In 1956, I was 7, tall for my age and looked like I was 12.

The prior year I was diagnosed with tuberculosis and most with TB have stunted growth. 😅

Ponder on that for a while. I beat the odds early in life.

While I was quarantined that previous year, I earned my first $25 tending to a calf on Grandma's farm.

When the calf sold at the market for $50, Grandma gave me half and told me to put it in the bank.

I walked into the only bank in our tiny, coal mining town in the Appalachian region of Virginia and asked to open a "charge account."

The bank teller chuckled and opened my first savings account.

It was a small town where everybody knew everybody, and the story about me trying to open a “charge account” as a kid was frequently told.

In 1966, ten years after opening my first bank account, I was 6’3”.

My best friend and I were in his living room talking about going to college. 

His dad, who had been the bank president for decades, was reading the newspaper, and asked me, “How old are you?”

“I'm 17,” I said.

“You can't be. When you came into the bank ten years ago, you had to be 12.”

“No, sir, I was only 7.”

His dad lowered the newspaper, looked at me puzzled over his reading glasses, and said, “We thought you were just slow.”

How have you beat the odds in your life?