Rich Life

My Father’s Story

My story begins with my father’s story because he kindled in

me the fire of his passions, his values, and his vision of life.

Innsbruck, Austria, 1917. My father was born with a

silver spoon in his mouth. Not literally, of course, but his

parents had achieved substantial financial and social status.

His father was a lawyer by education, a banker by profession,

and in his later career was transferred to Prague to

assume the duties of a bank president.

His mother became a paragon of Prague society who

devoted herself tirelessly to the artistic and cultural life of the

city. She loved nothing better than discovering emerging

artists; she would further their careers by her own financial

support and by introducing them to others who became their

patrons. She planned the frequent and lavish entertaining that

my grandfather’s position required, and she was noted as a

consummate hostess. And all the while, she kept track of the

many details of day-to-day life in her home, with a guiding

finger in every aspect of running a mansion with servants, a

butler, a chauffeur, and a governess. This was the milieu in

which my father and his three siblings lived as children.

My father always loved the outdoors, and in a decision

that was somewhat surprising for a young man raised in

such circumstances, he had decided by the age of sixteen

that he wanted to become a farmer. His family supported

his decision, and although his own father died that same

year, my father went off to agricultural school, and his

family invested in a large farm that was to become his

when he finished his studies.