Most of you are probably familiar with "Forrest Gump," the story of a simple man who changes people's lives — and history — through a series of chance encounters and weird coincidences. At the end of the movie version, Forrest delivers a touching soliloquy to his dead wife at her gravesite.
"I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floatin' around, accidental-like, on a breeze," he says. "I think maybe it's both . . . both happening at the same time."
That thought occurred to me last week at a memorial service for my old boss who passed away in January at the age of 86. Ken Hieronymus was a co-founder of Kenrick Advertising, which was quite a thriving and exciting place to work in the 1980s. Even though I spent a lot of time with him during my years at the company, there were many interesting facts about Ken's life which I hadn't heard until his son delivered a eulogy.
Like so many men his age, Ken had served in World War II. He was in the Navy and became a radio operator. Maybe I'm assuming too much based on the facts I heard, but apparently that training led to other radio work after the war, which led to advertising opportunities, which eventually led to St. Louis. Ken moved here to work for the old Gardner Advertising downtown, and then later started his own ad agency in Clayton.
At its height, Kenrick and its affiliated companies employed about 150 people. That in itself is a great success story. But as I looked around the crowded room at Ken's memorial and saw many of my old friends and co-workers, it struck me to think of all the lives which had been changed by the timing and serendipity of Ken's career decisions.
Those changes were especially profound in my case. I had been happily working somewhere else in 1983 when a friend recruited me to interview at Kenrick; I wasn't really interested in changing jobs, but they made me an offer I couldn't refuse — a monetary one, fortunately, not the Corleone variety.
Kenrick's generous bump in salary enabled me to buy my first house (at 14 percent interest) which is where I was living when I met my future wife after her car broke down nearby. If I hadn't made those moves and been in those places, my family wouldn't exist today.
It's part destiny, part accidental-like, both happening at the same time.
What's the old adage about "for want of a nail, the battle was lost"? You know: the missing nail cost the horseshoe, which felled the rider, yada, yada. That story — which has been around for hundreds of years and may have been developed as motivation for blacksmiths — is still used to illustrate how one little event or circumstance can trigger a cascade of larger and more significant consequences.
Concepts such as the Butterfly Effect, predestination, chaos theory, astrology, Murphy's Law and many others can try to explain or rationalize why things happen the way they do, but who knows? Some people win lotteries, some get innocently caught in the cross fire of drive-by shootings. Go figure.
If you're expecting me to add some insightful thought or enlightened interpretation at this point about the meaning of life, please don't be too disappointed. I ain't that smart. Was there a message to the tale of Forrest Gump? Perhaps the moral is that we should just do our best with whatever life throws at us, and try to make the most of the people and challenges we encounter along the way.
Maybe the secret is to accept that we're ultimately under the control of a higher power, and that things will all work out somehow. If you're lucky enough to have a healthy, comfortable life surrounded by loved ones, count your blessings. Pay it forward. Just remember that whatever you do will affect somebody else. We're ripples in a chess game.
As for Ken, the story of Kenrick Advertising didn't exactly have a happy ending. He and his partners sold the business, but within a year it had disintegrated under the new ownership. A lot of lives were messed up as a result. I later heard that Ken had to come out of retirement for a while because the buyer's financing tanked, or something. It was all very sad.
I hadn't actually seen Ken for many years before he passed away, but I sincerely hope he was able to enjoy his post-career life. I also hope he finds some great golfing in Heaven.
Steve Unger has been professionally writing for 30-plus years to help companies sell stuff. His Journal columns are a labor of love to salute the people, places and charm of St. Louis. If you'd like to share a memory of St. Louis or just drop him a line, he can be reached at stevethewordguy@aol.com.
