The Gospel In the Book of John D. (PBPost-Times) 3-9-75----------------
77.
Palm Bc!ach
Post -Times.
SUNDAY, MARCH 9, 1975
... Mal ......
`It's MY
.Birth Month,
Sell. More!'
By RAYMOND MARIOTTI
Editor of The Post
There is a tall, solitary pine tree right off the
18th green of the PGA Country Club in Palm
Beach Gardens. It probably never snagged a Jack
Nicklaus approach shot. And as a shade tree, it
would make a better hat rack.
But on this blazing summer day, with the sun
almost directly overhead, about 40 people are
knotted under the pine grabbing snatches of shade
and fanning it in their faces.
The short -sleeved gallery leaves the shelter
and gathers around the green as a rather unlikely
threesome plays through. There is a bride and a
bridegroom and a young Baptist minister. The be-
trothed are in the sportswriting business, so why
not a wedding with a sports motif? Response to
the invitations is exceptional: the friends and the
curious. Among them, off to the side, chain-smok-
ing through a trim mustache, is a slightly built,
slightly bent spectator who just came to see the
show.
"Dearly beloved," intones the minister, "we
are gathered here today in this sanctuary built by
God . . , "
Off to the side, John D. MacArthur grins. He
is almost embarrassed.
John D. M-�.e,,Arthur was not born on Dec. 25,
f.49. it
although he was responsible for that day's wed-
jing ch,ppol now JD114 radflor thax-i �he
PGA. Mr. Mac was born on March 6 and last
Thursday was his 78th. He prefers to say he is
beginning his 79th year because that puts him
closer to his personal goal of 80. After that, "You,
sir, are authorized to write my official obituary."
It would be too long a wait. Obituary writers are
.q,L; frail as their subjects.
Mr Mac almost died five years ago of stom-
ach cancer. Dr. Don Warren and others had just
about given up hope. Mr. Mac tells of the terror
of fighting sleep in fear he would never awaken.
Semi-conscious, he fought sedation. "I realized I
had so much to do. I hadn't prepared properly.
What would happen to the company? It would go
down the drain to pay the taxes. I asked for one
more year to straighten things out." When morn-
ing came to Good Sam Hospital, Mr. Mac bel-
lowed, "Get me my lawyer!"
Mr. Mac got his year, and at least four more,
from whomever he asked. He has outlived that
golf course marriage and he may challenge the
pine tree. He's put together a board of trustees to
see to the survival of the company, in case its
only stockholder turns out to be human.
The company is Bankers Life and Casualty
Co. Primarily, it sells insurance, prodigious
amounts of it, abetted by the golden -voiced per-
suasions of conservative newscaster Paul Harvey.
But it is much, much more. It is a massive
investor in other kinds of business. Through Bank-
ers, its subsidiaries, and other directly owned
corporations, John D, MacArthur is one of the
richest men in the world. He owns vast amounts
of real estate. He's in banking, utilities, mort-
gages, housing, hotels, cattle raising and well
drilling. He even owns a distillery that makes
John D. MacArthur bourbon.
He's a billionaire, a word he doesn't like very
much. "I'd have to sell everything I own to find
out what I'm worth, and I'm not about to do that.
As H.L. Hunt once said, `Anybody who knows
what they are worth isn't worth very much.' Land
is only worth what you get for it."
Hunt attended Mr. Mac's birthday party in
Chicago a year ago, a splashy formal affair with
a cast of hundreds. But death came for Hunt be-
fore the more informal affair last Saturday in the
Conrad Hilton ballroom. Mr. Mac made this
year's arrangements and he insisted he would be
dressing casually.
There is a striking similarity in the habits of
the two tycoons. Hunt, reportedly even more
wealthy than MacArthur, routinely took his lunch
to work in a brown bag. Mr. Mac's supper usually
is confined to liquids, preferably strong ones, but
if he feels like snacking he'll share the peanut
butter and crackers, or sliced Kraft cheese, with
the guest fortunate enough to have been invited to
his apartment in the Colonnades.
There isn't much impressive about the apart-
ment except a large collection of chess pieces,
two poodles and Catherine MacArthur, his second
wife, who rarely ventures out. Mrs. MacArthur
was the front office staff for the one-man insur-
ance sales force when MacArthur bought his first
insurance company during the depression around
1930.
Today the MacArthur Insurance Group in-
cludes 13 companies, licensed in all 50 states.
There are 10,000 people on the payroll with more
than 7,500 salesmen. And Mr. Mac takes a per-
sonal hand in motivating them to sell. A month
ago, he explained his role this way:
"I know I have no contract with the Almighty
and the time is growing short. I am calloused to
far as public opinion in concerned, which is evi-
denced by the fact I never hired a public relations
f irm. I built a company from nothing to a very
respectable financial institution in size and per-
formance. Admittedly no one man ever did any-
thing worthwhile by himself even though he leads
the parade and takes the bows. In retrospect I
know my success was brought about by my good
luck and the contribution made by others. It was
luck that caused me to meet and hire great peo-
ple. Their combined efforts, with a bit of guid-
ance from me, did the job.
"In a few weeks I will start my 79th year on
this earth. For the past 40 years my men have
celebrated March by writing more insurance. I
felt like a prostitute but I have always delivered
the body; knowing well that most of our salesmen
double their income during my birth month.
"Pitting one office against another makes
competitors out of more than 90 per cent of our
sales force and generally puts twice as much
money in their pockets. I will be in Chicago
March 1, and then go on to Denver, `Frisco, Los
Angeles and Dallas before I return. If I feel equal
to it, I will make a second trip through the East.
I hope to see at least 60 per cent of the sales-
men."
A year or so ago, a similar sort of conversa-
tion first made me wonder what moved this man.
How did he see the world and how did he see
himself? Was it not the height of conceit to think
salesmen were moved by anything more than his
signature on a commission check? He was plan-
ning a "tour" at the time, to end up at a Bankers
Life convention in Las Vegas. "Take me with
you," I suggested. His reply was: "A newspaper-
man! With me? In Vegas? You've got to be kid-
ding."
Early the following Sunday morning, my
home phone rang. The conversation (Mr. Mac
arises at 5, I'm dull -brained till noon) went some-
thing like this:
"This is John D. MacArthur. I'm surprised
you'd have a listed number."
"Yes sir."
"Okay, smart ass, were you serious when you
said you'd like to go to Vegas with me?"
"Yes sir."
"We'll be leaving at 7:30 Tuesday morning
and returning Friday but you can come back
when you feel like it. I'll get you an open ticket."
"Ticket?"
"Yes, they require tickets on commercial air-
planes."
"Oh, we're going commercial."
"Of course. Is it all right with you if I make
the arrangements? It has been my observation
that the back part of the plane gets there almost
as fast as the front part."
"Huh?"
"I mean, if you have no objections we'll be
flying tourist class."
"Fine, that is, presuming I can reimburse you
for my expenses."
"Well, I'm inviting you to be my guest but if
that would offend your keen sense of morality or
make you feel like you were taking a bribe, then
by all means, feel free to give me your money."
"It's company policy."
"Fine. Then I'll see your smart ass early
Tuesday. Goodby."
Mr. Mac's capacity for overwhelming victims
early in the morning is exceeded only by his ca-
pacity to overwhelm them early in the evening by
drinking them under the table.
He showed up Tuesday with his young hotel
manager, Lopez, in tow. Lopez was carrying
what looked to be an oversized lunchbox, scarred
and metallic. It contained Mr. Mac's extra shirt
and socks, a piece of luggage obviously designed
to last.
Mr. Mac was in uniform, a Scotch plaid
blazer that is dominated by green where we usu-
ally think of red on Scotch plaid. There is some
In MacArthur Blazer He Addresses Bankers Life Convention
6 . . photo from "A Whole New Life" brochure about 1974 sales meetings
Mr. Mac
---From lll
ner
think-positive aura surrounding the people and
a reverence toward the man. They talk with pride
about what he has given them to sell. And if they
are brainwashed, then MacArthur ought to mar-
ket the technique.
The salesmanship may have been an inherent
gif t, but it took more than that to get him where
he is. There are some suggestions contained in a
MacArthur biography called "The Stockholder"
that are less than flattering. MacArthur dislikes
the book and describes it as unauthorized. The
author depicts some uncomplimentary relation-
ships between Mr. Mac and his family, which
MacArthur insists are untrue. Indeed, it is diffi-
cult to imagine how the author may have gotten
quotes of Mr. Mac's whisperings to his wife on
their wedding night.
MacArthur prefers not to discuss his first
wife and their two children beyond saying they
are adequately provided for. He more willingly
Will talk about his special relationship with his
brother Charles, the playwright and Ben Hecht's
collaborator on the popular play, "The Front
Page." Mr. Mac regularly participates in func-
tions called to honor Charles' widow, screen star
Helen Hayes.
He always has had a. special relationship, with
entertainment personalities. He has the Bob Hope
suite at the Colonnades, built as an inducement to
get the comedian to participate in the dedication
of a golf course. He prizes a gag photo of him
serving breakfast in bed to a ruffled Hope.
He has an ill-defined, but close personal rela-
tionship with Burt Reynolds. He was best man at
the wedding of TV interviewer Mike Wallace.
Morton Downey is a close friend. Yet his one at-
tempt in the business, producing a Broadway
play, flopped. It made him believe "it's a tough
way to make a buck."
Insurance was easier. In "The Stockholder,"
it is suggested that it was easy because MacAr-
thur's company didn't pay its claims. Competitors
are quoted as saving that he was a blot on the
industry.
The charges make him furious, "They'd put
me in jail if I didn't pay my claims. It's a very
regulated industry. Catherine and I did it through
hustle and hard work and the good idea of mail
order selling, which went over far better than
any one would expect." Mr. Mac says his fledgling
companies, which he bought for no more than the
priceof a new car today, were under constant
scrutiny:
"As you would suspect, there were a number
of cliffhanging situations. On a number of occa-
sions I was given up for gone by many, including
some of my intimate associates. However, others
encouraged me, including Ed Day.
"At that time Day was a member of Adlai
Stevenson's law firm and the governor appointed
him insurance commissioner. I was the biggest
problem confronting him when he took office.
Bankers Life of Des Moines, Iowa, had induced
their commissioner to cancel our Iowa license
without a hearing. Day had been officially noti-
fied of their action and given a copy of the
trumped-up charges.
"He summoned me to his office before he had
time to get his chair warm. We spent the best
part of three days together talking about my
problem. He solicited my advice as to what he, as
director of insurance of our home state, should
do. My advice was to call a hearing, invite every
commissioner from every state to attend and
bring their files. I �.lso suggested he send an invi-
tation to the insurance press and the leading
newspaper in every capital city.
"Day was shocked that I was willing to ex-
pose my company's activities to the world and he
questioned his authority to invite out-of-state
commissioners. I convinced him there was noth-
ing as vicious as entrenched business and that the
entire problem has been created by some old es-
tablished insurance companies who resented my
doing more business in their state than they were.
About 40 per cent of the country's insurance com-
missioners accepted the invitation, and it took the
ballroom of the Bismarck Hotel to accommodate
the crowd.
"The hearing lasted a week. Ed Day made his
finding of not guilty and gave all other commis-
sioners an opportunity to justify their findings.
Robinson from Ohio was the only commissioner
who cast a negative vote. My nationwide image
immediately improved. All of my companies are
now in good standing with the regulating officials
today.
" During this trying experience a handful of
people gave me encouragement. The vast major-
ity disagreed, including my own lawyer who re-
fused to represent me on the basis that only those
commissioners opposed to me would accept the
invitation and my own commissioner was a fresh-
man and would be overwhelmed by the others.
The die was cast and I thought if the deal was
called off it would be the equivalent of pleading
guilty. However, I was able to find a new lawyer
who agreed with my strategy and my luck pre-
vailed again.
"In retrospect, every 'crisis' I encountered,
the arrangements were in charge of my Fairy
Godmother. But by the grace of her, I would be
on relief today,
"Admittedly now there are thousands of peo-
ple dependent upon me for their weekly paycheck.
I am no genius and at least a dozen times in my
lif e if I had gone east instead of west the show
would have been stranded in Podunkville.
"The only reason I own 100 per cent of the
stock of my 'empire' is that no one with $100
would invest in an impossible undertaking. My
own brother spent hundreds of hours giving me
valid reasons why I had attempted an impossibil-
significance in the color. "I have them tailored
exclusively for the sales leader who marched for
me." On a crest is the Latin inscription meaning
"Fidelity and Hard Work." In other words, sell
insurance and win a garish blazer. But it was
astounding as the week wore on to see the pride
that hundreds of full-grown men took in wearing
the MacArthur blazer. It9s something like the
Army's airborne insignia or the high schoolerys
monogram sweater or the buckeye decals on Ohio
State's football helmets. "I marched for MacAr-
thur and sold hell out of that insurance. Lookee
There was another green blazer oil the plane.
It belonged to Dick Williams, who had quit Oak-
land's Charlie Finley after winning a second
World Series baseball championship. Williams
hadn't sold insurance but he had been hired for
various MacArthur promotional endeavors,
mostly intra -company.
Williams' job on this trip would be to auto-
graph everything from baseballs to bar napkins
and deliver little inspirational messages like
"keep in there pitching." Beyond that he was
having a rare holiday with wife Norma and exhib-
iting exceptional skill at the blackjack tables.
Williams shows a deep respect for his Singer Is-
land neighbor and clearly the feeling is mutual.
There is some magic in the MacArthur personal-
ity that wins him fierce loyalty and attracts
strangers easily. He would have made a good in-
surance salesman.
As the plane taxis
�urw�o - --''-~e stewardess. '---- When Mc Mac stepped off the plane in the
seat belts, please." Mr. Mae grumbles about gov- 100 -degree noontime heat of Las Vegas, he
ernment regulation. "All these things do is run up couldn't see the snow-capped mountains only
the price of a car. I learned to fly in the '20s in miles away. He was surrounded by 12 of the big -
less than 30 minutes and now it takes twice that gest bruisers in Nevada who had been dispatched
long to read the passenger regulations." The to guide him safely through the airport - He'd man -
stewardess returns, "Gotcha, you've got to fas- aged to survive a cross-country trip with one
ten. 9' chicken
~_~__� 5U all UVW
At each stop, the regional bosses led the top
sellers to the great man and he hammed it up
with every one of them, He'd shake hands and
wisecrack and when a woman would be led his
way, which was frequent, he)d announce, "We
don't shake hands with women." And then there'd
be a bear hug and a big kiss. "Arent you a little
old to be pinching fannies?" he was chided later.
"I've never pinched a fanny ill my life," he said.
"However, I've patted my share." If the Vegas
trip is an accurate indicator, shares come in
large doses to John D. MacArthur,
Surely some of those employes were there be-
cause they thought they had to be, sort of like the
civil servants who are mustered to cheer for a
deplaning president. But MacArthur seems to be
more legend than boss in his insurance empire.
The Little Leaguer)s Mickey Mantle. The guy who
got filthy rich by peddling.' policies for peanuts
during the Depression. "A down payment of what
you've got in your pocket and then so much a
month." They may have been induced to come,
but the joy was spontaneous, and they squirmed
to get near enough to be photographed with him.
"Who's paying for all this film?" he groused.
There is a casino in Vegas named Banions
that puts $1 million on display. People stand in
line to have their picture taken with the million
bucks. Maybe it's the same psychological lure
with a billionaire in baggy pants.
"If it will make you happy I'll put it on." The
DC8 points into the sky as Mr. Mae pats the
stewardess plopped down at his side. There's no
reason for her to believe this charmer's assets
include anything more than memories of his rip-
snortin' youth.
Arrangements had been made for Mr. Mae to
deplane at the stopover terminals along the route
to Vegas. The pilot said the Tampa stop would
last 20 minutes, so Mr. Mac and Wiliiams were
the first out the door. What possible kind of pro-
motion could possibly be arranged in a short
Mr. Mae was led into a reserved airport
lounge. As he entered, a mighty roar drowned out
the whining jet engines. "Welcome, Mr. Mac," or
"Hi Skipper" cries rang out. Surely they jest. But
inside, gathered in a semi -circle were about 65
people, many tooting horns and wearing funny
hats and showing the giddy kind of enthusiasm as
a bunch of pre-schoolers at their first birthday
party. And there were a dozen or so of the sacred
green coats .
In New Orleans there were 33 more waiting
at the airport. They brought him a key to the city
and made him an honorary citizen.
In Houston, there were about 75 more, some
of them from as far as the coastal city of Beau-
mont. "Welcome to Greatville" blared one sign.
Some of the banners were 20 feet long.
ity. By all the rules of the game, Bankers Life &
Casualty Co. should have gone down the drain 40
years ago. The only explanation I can offer is
luck."
MacArthur says he had challenged the estab-
lishment and come up a winner. There isn't any-
thing unusual about it. Armed with a battalion of
attorneys, he's the one guy in Palm Beach County
who will spend a lifetime fighting city hall. And
win.
As likely as not, he once owned the property
where the city hall stands, whether it be in Lake
Park or North Palm Beach or Palm Beach Gar-
dens or Carol City in Dade County. After he sells
enough homesites, he ends up in a wrangle over
the sewers, or the water company or some envi-
ronmental matter.
He once told an interviewer for nation's busi-
ness:
"There are some bearded jerks and little old
ladies who call me a despoiler of the environ-
ment. But I believe I have more concern than the
average person. For example, I built Palm Beach
Gardens without knocking one tree down. I moved
the biggest tree ever moved in Florida — they
said that it weighed 80 tons, though I doubt it.
That got quite a little publicity -- a full-page pic-
ture in Life. And it's growing beautifully now. We
nursed it and took its blood pressure every morn-
ing and it came out fine. If I find unusual trees, I
have them moved onto the golf course. A lot of
people don't want a tree anymore and rather than
have them chop it down, I will move it for noth-
ing.
"Many environmentalists today are ob-
structionists and just throw rocks in your path.
They are trying to keep people out of Florida. To
me that is un -Christian. The poor slobs in New
York and New Jersey saved their money, and
bought a little piece of land down here, and now
the obstructionists say they can't use it."
MacArthur believes in using his land. He's
been battling for years over development plans,
including some fill, on Big Munyon Island in the
lake off North Palm Beach. He tells of traveling
to the Four Ambassadors Hotel in Miami one
morning to see Gov. Reubin Askew and -being told
the state would be happy to negotiate if it lost in
court. MacArthur isn't very fond of Askew. If
pushed, Askew might say he finds Mr. Mac's
cussing and drinking a bit hard to take, too.
How does Mr. Mac show his distaste? He sent
Askew a campaign contribution last year. Askew
returned it, saying it was more than a self-im-
posed $300 limit. MacArthur sent another check
for the $300. Why such a contribution from a man
who says he had stayed out of gubernatorial poli-
tics since Blid Dickinson's first try? Who knows?
MacArthur is a close friend and business as-
sociate of former Sen. Jerry Thomas, Askew's de-
feated opponent in 1974. Bankers Life owns a sub-
stantial amount of the banking chain that Thomas
heads. MacArthur gave Thomas his start in the
banking business when he foreclosed on a Lake
Worth bank. So why donate to the Askew cam-
paign, while professing to be independent of the
Thomas campaign? Who knows?
How do thew, political skirmishes and court
battles affect hire locally. Who.: knows? But here
is his assessment.
"Palm Beach County is really just a consoli-
dation of 50 small towns. Locally I have a lousy
image -- 99 per cent of the people who violently
hate me have never met me and don't know any-
one who has ever met me. Many years ago a
county commissioner in a meeting where a dozen
or more people were present said to me, "I know
you are a crook."' I gasped and asked how he
knew it. He replied, No one could honestly make
the amount of money you have.'
I have considered hiring a reliable survey
team to get the opinions of the local people and
then ask them how they formed their opinion. I
have never bothered because I am sure they hate
anyone who has accumulated money.
"As you know, I have never publicized any-
thing I have done for the charities, with the single
exception of the World Cup Golf Championship
and that was publicized by others. I addition to
picking up all the expenses of most of the teams
from the Far East and Europe, I gave the gross
receipts from the tickets to the charities. I
rounded it out to an even $100,000."
MacArthur is a substantial giver to charities,
although he professes otherwise. "Every time I
give somebody something I am besieged by a
thousand others with their hands out. Frankly, I
don't believe you can buy your way into heaven
and prefer not to be known as charitable." He
responded to one recent appeal with the honest
appraisal that his tax benefits were exhausted for
the year.
Mr. Mac professes little concern for his im-
age, but he clearly is concerned. He'll sit for
hours on the carousel at the Colonnades and an-
swer the questions of newsmen.
He loves to tell the old stories. Like the one
about how he bought a World War II surplus B25
that had been used by Gen. Hap Arnold. And then
sold it to Howard Hughes for nearly 10 times
what he paid for it.
Or how he spent $500,000 on a gaudy sign at
his Frontier Hotel on the Vegas Strip. The neon
supposedly was interfering with Hughes' sleep
across the street at the Desert Inn. Hughes sent
an emissary to buy the sign and MacArthur ended
up selling him the whole hotel.
There are some conflicting details about Mr.
Mac's World War I flying exploits but most ac-
counts, agree on his court-martial for going
AWOL. MacArthur had joined the Royal Canadian
Air Force because he was one of the few pilots on
the continent. He was recuperating from an in-
jury (some say he was hurt while stunt flying)
and was given a recruiting assignment.
He went AWOL. He went to New York, met
up with a journalist acquaintance of the female
variety, and time passed. Lt. MacArthur decided
to stow away on a troop ship bound for Europe.
He says he got aboard by sneaking a glance at the
Isar ifest over the shoulder of the man ahead of
him. An armada of ships set sail. An hour later,
the whole fleet stopped. A head count showed
there was one person too many. It could have
been a German spy.
After a futile search, the ships were ordered
back to port. At that point, MacArthur trudged up
to the bridge and reported, "I have found the spy.
It's me."
The teenager was returned to harbor by PT
boat and placed under arrest, to be returned to
Canada to face the court-martial. But his journal-
ist friend heard and wrote a tear-jerker about the
valiant young officer who went AWOL to get to
the war, not run away from it.
MacArthur was acclaimed. Rather than the
stockade, he was dispatched on a tour to help sell
war bonds. They certainly picked quite a sales-
man.
The episode sounds implausible, but so much
about John D. MacArthur is implausible. And un-
predictable.
I decided to use my open ticket to return to
West Palm Beach on the same plane with Mr.
Mac. It would give me another seven hours to
find out what makes him tick. "Yes, sir, the Na-
tional agent told me on the phone. I have two
tourist seats left on that flight."
I reserved one.
I arrived at the airport separately. I checked
with the boarding agent. Yes, there wa4 a reser-
vation for Mr. MacArthur. "FIRST CLASS."
What? How could he do that? Could I switch
mine? "Certainly," said the agent. "It only costs
... "� `Fine, I'll take it."
Mr. Mac and his entourage arrived nearly at
flight time. I told him I'd changed my ticket be-
cause he was stuck in first class. "Not really." he
said, somewhat ominously.
"Thank you, Mr. MacArthur," the agent was
telling some stranger. I whirled around. The
lightbulb went on. Mr. Mac had walked up to an-
other man, asked how he'd lake to fly first class,
and then traded tickets. "You don't think I'd let
all my people see me up front while I ask them to
ride the back, do you? I'm not better than any-
body else." I rode first; class to Tampa while
John D. MacArthur flew tourist.
Surely there's a lesson in there. There are
lessons in most of what he says and does. Yet he
is almost unfathomable. What pushes him out of
bed at 5 a.m. and keeps him traveling around the
country in the back of airplanes?
"I believe in doing an honest day's work and
always have. How do you tell what is a day's
work? You count your markers. A marker may
just be a $10 bill. But at the end of every day, you
count your markers. And if you have more than
you had yesterday, you've probably done a day's
work."
To be 78, with all those markers, must have
made it a happy birthday for Mr. Mac.
a
John D. as a Royal, Canadian Air Force Pilot
Q
A Roster of Famous Guests
Mr. Mac has always liked to surround (clockwise) Burt Reynolds and Dinah
himself with well-known personalities, and Shore, then Congressman Gerald Ford,
his Colonnades Hotel in Palm 'Beach Helen Hayes (wife of his late brother), an
Shores gives him a place to entertain. A older Helen Hayes with Perry Como, and •
sleep -tousled Bob Hope gets his morning actress Lillian Gish are pictured with
coffee from John D. (upper left), and MacArthur.
IIIIIIII
r
7 =777777��
Staff Artwork by Char Searl
M—Palm Beach Post -Times, Sunday, March 9, 1975
The Pena'Ity
John. D. says a friend once
passed, along these words to him
and he's kept them handy ever
since
In every field of human en-
deavor, he that is first must per-
petually live in the white light of
publicity,
Whether the leadership be
vested in a man or in a manufac-
tured product, emulation and
envy are ever at work. In art, in
literature, in music, in industry,
the reward and the punishment
are always the same. The re-
ward is widespread recognition;
the punishment, fierce denial
and detraction.
Jealousy does not protrude its
forked tongue at the artist who
produces a commonplace paint-
ing. Whatsoever you write, or
paint, or play, or sing, or build
no one will strive to surpass or
slander you unless your work -be
stamped with the seal of genius.
The leader is assailed because
he is a leader, and the effort to
equal him -is merely added proof
of that leadership. Failing to
equal or excel, the follower
seeks to depreciate and to de-
stroy — but only confirms once
more the superiority of that
which he strives to supplant.
There is nothing new in this. It
is as old as the world and as old
as the human passions.
If the leader truly leads, he re-
mains the leader. That which is
n
good or great makes itself
known, no matter how loud the
clamour of denial. That which
deserves to live lives.
—Author unknown