Lessons Learned From My Immigrant, Gun-Toting, Multi-Time CEO, Father

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​Lessons from My Gun Toting Father.mp3​

A hunter of grizzly bears, a man born into nothing.

A man who labored at a slaughterhouse, who built things with his hands until they bled and calloused. Who cut stone, and led teams, who built businesses and eventually sold them. Who created his own path. A man who was just as likely to be skiing avalanche routes alongside the Olympic team, as he was surfing the Mexican coast or taking a little girl to her 587th softball game.

Stan Sanchez, Alaskan wilderness.

Shoes, they can be hard to fill.

They can turn into caverns your tootsies are just too damn small to snuggle into. I feel that way at times with my father. How can a human live as many lives as he has? No surprise, he's a superhero in my eyes. A giant of a man (an honest 5'10"), but a weaver of stories and a liver of lives too big to stand small. Why am I talking about my father?

Well, someone asked me today, what does it take to do what you've done Codie? I always chuckle at that. I'm no one special. I'm very mediocre, still on my grind, prone to way too many grammatical errors and a cacophony of Latina outbursts that I will never admit to my husband are at times maybe, potentially, could be seen as, irrational.

Yet, I have been pondering what it means to be a leader of humans. In a time where our country and corporations seem devoid of leaders, I'm going to do my second series on leadership from humans I have been blessed to be led by. If you want the first it's from my former Navy SEAL, current bad-ass, spotlight-hating, selfie-avoiding, hairy-chested husband —> here.

The second is on the other main man in my life.

My father. My belief is, you too will learn and the lessons he's rubbed off on me just may touch you.

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Today in < 10 minutes → We’re Going to Dive into:

1. 9 Lessons on Leadership → That have Changed my Life
2. Stories that Travel Through Time
3. 3 Tweets That Made People —> $$$ in Biz Buying

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Rules from A Man Among Men

#1 Not Armed & Dangerous, Armed Because the World Is Dangerous

He was 4,235 miles away from the desert he was born. The scent of creosote was replaced with the smell of the rain. Welcome to Kodiak Alaska where the only thing bigger than the tall stories told were the bears that often entered them. My father and his hunter he was guiding were 100's of miles from another human under the forever sky. They'd camped by a winding river, their two plastic tents the only protection from Mother Nature. On this night it was cloudy. Clouds are different in Alaska, they mean no moon and no stars, a night so black you might miss your hand in front of your face.

My father slept soundly in the wilderness, he'd grown up in them. On this night though sleeping was about to not be an option. In the vast silence, a noise broke his slumber, a chuffing, as heavy breathing filled the air. His hair stood on his arms, chills ran down his legs as he sat listening to his items being ruffled through. Only one animal makes those sounds, and it's not a friend. As the sounds came closer and closer the only thought in his head was, "I'm not going to die hiding in this God damn tent."

He slipped on a headlamp, grabbed his gun made specifically to create big holes... in big bears.

Funny fact about bears, during mating season when their musk permeates you can usually smell 'em before you see 'em. The bears musky scent began to permeate his tent. The distance had closed. He was out of options. But my father is a hunter, and before he got hunted he was damn sure about to hunt back.

Imagine a flashlight in the middle of the ocean. It's a pin of light fighting the darkness. He turned his tiny light as his gun tracked iit, hoping to see the bear before the bear saw him. As he fully unzipped his tent to the right, he looked straight into the face of a bear who had decided to charge a man 4,235 miles from home. It happens quickly and it happens slowly.

His muzzle flashed, and the bear fell, and my father sh*t himself. Just kidding, I made that last part up. Stan sat down breathing heavy as the blood pooled and the smell of iron mixed with musk.

It's a smell not to be forgotten.

Now tell me again about how tough you are and how much you lift, bro?

Lesson: What does it mean to truly be dangerous? Civilize your mind, make savage your body.

#2 Tell the Truth, It's Easier

He walked into one of those good ole country establishments that if you're from the East probably don't make a lot of sense. Big hats, straw floors, lots of whiskey and bud heavy's. He was doing the real estate on this here country bar. Except this bar was owned by a big-time country star, name splashed on the building and everything. My father sat down drafting the paperwork to close the deal and help them open a series across the country.

It was a raucous success. They got financing from private buyers, Italians to be particular. Which was a tad funny given their gold chains and shiny loafers in a western bar in Phoenix, Arizona. But hey, it's show business right? Stan's the type of guy who has never met a stranger before so while most people ignored the financiers to focus on the celebrity Stan treated everyone like they all went to the bathroom just about the same way. Others wanted to ignore some of the particulars to push things along. But Stan, was all about efficiency done right, and he talked them out of it. All closed, but all closed the right way.

Then one day he opened the paper, plastered on the front was the photo of a man he'd come to know, who turns out was known by the FBI as well. A hidden man, with dark stories from mafia days on the east coast. Turns out he was a muscleman of the most ahem practiced sort. While the hunt went on for him, others deals fell through and many others were scared for their lives, and for the Feds to take too close a gander. You see many people hadn't been as straight-laced as my father. But my dad, that's not his style.

He always said, "Tell the truth, the lies are to hard to keep track of." I've never known him to not sleep like a baby. He remembers thinking back on when one of those Italians walked in and they were carrying a guitar case.. hmm maybe the tune inside was a bit more violent.

Lesson: So tell the truth, even and perhaps especially, when it's inconvenient.

#3 Just Because It's Popular, Doesn't Mean It Makes Any Damn Sense

The house was brimming with people and their glasses were brimming with liquid. That's what parties are right? Except there's an image I'll always remember as a young girl, my father pouring drink to drink. His big smile, hugging and welcoming others. The way he made everyone feel like the most important person in the room. But most of all, how the drink in his hand was always a Mexican coke. Not to be confused with the watered-down fake sugar US version. No sir.

For as long as I can remember, he didn't drink alcohol. Life of the party, but the sober driver. For years I'd get protective from people assuming he was an alcoholic. It was a time when being sober was a had to, not a chose to. He'd chuckle when people didn't believe his reasons. "I'm not here to convince anyone of anything," he'd say.

I asked him one day why?

He said, "Because I don't want to. Life isn't for escaping, it's for living. And if I don't like a person enough to hang out with them without drinking, I'm not sure it makes much sense to drink until they get interesting."

Lesson: From then on I questioned, am I doing a thing because I want to, or because everyone else is?

#4 You Can't Teach Desire

"You can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink," he said to me giving me a big hug. I was having a day. You know one of those days as an entrepreneur where you are pretty sure everything is going to fall apart and it's your fault.

"The truth about people Codie, is that you never really make anyone do anything. They either choose to do it or they do not. And the moment you figure out how to find the people who already want what you're selling, well, that's the moment you'll never have to sell again," he took a long pull on his cigar as the fumes curled up into the desert moon.

"It's a funny thing about being the man in charge. I can tell ya firsthand people will be your greatest strength and the source of 99.9% of all your problems. Just expect most of them to not want it as bad as you do, and try to bring them along with you anyway," he smiled. "Great leaders at least give the horse a chance to drink, but they never force it down."

Lesson: Help lead your people, but never drown them.

#5 A Cup of Coffee and Four Chairs

The four chairs and the time we spent in them. If you walk into my parents house, there is a heart. It lies beating in the center of the house. It's four chairs adorned in dark swirling fabric all facing one another. The heart draws you into it each time you enter, a vortex where ideas, debates and discussions ring. The tv is far away, the radio is too, there is nothing to look at except the faces of our family. As long as I can remember we've sat in those four chairs. It's where I learned to question things, to speak my mind but be ready to defend what rattles out of it. If I could give a family one thing it would be a 4 set of armchairs just deep enough to sink into them and the humans who can nestle alongside.

Lesson: Your best moments may be seated right alongside those you love, trying to figure the world out together.

#6 Will You Really Protect Your People?

​65% of restraining orders are violated. Skim the pages of papers to see women who were killed after filling restraints against usually those they at one time adored. Imagine one of your loved ones with a specter of a man who thought no was yes. In the west we have something called outlaw law, it's found in no pages of legal doctrine, its ways are tenuous and malleable but it's a code. A code to protect the good and take care of the bad. Even, and especially, when the law won't.

The night was dark and her face was bloody, swollen, bruised, like an overripe peach. Her abnormally big blue eyes were lined in red, her blonde hair tangled with tears. She came to two she trusted, men who worked with their hands, men who knew how to hunt, and how to protect. She was just looking for shelter but they knew the shelter was temporary.

As her eyes finally hit the pillow in sleep, they went hunting. The night was set to have a talking to with a man who used fists instead of words. They "sat" him down in a chair, with a story to tell. An ahem, hypothetical, story of what happens to those who hurt those who can't fight back. Of choosing carefully the next decision made, of watchful eyes and complete conviction in purpose.

The man was never heard from again. Cowards hide when the light is shined on them. What they did, most will never do.

Lesson: Taking responsibility even when it's unpopular, is a scary thing. Yet sometimes it's the only thing to do.

#7 Surfing Is Really Just Surrendering

The waves crashed over his head again and again, a relentless onslaught like getting knocked into a corner with a boxer overhead. If you've never felt what it's like to get stuck in between sets in the ocean, imagine you like to breathe, then take it away. Imagine you like knowing up from down, then remove it. Imagine the sound of a jet engine churning all around you and the knowledge the coral and stones are waiting to punish a wrong move.

He started with a jolt, his hand screaming in pain. He must have lost consciousness for a moment. Tempted by the mercurial mistress of surf, the sun barely coming up the horizon, he was alone, but he pushed through the pain. It happens so quickly the fear doesn't creep in on you until you submerge. He was searching in the blackness. Was it up? Was it down? He grabbed a breath, just to get beaten down again. His feet flew over my head, he tried to tuck to avoid the coral but his main concern is finding more of that h20 that he previously took stupidly for granted. And the waves, they keep on coming. He started to panic a little bit. Then he remembered, surrender. Breathing slowed and after a few more gulps of that salty brine the waves set him free.

Finally reaching the shore he lay still. Then willed his eye to his hand. Two fingers were jammed so deep they looked like dark purple broken carrots. The whole thing was swollen and red. With a sigh, he bit down hard and with all his might wrenched them out.

That sound that emerged made him happy for the first time that day that no one was around. Suffer in silence they say.

Lesson: Surrendering to the current, is often the only way to win.

#8 Circles

Growing up was hard in his day. His family immigrated from a war-torn dictator-led Spain. They setup shop in a mining town in Arizona where the fumes from the copper sludge created a toxin-filled Northern Lights. Days were simpler and tougher all at once. You wanted wine, you better make it. You wanted meat, off to hunt it. You wanted a toy truck, there's some wood and a chisel. My father was tasked with many a chore but one day he was rewarded. A new pet, a little baby bunny rabbit. It's black and white coloring so soft in your hand you thought you might break it. Every morning he'd go in the garden pulling lettuce and carrots to feed him. Each night he'd repeat the ritual. Days turned to weeks and his bunny was not so little anymore. "Maybe they'd get more baby bunnies?" He thought.

One evening he went out for this evening ritual of lettuce and bunny pets. Empty cage. Frantically searching he cried out to his Grandpa. "Where is my bunny?"

"Oh," he said, "He was your meal we just enjoyed." His face nonchalant he moved to his next task. He wasn't a cruel man, just a man used to living on the land. My father ran out, tears down his small cheeks.

You will always remember your first kill. The first time you take a life. The first time something has to die to sustain you. It's the circle of life, but we've removed ourselves from it. Our cheeseburgers so far from the cow they came from.

Lesson: The Circle of Life... Some things have to die so others can live.

#9 Chains on Knuckles

He walked home, his head hung low with shame. A tiny boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He knew he wasn't wanted. They told him as much. White vs brown, Smith vs Sanchez. He was the latter and they were the former. In old mining town Miami, Arizona a new school was being built. It wasn't as nice as the old one, it wasn't as big, it didn't have papers and pencils and pens all around. It was for the Mexicans, the Latinos and now he was going to have to go there. Which was no big deal, he didn't like school much, the outdoors taught more. But not liking it and not being welcome to it were two different things.

He walked into his fathers house trying to stay quiet and small.

"Why are you home from school so early son? What did you do?"

He relayed the words of a teacher telling him he was Mexican and Mexicans weren't allowed there anymore. His father paused as he was known to do and said, "Bleed just like the rest of 'em, don't we."

He grabbed his tiny hand in his calloused one, grabbing his hat and an odd set of chains. As he walked down to the school yard no words were spoken. He knelt down to the little boy and told him to, "Wait right here." Then saunterred over to the head of the school, the chains clinking as they wrapped around his hand. His father had fought fascists and sailed oceans under servitude, a school teacher didn't seem to scare him much. The boy felt the tension in the air rippling. He never heard what words were spoken but he'll always remember how the chains tightened alongside the tension, until they both seemed to relax away.

Lesson: Compliance is not always the only option. Bullies respond to strength not rationality. Oh, and chains can be used to restrain and to free I suppose.

THOSE are a few of the many lessons I learned from my father.

*Personal disclaimer, these are the stories told through my eyes, I'm sure there are holes filled incorrectly but then again, never let the facts get in the way of a good tale is a Sanchez maxim. And time changes patinas.

Question everything, stand up for what's right, and never fear struggle,

Codie

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Tweets to Trillions

(Ok not quite trillions but I like the alliteration). these

Tweet #1: Biggest Mistake in 1st Time SMB Buying

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Tweet #2: This is the Playbook, Become a Player

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Tweet #3: 5 Ways to Buy Businesses

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He Grew This To An $80 Mil Business Without Much Outside Capital

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Disclaimer – This is the “Be an adult” section. Everything mentioned above isn’t advice, just a recount of what I did. That said: This article is presented for informational purposes only. The opinions stated here are not intended to recommend any investment or provide tax advice. Neither are they an offer to sell or the solicitation of an offer to purchase an interest in any current or future investment vehicle managed or sponsored by Codie Ventures, LLC or its affiliates. All material presented in this newsletter is not to be regarded as investment advice, but for general informational purposes only. Day trading and investing do involve risk, so caution must always be utilized. We cannot guarantee profits or freedom from loss. You assume the entire cost and risk. You are solely responsible for making your own investment decisions. We recommend consulting with a registered investment advisor, broker-dealer, and/or financial advisor. If you choose to invest with or without seeking advice from such an advisor or entity, then any consequences resulting from your investments are your sole responsibility. By reading/sharing this newsletter or consuming our content on our other channels, you are indicating your consent and agreement to our disclaimer.

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