Maybe you remember ABC News Radio broadcaster Paul Harvey, who had a syndicated program called The Rest of the Story. In it, Harvey talked about a notable person or event with the “hook” being an obscure but fascinating fact that was revealed only at the conclusion of the commentary—when Harvey intoned: “And now you know … the rest of the story.
This column is a similar exercise based on two of our 10 All-Time Influentials, who are saluted elsewhere in this issue. Those profiles are strictly limited to a pithy 290 words. And they’re harder to write, for me, than those epics about local history that our readers have come to tolerate and, in many cases, to enjoy.
So, naturally, in every profile there were accomplishments that I badly wanted to include but simply couldn’t because of the tightly formatted nature of that section. Two, however, stood out—and I decided to share them in First Word.
RICK BALDWIN: GIFT OF LIFE
I’ve known Rick Baldwin for 40 years, ever since we were members of the Oviedo Jaycees together. So I can’t believe that I’d never heard the tale of his narrow (perhaps miraculous) escape from death, and how dodging disaster has impacted his life, and, over the years, the lives of countless others.
On Friday, July 9, 1982, Rick had a ticket on Pan Am World Airways Flight 758 from New Orleans to Las Vegas. But he talked too long to a colleague and realized that he was about to miss his flight. “I raced to the gate, threw my ticket on the counter and the agent said, ‘You’re late, boy. See that man going through the door? I just gave him your seat.”
Boarding had closed at 3:40 p.m. The time was then 3:42 p.m. The agent suggested that Rick catch a Delta flight scheduled to leave at 4:05 p.m. He got there in time—barely—but the Delta pilot refused to take off because of the severe rain and wind that buffeted the aircraft. The flight left the runway at 4:30 p.m.
Passengers weren’t told (understandably, perhaps) that the Delta plane had flown directly over the smoking wreckage of Pan Am Flight 759. Rick didn’t find out about the tragedy until a stopover Dallas, where he learned that the flight he had missed by two fateful minutes had crashed on takeoff and that everyone on board had been killed.
Even now, Rick remains haunted by the image of the passenger who had snared his ticket: It was a man who was traveling with a young boy, he recalls, perhaps a son, now both gone because of an inexplicable twist of fate (or something) that was set in motion by 160 ticks of some cosmic clock.
Death, of course, wasn’t an abstract concept to the 35-year-old funeral director. But this disaster, he determined, would give a new purpose to his own life and to the lives that were lost. So, ever since July 9, 1982, among Rick’s first waking thoughts have been about what he could do that day to help someone else.
Of course, Rick being Rick, he was always going to be a go-to guy. Still, I imagine that his amped-up altruism is, in part, a conscious effort to make a positive difference during the bonus years—now 43 and counting—that he was gifted by the universe.
Hearing this story also helped me understand something about Rick. When I’ve talked to him on the phone, after we’ve concluded our business, he has never signed off without saying: “Now, is there any way I can help you?” And all this time, I thought he was just being polite.
ALLAN KEEN: OLD-SCHOOL SUCCESS
I’m never surprised at anything that Allan Keen has accomplished or says that he intends to accomplish. I’ve heard him muse, for example, about getting a world-renowned sculptor to create a massive bronze monument to Fred Rodgers for installation at Rollins College—and to raise the money himself—then watched as he actually made it happen.
But I’d never heard him say that he aspired to become an author. Which is why I was surprised when he presented me with a signed copy of Relationships and Reputation: A Story of Success in Florida Real Estate, Community Involvement, and Giving Back (2025, BrightRay Publishing).
Truth be told, Allan didn’t really aspire to be an author. But he was fellow parishioner at St. Margaret Mary Catholic Church with Ed Trifone, a partner in the publishing company who saw much value in the now-legendary dealmaker’s experiences and encouraged him to undertake the project.
Frankly, I’ve never been a fan of business books. But Relationships and Reputation is, to me, only peripherally a business book. Sure, Allan’s many successful business (and civic) ventures are described—but the real lessons are backstories of how those ventures came together.
The erstwhile bank teller began his ascendancy by cultivating older mentors, who admired his work ethic, and came to be among the region’s development elite through relentless networking and connection building.
Plus, even as a greenhorn, the quietly ambitious son of a grocery store manager had unflappable confidence. He could, he believed, do anything he set his mind to. And if he didn’t know where to start, well, chances were excellent that he knew someone who did.
Relationships and Reputation ought to be required reading at Allan’s beloved alma mater, the Crummer Graduate School of Business. If all those aspiring up-and-comers ever want to be like Allan, they should start by filling their Rolodexes
—or their electronic equivalents—with trusted friends whom they’ve made along the way.
And they should generously support the communities in which they live. Central to Allan’s philosophy of life (and business) is “the more you do for others, the more you receive in return.” And here’s all the proof you need.