SOME MEN'S LIVES involve more of the present and the future than they do the past. By that I mean that men who are intensely interested in some vision or idea are apt to be racing into the future so fast that they rarely look back. My own life has been so busy, so filled with storm and strife, with so much reaching for the next corner, the next hill, that I'm generally living ahead of myself. I am grateful that God gave me a large, vigorous body, and I am grateful that as a boy the rigors of farm life gave me a rugged constitution. They've allowed me to live the sort of life I have lived and the sort I'll probably go on living. I still work my farm on weekends and that satisfies the muscles and bones of my body. I am not a contemplative man. I think that's something you may already have guessed from reading this book. But I do think about the future and, despite the heartaches and the terrible perils that lie ahead, I do envy the youngsters who are going to live to be part of it.
The first week of every month we set aside for board meetings of our insurance companies and the subsidiaries. Every Wednesday morning of that week, for years now, I have been speaking to the board on a variety of subjects. Someone once referred to