Howard G. Buffett - 40 Chances

Foreword

My late wife, Susie, and I had our first child soon after we were marriedthough not, she would want me to add, so soon as to raise questions in that more judgmental era. We named her Susie as well, and she proved to be such an easy baby to handle that we quickly planned for another child. The difficulties of parenthood, my wife and I concluded, had been vastly overhyped.

And then Howard Graham Buffett arrived seventeen months later in December 1954. After a few months of coping with him, Susie Sr. and I decided an extended pause was essential before our having a third (and last) child, Peter. For Howie was a force of nature, a tiny perpetual-motion machine. Susie had plenty of days when she felt life would have been easier if she had instead given birth to some boring triplets.

Howie was named after two of my heroes, men who remain heroes to me as I write this almost six decades later. First, and forever foremost, was my dad, Howard, who in his every word and act shaped my life. Ben Graham was an obvious choice as well, a wonderful teacher whose ideas enabled me to accumulate a large fortune. Howie began life in big shoes.

Through Howies early years, I had no idea as to what direction his life would take. My own dad had given me a terrific gift: he told me, both verbally and by his behavior, that he cared only about the values I had, not the particular path I chose. He simply said that he had unlimited confidence in me and that I should follow my dreams.

I was thereby freed of all expectations except to do my best. This was such a blessing for me that it was natural for me to behave similarly with my own children. In this aspect of child raisingas well as virtually all othersSusie Sr. and I were totally in sync.

Our Its your life message produced one particularly interesting outcome: none of our three children completed college, though each certainly had the intellect to do so. Neither Susie Sr. nor I were at all bothered by this. Besides, as I often joke, if the three combine their college credits, they would be entitled to one degree that they could rotate among themselves.

I dont believe that leaving college early has hindered the three in any way. They, like every Omaha Buffett from my grandfather to my great-grandchildren, attended public grammar and high schools. In fact, almost all of these family members, including our three children, went to the same inner-city, long-integrated high school, where they mixed daily with classmates from every economic and social background. In those years, they may have learned more about the world they live in than have many individuals with postgrad educations.

Howie started by zigzagging through life, looking for what would productively harness his boundless energy. In this book, he tells of how he found his path and the incredible journeys that resulted from his discovery. Its a remarkable tale, told exactly as it happened. As Howie describes his activitiessome successful, others notthey supply a guidebook for intelligent philanthropy.

Howies love of farming makes his work particularly helpful to the millions of abject poor whose only hope is the soil. His fearlessness has meanwhile exposed him to an array of experiences more common to adventurers than philanthropists. Call him the Indiana Jones of his field.

Its Howies story to tell. I want, however, to add my own tribute to the two women who made him what he is today: a man working with passion, energy, and intelligence to better the lives of those less fortunate. It began with his remarkable mother. Fortunately, the genes from her side were dominant in shaping Howie.

Anyone who knew Susie Sr. would understand why I say this. Simply put, she had more genuine concern for others than anyone Ive ever known. Every person she metrich or poor, black or white, old or youngimmediately sensed that she saw him or her simply as a human being, equal in value to any other on the planet.

Without in any way being a Pollyanna, or giving up enjoyment in her own life, Susie connected with a multitude of diverse people in ways that changed their lives. No one can match the touch she had, but Howie comes close. And he is on a par with her in terms of heart.

Howie nevertheless needed Devon, his wife of thirty-one years, to center him. And that need continues. Much as Susie provided the love that enabled me to find myself, Devon nurtures Howie. Both he and I were not the easiest humans to deal with daily and up close; each of us can pursue our interests with an intensity that leaves us oblivious to what is going on around us. But both of us were also incredibly lucky in finding extraordinary women who loved us enough to eventually soften our rough edges.