Wishing everyone a happy belated Thanksgiving. Day started with 4-mile run, visit with family, a light dinner and some football. Couldn’t ask for a better day.

God’s best to my brothers downrange. Gator Six remains on point.

Reading a book to your son and One On The Way. It’s a simple pleasure, and they both enjoyed it so much the first time that I was asked to read it again. Kids, both born and unborn, are amazing.

Went on a baby stock recon this Saturday. I did not realize baby things had become so expensive. I commented to the missus that this must be a racket, a true mob conspiracy. Why should they charge such outrageous prices for the simplest of baby needs: diapers, strollers, cribs. C’mon…

I’m glad we kept a lot of things from when the kids were born. Albeit aged, we bought things would would stay in style, were unisex and universal. That’ll make putting together the little girls’ room a simple task.

But I guess I’ll have to burn some stock if I’m gonna get the missus that rocking chair.

Getting back into writing mode again. It’s been a busy time in the household. Working on something. Much more to tell later.

April 14th. Afternoon. Gray skies dominate the day as I peer out the window of my home office. The chatter of colleagues fills my headset. Another conference call. Blah, blah, blah…

The television is filled with soldiers.

I mute the line and turn up the volume on the tube. The commanding general of the 30th Brigade Combat Team is announced. Reflexively, I snap to attention.

“Why did I do that?” I ask.

I move to stand at ease and listen to his impassioned words. The 30th BCT, my old unit, is headed downrange again. Headed back to the sandbox for another tour in Iraq.

I’m proud of them, all of them. There are friends still there, too. And as they are bid farewell by a fellow soldier singing “God Bless the USA,” I can’t help but tear up. These are my boys, and in heart, mind and spirit, I, too, go with them.

I look to my hand and my brigade patch sits. “How did that get there?” I ask myself. And as the faint smell of Diesel and Kordite fills my nostrils, I snapped back to my reality, my present of conference call boredom.

But the moment, as are all my military remembrances, was precious.

God speed, soldiers of the 30th. Gator Six stands watch until you return. HUAH!

May 11, 1991.

I hear the words and repeat them. My stomach twists and turns faster than a roller coaster. I know I’m sweating. I’m nervous, excited. Is this what happens when a dream comes true? I ask myself. “So help me God,” erupts from me in cracked voice. My dream is realized and the mantle of leadership is given me. I receive my first salute as Second Lieutenant from a mentor, an Army Special Forces Master Sergeant. My first coin? A gift from yet another mentor, and old Ranger Command Sergeant Major with 18th Airborne Corps. My first wisdom after hugs and well wishes from mom and dad? It came from my yet another mentor, then a Ranger Captain who told me in simple words, “Mac, don’t f**k up.”

I look at my gold bar on my hat, then turn my gaze skyward and whisper, “funny how God works.”

February 27, 2009.

I accepted my new challenge: Partner Business Manager, Service Provider Channel. My mission: lead our engagement with two global service providers: AT&T and Verizon. My stomach turns flips again, my head sweats and the words resonate deep within me. “We’re asking Mike McPherson to lead this effort for the organization.” I’m nervous, excited, scared, focused. Congratulations and well wishes stream in via phone and email. The day is done and I am spent from the emotional roller coaster. My wife hugs me, tells me she knew my time would come even when I didn’t think it would ever happen here. I call my mom, dad and brother and tell them the news. Dad’s excited. “You always said you’d make me proud, son,” he says. Mom gives God the glory. My brother tells me, “Mike, don’t f***k it up.”

I lay my head on the pillow and just before I welcome sleep, I whisper a silent prayer of thanks. “Funny how God works,” trail from my lips as sleep greets me.

My life in many ways has paralleled biblical story of Joseph. In many ways, in every case, every tribulation has emerged a seed of greater benefit. And in this most recent promotion, I find the path that is my life yet again changed for the better. I reflect on the journey that was my rise to leadership in the US Army. The hard work, the focus, the determination. The days in scouting and ROTC. The lessons learned, each preparing me for the mantle of leadership. Like Joseph, there were times I sat in the wilderness, wondering why I was doing this, why this was happening. There were days I wanted to quit, just walk away and try something new. Yet something, someone, kept me in place, preparing me for that day. And in this moment as I reflect on the challenge bestowed upon me, I see the path traveled to get here. The challenges faced and accomplished. There were days I wanted to leave, simply move on and make my way in greener pasture. Yet something, someone, kept me here, prepared me for this moment. I shake my head, not in shame, but in thanks for the unseen and Divine hand that has guided my life.

Now I prepare myself for the new chapter that is happening. I believe I am ready. My stomach flips. I’m nervous, excited, focused.

Thankful.

Yes, it’s funny…and wonderful…how God works.

I just returned from a wonderful Superbowl weekend in Tunica, MS. While there I and several of my family members did our part in contribution to the local Mississippi economy.

Nothing like living in a state where one key economic stimilus is a hopeful pull on the one-armed bandit. JACKPOT! NOT!!!

I think every golfer, no, everyone, should watch this show coming to Golf Channel in February.

http://www.thegolfchannel.com/core.aspx?page=26000&select2=11262

Thanks to those who have gone before, endured tremendous hardship and oppression, so that I can countless others like me, can play this wonderful game…unafraid.

My dear friend, Cove Rebel, reminded me that Colin Powell was indded a 4-star and not a 5-star general. I stand corrected. I had forgotten. And for a former military man, this is an aggregious error.

And we drive on…

“Oh, happy day…”

These are the words of a profound hymnal, the beautiful song that comes to mind as I pause to take in the final preparations, the final hours before the inauguration of the 44th President of the United States.

“Oh happy day…”

It’s the groundswell of emotion emanating from the thousands gathering in D.C.. It is the purity of the moment that channels into my being from the millions watching from home and around the world. We all are witnessing, experiencing, LIVING history.  Today, the world will witness the truth of America and the american dream as we install into office or first African American president.

It’s this same reality and emotion that engulf my mom and dad. Their experience leading to this moment sums up the true significance of this day. Dad, born and raised in New York, lived the challenges our people encountered in the struggle for equality. He saw the battles from Harlem to the Bronx, from Brooklyn to Staten Island. In the quietness of years removed from those heady days, he recalled many events to me. I shudder still at the thought of them.

Mom is a child of the deep South. Growing up in rural Mississippi, my mom experienced the full proof of oppression. Besides the separation on buses and in diners, her imprint from the experience comes from the water fountains. One meant for her and her people, one meant for whites. She remembered the places she could/could not go. And even after migrating to Chicago in the late 60’s, she recalled many other events that challenged the very essence of every African American.

Both agree, as do many African-Americans in their age bracket, they thought they would never see this day. And in many ways given the state of our country, I, too, thought I would never witness such things. But there were signs that change was coming.

Tiger Woods winning The Masters…

Oprah Winfrey rising to media mogul status…

Guion S. Bluford, Jr., becoming the first African-American in space…

African-Americans Ken Chenault, Ron Parsons and E. Stanley O’Neal  running prestigious corporations like American Express, AOL and Merrill Lynch…

Colin Powell becoming the first African-American 5-star general, then first African-American Secretary of State…

Dr. Condelezza Rice becoming the first female African-American Secretary of State… 

Countless achievements by my people, all paving the way for this day, this time, this moment.

And here we are, a scant few hours away from witnessing what my parents only dreamed would happen. The emotions are overwhelming. The significance, compelling. The pride, ever-present. The hope, inspiring. The dream, the full anthem, one step closer to reality.

Dad’s voice quivers as he intones his deepest wisdom on this special moment in history. I will not write them here. They are observations and advice meant for sharing between father and son. But the message, the mission, remains clear regardless of race, creed, gender or financial standing. It is a mantra they preached to my brother and me since we were kids. It is a belief that transcends the prescience of the moment but remains true: hard work pays off.

Mom chants the words of the hymn again. “Oh happy day…oh happy day…” Her misty eyes connect with mine and I know her thoughts immediately.

Indeed it is a happy day. I shed tears of pride both for the significance of the moment and for the fact that my parents are alive to witness and experience it in it’s full majesty.

Lift every voice and sing
Till earth and heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise
High as the listening skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us,
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun
Let us march on till victory is won.

- James Weldon Johnson, “The Negro National Anthem”

The dream continues.