiring, powerful, and engaging story.

Jon Gordon, bestselling author of The Carpenter and Training Camp

This book is filled with real life wisdom that can help you be more, do more, and serve more.

Nido Qubein,
President of High Point University

Sometimes the best life lessons are learned from people who have gone through unimaginable hardship. Brian Walsh pushed through his tragedy to become one of the best leadership teachers, and his reflections and advice are invaluable.

Dana Perino, former White House Press Secretary

Ive been telling Brian Walsh for years that he needed to write a book. He did not just write one, but wrote a great one. My friend learned to live a life with a new face. And he now teaches us to do the sameto put down our masks, face ourselves and ignite a fire in our hearts to live, lead and love in a more burning way.

Tommy Spaulding, New York Times bestselling author of The Heart-Led Leader and Its Not Just Who You Know

A POST HILL PRESS BOOK

ISBN: 978-1-64293-418-2

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-64293-419-9

Beyond the Mask:

How My Tragedy Sparked an Incredible Life: Lessons I Might Never Have Learned

2020 by Brian P. Walsh

All Rights Reserved

Cover art by David Ter-Avanesyan, ter33design.com

This is a work of nonfiction. All people, locations, events, and situations

are portrayed to the best of the authors memory.

Although every effort has been made to ensure that the personal and professional advice present within this book is useful and appropriate, the author and publisher do not assume and hereby disclaim any liability to any person, business, or organization choosing to employ the guidance offered in this book.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

Post Hill Press

New York Nashville

posthillpress.com

Published in the United States of America

We are more disturbed by a calamity which threatens us than by one which has befallen us.

John Lancaster Spalding

Contents

N ew Orleans, Convention Center, June 2005. Waiting in the wing of a stage that looks out on an enormous hall.

I should be nervous. It will be only the second time Ive talked publicly about my private selfthe first time was a disasterand in a few minutes Ill walk out on stage to speak before nine thousand people. Before I even open my mouth, anyone who knows me knows what has made my story worth telling. Anyone who doesnt can make a damn good guess.

I give speeches several times a year. Business workshops, finance-related conferences, addressing divisions of companies that think I can motivate them to be more profitable (or less unprofitable). There could be three hundred people in the room, or thirty. Nine thousand? This will be a first.

Im not nervous, though. A bit jacked, sure. And distracted. I should be going over my openingIll be reading from a teleprompterbut instead Im thinking about a mystery:

How is it that Im one of the happiest people I know? After what I went through, how is that possible? When no matter how hard I may want to hide what I went through, I cant?

Me, happiest? Seriously?

Something is wrong with this picture.

Yet its true. Im never down in the dumps or hopeless. In fact, Im usually happy. Overflowing with gratitude and upbeat to the point (as my wife will tell you) of overdoing it, involved to the point (as my kids will tell you) of trying to solve everyones problems, and able to stay calm (as my business partner will tell you) when everythings going to hell.

Im not patting myself on the back. Im no better than anyone. There are so many people who do things I never could.

But Im pretty confident in my self-assessment, which no one would have predicted after that night so many years ago. A lot of those who saw the damage didnt think Id survive until morning. No offense, but I have a huge advantage over many people because I went through something gruesome, a waking nightmare, and somehow it did not ruin me. Do I know how I was able to do that? Looking back, yeah, kind of. You know the saying, You can let the moments define you or you can define the moments? That moment, those ten or thirty or sixty secondsyou cant fault me for losing track of time, and given the chaos, none of my brothers in arms could say exactly how long I was there, conscious and then unconsciousthat moment was not going to define me, I dont care how awful.

Im not looking for credit for coming out of that. I do want to understand it enough that others understand it, because I think it could be helpful.

I dont feel nervous but maybe I am bracing myself for the convention center crowd. I never get lost in a crowd. I often wish I could but I cant. Its okay. Look: I dont love walking through malls or along busy boardwalks, but I can handle it. Time made it easier. You adjust. (Its easier for me than for my kids, and Brian Jr. often wants to pop someone in the nose.) Most people look. For those that do, the second glance is guaranteed. The ones caught unawaresturning a corner or stepping out of a car or snapping out of a daydreamsometimes look as if theyve been knocked back, as if theyve been hit by something physical. Kids, little kids, bother me less than grown-ups because for kids, its curiosity. No judgment. They simply want to understand. At an Eagles game or shopping with Mary Ann at Super Fresh grocery, when a child is close enough and still young enough to point and boldly address his or her curiosity (What happened to you?) before Mom or Dad realizes whats happening, I wish the parent didnt feel embarrassed and mutter an apology I never asked for, or try to whisk the kid away. I usually say, Thats okay, maam, or No problem, sir. Id like to answer the question. And I do. Its real simple. I was a firefighter and I got hurt in a fire. One hundred percent of the time, the little girl or little boy is satisfied with the answer and usually looks away, done, onto something else strange in the world. Grown-ups? They rarely move on so easily.

I moved on long ago. The road Ive been on since that night is a remarkable one, filled with great joy and satisfactions as well as considerable pain and difficulty, including four dozen reconstructive facial surgeries (my count may be off by a couple). I dont know how many people thought I could get where I am, as I am. Mary Ann believed in me practically before she even saw what I looked like. Huge credit to a woman who agrees to a lunch date with a guy wearing a mask. I know that each of my three beautiful, incredible kidsBrian Jr., Matt, and Katiebelieved in me from the beginning, though for accuracys sake, by the time the first of them showed up I was well on my way to whatever this event here in New Orleans means. When Brian Jr. was born, I had already lived with the effects of the accident for seven years. Every person who knew me when the accident happened thought it was about the worst possible thing ever, yet it was alsoclich alert the best.