A Son's Leadership, a Father's Love
River City Rising
The two men stood on stage paying honor to those who for the past decade have contributed to the success of University of Memphis’ nationally recognized mentorship program, MILE: the J. Austin Baker III Memphis Institute for Leadership Education. There was emotional expression of gratitude to university faculty, staff and city professionals for all they had given to this program which pairs undergraduate business students with Memphis business leaders. Through this partnership, students learn how to apply all that is learned in the classroom to real-life situations in the conference and board rooms.
The two men stood side by side, paying honor to so many yet also honoring each other. A son, after whom this esteemed program is named, had taken all of the life lessons taught him by his father and used them to create a stimulus for good in the lives of thousands over the past ten years. A father, who had passed down what had been given him by his father, stood with tear-filled eyes a witness to the tangible fulfillment of a dream to use one’s life for the uplifting of others because, as Austin would later share with me, “you have to be willing to lift while you climb.”
The two men stood side by side, paying honor to so many yet also honoring each other. A son, after whom this esteemed program is named, had taken all of the life lessons taught him by his father and used them to create a stimulus for good in the lives of thousands over the past ten years. A father, who had passed down what had been given him by his father, stood with tear-filled eyes a witness to the tangible fulfillment of a dream to use one’s life for the uplifting of others because, as Austin would later share with me, “you have to be willing to lift while you climb.”
Jim and Austin Baker are both remarkably successful businessmen. Individually they each run numerous companies and together they co-own one of Memphis’ most celebrated restaurants, Owen Brennan’s. It was during my tour of Owen Brennan’s with Austin I learned that the same value of hard work instilled in his father while growing up on a farm had been very intentionally passed down to him. Austin is clear and honest in conveying his understanding of having grown up “very blessed”. But even as he shares examples from his childhood, the only silver spoon I perceive he was raised with is the one he often put in the plastic tub used while bussing tables at the family restaurant.
In middle school Jim gave Austin John Grisham client books to read so that he would grasp that learning takes time. Shortly thereafter Austin began working as a busboy at Owen Brennan’s because Jim also needed him to grasp what, in his opinion, actually leads to success. It was here at this restaurant where Austin had to one day humbly stand silent, holding a tub full of dirty dishes, while an unhappy customer expressed her disdain for the restaurant and then threw a glass of red wine across his white shirt. It was here, where one of his father’s lessons took root:
In middle school Jim gave Austin John Grisham client books to read so that he would grasp that learning takes time. Shortly thereafter Austin began working as a busboy at Owen Brennan’s because Jim also needed him to grasp what, in his opinion, actually leads to success. It was here at this restaurant where Austin had to one day humbly stand silent, holding a tub full of dirty dishes, while an unhappy customer expressed her disdain for the restaurant and then threw a glass of red wine across his white shirt. It was here, where one of his father’s lessons took root:
“Academia is great but you have to equate that with real life. They have to merge. Find your academic level at whatever it is but for you to rise and be successful you have to communicate who you are with the people you touch every day. That’s what will make you rise.”
In the midst of obtaining his college degrees and working alongside many who did not come from as fortunate a background as his, Austin began to understand who he was, who he wanted to be and what to do with this knowledge. As we walk over to the table where Jim will be joining us once his last meeting of the day ends, he shares that all of his past experiences converged on his current path of giving back, doing what is right and standing up for others on principle, not popularity. Austin recalls a time during his early entrepreneurial days when he did not have sufficient funds to cover payroll. He called his father for help. “If I was $800 short my dad would give me $400 and tell me to go figure out how to get the rest.” He explains that he did whatever he needed to do so that those who had given so much in support of his goals, his company’s success, would be fairly compensated for such. Austin pauses, then again reflects aloud at how blessed he has been throughout his life to have grown up under the mentorship of his father.
Jim walks over and sits at the table with us. It doesn’t take long before I struggle to hold back tears. I listen as a man who once had last rites administered by a priest talks about resilience. “Don’t come in here anymore,” I told the priest from my hospital bed. “Do not come back in here.” Not long after, Jim was attending college on a gymnastics scholarship.
Love is a powerful thing. If we allow it to guide us we will often be led to the most surprising and fulfilling experiences of our lives. But love is rendered useful only through action. The sacrifices we make and the work we put forth in the midst of those experiences will dictate the remnants of our spirits and stories left behind for those with whom we shared that space. Jim Baker learned as a young boy working fifteen hour weekends on his family’s farm the importance of letting love lead and following through with hard work and sacrifice.
“We had one kerosene burner in the house and I went to bed in my grandfather’s room (because) that was where we had a pot belly stove (for heat). From the time I was eight until I was eighteen, every morning and night, regardless of what I was doing, I had two cows to milk, six horses to feed and 26 head of cattle to take care of. It grounded me. (I thought) this is just what you do every day.” He says that while growing up he did not know he didn’t have any money. His parents did whatever they could to support his endeavors. “In the past few months I found my original chemistry set I had when I was eleven years old, that my parents gave me as a Christmas present,” Jim shares as we talk about the beginnings of his college career, where he majored in chemistry and physics. There was always love in all they did; many sacrifices made for the betterment of his life. When he had to return to Memphis to finish college because his parents could no longer afford his tuition, he understood they had done all they could do. He did not know it then, but he was being led to one of his life’s most surprising and fulfilling experiences: it was here, in a 5000 level chemistry class, where he met his future wife.
Though Jim ultimately pursued an entrepreneurial career, he would still pull lessons from his education in chemistry and physics to help build various highly successful businesses. “With my chemistry and physics background I knew there was always an answer to a problem. There’s an answer to every problem and I want to find the answer.”
Jim’s ongoing quest for answers, no matter the circumstance, often revealed problems not visible in plain sight; they were easy to overlook if one wasn’t paying close attention. But paying attention is, by his own admission, something Jim does rather well. He began teaching Austin the “basics of paying attention” when he was just thirteen years old and accompanying his father to business meetings. Jim would explain to Austin before the meeting started that the questions he planned to ask had only two answers: “yes” and “true”. He asked Austin to focus not on the audible answer given but on the person’s physical reaction to the question. The honest answer lay in their body language, Jim explained. “That was my way of introducing him to real life.”
It is a real-life concept that I quickly learn carries in it absolute truth, as I watch Austin’s body language when his father shares examples of things he’s done for others that, until now, had not been spoken of. Austin listens with an air of both caution and reverence. He is protective of his father’s heart while also admiring of his propensity to give without reservation. Austin was there when his father made call after call, exhausting all contacts, until a restaurant team member received corrective surgery for the eye he’d lost in a childhood accident. He was there when his father contributed all necessary resources to prevent a nonprofit serving the mentally disabled from folding. “Every day you get up, look in the mirror. You can choose who you want to be, every day. I choose to give back to society, to life,” Jim says.
We sit at the table, our conversation halted. I look at Jim, who has paused in what appears to be quiet reflection. I look over at Austin, who quietly watches Jim. It is in this silence that their love speaks loudest. I am grateful to have been there to hear it.
In the midst of obtaining his college degrees and working alongside many who did not come from as fortunate a background as his, Austin began to understand who he was, who he wanted to be and what to do with this knowledge. As we walk over to the table where Jim will be joining us once his last meeting of the day ends, he shares that all of his past experiences converged on his current path of giving back, doing what is right and standing up for others on principle, not popularity. Austin recalls a time during his early entrepreneurial days when he did not have sufficient funds to cover payroll. He called his father for help. “If I was $800 short my dad would give me $400 and tell me to go figure out how to get the rest.” He explains that he did whatever he needed to do so that those who had given so much in support of his goals, his company’s success, would be fairly compensated for such. Austin pauses, then again reflects aloud at how blessed he has been throughout his life to have grown up under the mentorship of his father.
Jim walks over and sits at the table with us. It doesn’t take long before I struggle to hold back tears. I listen as a man who once had last rites administered by a priest talks about resilience. “Don’t come in here anymore,” I told the priest from my hospital bed. “Do not come back in here.” Not long after, Jim was attending college on a gymnastics scholarship.
Love is a powerful thing. If we allow it to guide us we will often be led to the most surprising and fulfilling experiences of our lives. But love is rendered useful only through action. The sacrifices we make and the work we put forth in the midst of those experiences will dictate the remnants of our spirits and stories left behind for those with whom we shared that space. Jim Baker learned as a young boy working fifteen hour weekends on his family’s farm the importance of letting love lead and following through with hard work and sacrifice.
“We had one kerosene burner in the house and I went to bed in my grandfather’s room (because) that was where we had a pot belly stove (for heat). From the time I was eight until I was eighteen, every morning and night, regardless of what I was doing, I had two cows to milk, six horses to feed and 26 head of cattle to take care of. It grounded me. (I thought) this is just what you do every day.” He says that while growing up he did not know he didn’t have any money. His parents did whatever they could to support his endeavors. “In the past few months I found my original chemistry set I had when I was eleven years old, that my parents gave me as a Christmas present,” Jim shares as we talk about the beginnings of his college career, where he majored in chemistry and physics. There was always love in all they did; many sacrifices made for the betterment of his life. When he had to return to Memphis to finish college because his parents could no longer afford his tuition, he understood they had done all they could do. He did not know it then, but he was being led to one of his life’s most surprising and fulfilling experiences: it was here, in a 5000 level chemistry class, where he met his future wife.
Though Jim ultimately pursued an entrepreneurial career, he would still pull lessons from his education in chemistry and physics to help build various highly successful businesses. “With my chemistry and physics background I knew there was always an answer to a problem. There’s an answer to every problem and I want to find the answer.”
Jim’s ongoing quest for answers, no matter the circumstance, often revealed problems not visible in plain sight; they were easy to overlook if one wasn’t paying close attention. But paying attention is, by his own admission, something Jim does rather well. He began teaching Austin the “basics of paying attention” when he was just thirteen years old and accompanying his father to business meetings. Jim would explain to Austin before the meeting started that the questions he planned to ask had only two answers: “yes” and “true”. He asked Austin to focus not on the audible answer given but on the person’s physical reaction to the question. The honest answer lay in their body language, Jim explained. “That was my way of introducing him to real life.”
It is a real-life concept that I quickly learn carries in it absolute truth, as I watch Austin’s body language when his father shares examples of things he’s done for others that, until now, had not been spoken of. Austin listens with an air of both caution and reverence. He is protective of his father’s heart while also admiring of his propensity to give without reservation. Austin was there when his father made call after call, exhausting all contacts, until a restaurant team member received corrective surgery for the eye he’d lost in a childhood accident. He was there when his father contributed all necessary resources to prevent a nonprofit serving the mentally disabled from folding. “Every day you get up, look in the mirror. You can choose who you want to be, every day. I choose to give back to society, to life,” Jim says.
We sit at the table, our conversation halted. I look at Jim, who has paused in what appears to be quiet reflection. I look over at Austin, who quietly watches Jim. It is in this silence that their love speaks loudest. I am grateful to have been there to hear it.