John Hope Bryant (13:35)
So dad was slick. He was smooth, right? He was a smooth talker and. But my dad didn't know what he didn't know. So when my dad was going to go talk to get money, he'd go. He thought the bank was the branch like he thought that bank of America or Wells Fargo. He thought that entire bank was representative of this branch and he knew the branch manager. And when he was going to write a check that wouldn't cover that couldn't be covered money in the bank. He thought his real credibility was going out of the bank. He. His time was less valuable than, you know, other things. My time is the most valuable thing I have. You give me a choice today between more time and more money. As they give me more time, I'll make more money. But my dad value other things. So he would go down to the bank several times a week to let the branch manager know that he would not be, you know, he needed him to cover this check. And this is what we did in the community. This is what he did in the community was a common, common situation. Floating checks, some of you listening who are old enough to know what I'm talking about, understand floating checks was a common situation. And that banker, as long as my dad knew the branch manager, it was the personal credibility he had with that banker that allowed him to feel that he had basically a line of credit. He didn't because he had bank fees. Every time he did that, they hit him with a bank fee over his head. But my dad valued respect over everything. So if a mortgage broker showed up in my neighborhood as an example, who was polite and talked and gave my dad respect and consideration and asked him about his family and complimented him on how he was dressing and all this stuff, but he was. But what he had to offer, offer for refinance for the house was a brokered, meaning didn't go directly to the financial source. It was through a financial broker which added an additional fee. It was a broker transaction that was, let's say, 15% interest and 15 points, meaning 1%, 2%, 3%, 15% of the loan amount. Right? 15 points, 15% interest. You know, some of these loans were 20 points, 20% interest. Once you got, once you got loan, you got the loan, you went blind. 20, 20 went to 00. But this was common in our neighborhood. Hard. So my, my dad would take that loan because the guy was nice to him. Look, but if somebody came along, was rude to my dad, but had a 3% mortgage, he would send that guy packing. Hey, I'm just the opposite, right? You can curse me out, you can say everything you want. You can say you're first cousin of James Felon from Aberdeen, Mississippi, and your great great grandfather was part of the confederacy. But if you got 3% money, I'm taking it. Not one ounce of my self esteem and self worth depends on your acceptance of me. It's okay if you don't like me. I like me. Right. Or you respect me and learn to like me, then like me and never respect me. So I went out emotional about money. I'm not emotional about business. Business is just business. But my dad, you know, respect went a long way with my dad. I'll come back to why that's so important in a moment. So my dad was, you know, in many ways, not only just a community success story. He was a bit of the, you know, original freedom fighter in our family because he served as a deacon on the board of the church. It was a Mount Calvary Missionary Baptist Church. I can't remember the reverend's name. It's probably good, but his whole family, you know, owned the church. I mean, literally owned the building. And it was only like 40 members. And the pastor was driven up in a limousine. The limousine was longer than the church was wide. And my dad was a deacon in the church. And my dad wasn't really feeling all this stuff that the family, the pastor and his family were doing. But he was committed to the gospel, committed to God. But when he discovered that there was fraud going on with the pastor, he approached him in church. And the son of the. Now my dad, dad was a big guy. He was a construction guy. He owned a construction cement masonry company. Johnny Cement work. He's a big guy. But, you know, he was an older guy, he was shorter, stocky. And the son of the pastor was big and tall. And he clocked my dad to keep my dad from spilling the beans on the malfeasance going on in the church. He hit my dad and I believe knocked him out. And that wasn't the, that wasn't the last time because my dad wouldn't give up. He wouldn't give up, wouldn't give in. He was like, no, this is unethical, this is illegal. You can't do this in the house of Lord. So he, he was going to file formal charges. And he was at a construction site and this son showed up to the construction site. They had a fight. My dad had built, dug a hole, a construction hole for something. And the guy ended up actually pushing my dad in that hole and filling that hole up with sand up to my dad's neck. He was trying to kill my father. And luckily, authorities and people interceded. But by the grace of God, that moment could have been my dad's last. But he just wouldn't give up or wouldn't give in. He fought for justice, and not just us. And he and my mother ultimately built a little conglomerate, a little empire in South Central la. They owned their own home on Santa Barbara Boulevard is now Martin the King Boulevard, west of western, south side of the street. They owned an eight unit apartment building they owned which they bought for $18,000. I believe it would be worth several million dollars today. We owned a gas station at Vernon in Normandy, I believe, southeast corner. We owned a decimic contracting business. We owned a nursery business which my mother ran. And I was the first client. My mother pimped me. I mean, I mean, leverage me as a client to get other clients. I was the marketing agent. Like, look how well I'm treating my son. You need to come and Be a client too. It was all good. It's fine. My mother, My mother was brilliant at managing money and building as my dad was Mr. Outside, she was Ms. Inside. In a relationship is the only time the Math shouldn't work. 2 +2 should equal more than 4. The 2 +2 does not meet equal 6, 8 or 10. What are you doing? Right. If you're not better together, what are you doing? So we own all this stuff. But when my dad was financially illiterate, right? So my dad didn't understand money. He thought that cash flow was everything. So he'd go bid on a job. And so my dad wasn't dumb, he wasn't stupid. He was really, really smart. But no one taught us financial literacy. The Freedmen's bank failed. And that's what's supposed to teach free formerly enslaved people about money and free enterprise and capitalism, economics and opportunity. And we never got that memo. That's one of my books, the memo. Read it. Progressive capitalism. Read that for nothing. Read that. And. And so he just didn't know what he didn't know, but he thought he knew. It's what we don't know that we don't know this killing us, but we think we know. And so my dad confused cash flow with profit. And so somebody would go bid a job before him for laying a cement driveway, they bid, let's say, $1,000. $1,000 today would be a bargain for any kind of driveway. But it was $1,000 back then. And my dad would just go in and bid under them. $900. Well, the materials might be 925, might be 950 with the materials and labor, who knows? My dad just would take a scratch pad and sort of scratch some stuff out, but he'd miss some stuff. But he got the job, right? So the more money he made, the broker we got, he make a dollar and spend A$50. He thought again, cash flow is profit. Hello, Wrong. And so he started missing payments on the mortgages and missing payments on. I remember my dad met people asked me sometimes, why is it that I'm not racist? Like, why is it that I'm so comfortable with different races of people? And I would say that it doesn't matter whether you're white, black, red, brown or yellow. We just all want some more green, as in the color, at least in the US of US Currency. Because the front door of my house on Martin Luther King Boulevard, before that Santa Barbara was the payroll center. My dad would open that door on Fridays at 5:00 and meet payroll. And the workers were white, they were black, they were Hispanic, they were Indian workers, Native American Indian. They all worked for my dad as. As day laborers. And. And some of them were, you know, had worked for my dad four years. And every Friday, no matter what, he met a payroll. Now, he might have. He wasn't. He didn't think he was broke. He had cash left over at. On Friday night to go out to the juke joint or wherever and hang out, buy some clothes. But he might not have enough money for the mortgage payment or the car note or whatever. Right. But he had enough money that moment. And so he thought he was rich. And he. And we were actually broke. But. But I had this comfort with race because at an early age, not only did I see bankers in my classroom and teachers who happened to be Caucasian, and we got a loan. They were decent to me, thank Go versus my friends growing up who had this experience of white people who would throw them against a patrol car and pat them down or worse. And so they became resentful of white people. That wasn't, thank God, my experience. And then I had also this experience of seeing my dad in a superior business position. Not superior as a human being, superior as in the pecking order of the relationship to these other people who happened to be of other races as he was meeting payroll. And so I. I just remembered that very powerfully in my. In my mind, and I was like, shoot, I want to. I want to. I want to write the check. I don't want to cash it, right? I want to be the business owner, right? And I. And I. And my dad used to force me to go to jobs with him, cement contracting jobs. And I mean, I remember, I used to. I hated that. Oh, I hated this. This was, this. This is probably why I was like, I know I got to work for myself. I. I used to go to these jobs and it was so hot. And he. My dad. My dad's truck had no air conditioning. And literally, like, my mouth in my face, side of my face would stick to the side of the glass. You know, it was so hot. And I'd go to sleep and I had to peel my face off the glass. He'd stay inside talking to somebody for an hour and a half. You know what? I run in his mouth about something. And I got some, like, gift for gab and love for words from him, I'm sure. And then we'd go get a job. And I'm the boss's son. I wanted to be a supervisor. Nope. So he put me to work with the other workers doing menial labor. And he would mess with me, dig a hole. Then he'd come back two hours later, fill in the hole. I'm like, okay, I'm done. And I had calluses on my hand. And I'm like, no. Only cut I'm gonna get going forward is a. Is a paper cut, right? You know, endorse that check and deposit it in the bank. I'm not doing this for the rest of my life. But that's. That taught me hard work. That taught me that just because you're the boss of sons, you don't. You don't get a pass, right? That everybody's got a hustle. There's an old saying about wealth creation. The first generation makes it, second generation spends it, third generation loose, right? Well, we didn't. We didn't get to three generations because my dad made it but couldn't keep it because he was financially literate and because he didn't see my mother as a partner with him, he just saw her as his mate. And so she was a financial genius on savings. Please listen to the podcast I did, just dedicated to her. I'll get it into her story. And, you know, he could have made it, kicked it over to her. She could have saved it, invested it, you know, grew it, and it would have been a fantastic union. But that's not what happened. And, you know, the number one cause for divorce in America is money. Number one reason for domestic abuse in households, it's money. Number one reason for heart attacks is stress. Number one reason for stress is money. And my mom and dad stressed over money, and they broke up over money. And we lost everything. We lost our generational wealth.