What happened next is so unbelievable that I know you’ll think it’s the creation of a youthful imagination, but I promise you it’s true. Minutes later, three big Cadillacs, the front one pink and the two behind white, came screeching up in front of the stands. Seven enormous men got out slowly while the driver of the lead Caddy came charging out at the two hot dog men, screaming, “Who insulted my mother?” The hot dog seller’s son looked plenty scared. “Johnny,” he said, “I swear I didn’t know she was your mother.” The old lady’s son started pummeling and kicking the younger man. Two of the other guys tried to hold Johnny back, saying, “Calm down, Johnny. You don’t want to kill him.” The father, in the meantime, was trying to throw himself in the middle to protect his son, while Johnny was screaming, “You don’t teach your son no respect, I will.”

Johnny finally calmed down and told my competitors that if they ever brought their stand anywhere near here again, that would be the last day they ever sold hot dogs. He then calmly opened his trunk, took out a baseball bat, and smashed the chromium stand about eight or nine times, terrifying everyone until he told them to leave. They did, and I never had another competitor again.

When it was all over, Johnny and his associates came over to my stand and started laughing and ordering hot dogs like nothing had happened and they hadn’t eaten for days. I, of course, just assumed that the hot dogs were on the house for services rendered. Johnny, however, not only insisted on paying, but gave me a twenty-dollar tip as well. When I tried to refuse, he told me it was for the flowers, and anyway, he said, “anyone who is a friend of my mother is a friend of mine, and I don’t take no money from friends. You hear? By the way, kid, these are great onions. I might be back.” And with that they jumped into their Caddies and roared off.

Why exactly had I originally become friends with the old lady? Part of it surely was I needed the ice, and wanted to ensure my supply. But another part of it was I felt empathy with the old couple. As I sat across the street watching them get out of their old car to clean the bar every Sunday morning I could imagine myself in their shoes. They sure didn’t seem rich and their lives didn’t seem to be filled with great accomplishment. Clearly, it wasn’t easy getting up early in the morning, especially at that age, to clean out a bar. But they weren’t depending on anyone else. They were working hard and doing the best they could. That made me admire and respect them. Everyone gets dealt a different hand in life. You have to do the best with the hand you’re dealt, and keep yourself in the game creatively.

At fourteen, of course, I had visions of glory dancing in my head. I would go from a hot dog stand to a fast-growing company, and who knew from there—maybe President of the United States! Hot dogs and flowers were just a first step. But even at fourteen I had a sense that things in my life might not always work out the way I expected. Many things can go wrong unexpectedly along the way—illness, business setbacks, bankruptcy, disgrace, war, prison. You just never know.