Lessons From My Dad
David Freund

By now, many of you are aware that we laid my dad to rest earlier this month. Since his passing, I’ve spent time reflecting on the many lessons I learned from him throughout my life. I thought it might be meaningful to share some of those with you, my readers.

This certainly isn’t an exhaustive list — in fact, it’s only a moment’s worth of reflection — but these are the lessons that came to mind first. So, let’s jump right in.

1. Don’t let others label you.

My father taught me never to let others define who I am or what I can become. He believed that I determined my own potential. He lived this out himself. A man who began his career at Westinghouse Electric as a tool and die apprentice ultimately retired as a Vice President of Manufacturing. Even in retirement, he continued to invest in others by training and consulting with MACNY until age 80.

2. You’re never finished growing.

My father believed there was always more to learn and more ways to add value. Throughout his career, he never had a computer on his desk. I once asked how he created reports, and he simply replied, “I asked production control.” Yet early in retirement, he bought a word processor, then a desktop computer, and eventually laptops so he could continue writing whenever inspiration struck.

3. Leadership is about others, not you.

I had the privilege of working for him at RPM Industries for seven years. As the VP of Manufacturing, he was a true servant leader who consistently looked for ways to make others’ jobs easier. It didn’t matter if it was the company owner or the custodian — he treated everyone with equal care and respect. I often saw him restocking paper towels or helping quietly behind the scenes. He cared deeply for people, frequently closing his office door to support them through personal challenges or to pray with them.

4. Model what matters most.

My father taught me how to be a husband, a father, and a grandfather — not by what he said, but by what he did. He regularly brought flowers home for my mom. Even as empty nesters, there were often flowers on the kitchen table. When they walked together, they held hands. He made time for his children and even more for his grandchildren. He connected personally with each one. This was especially evident in his final weeks, when one of my grandsons repeatedly asked to visit him — not to talk, but simply to be present where his Opa was.

5. Represent where you work with integrity.

I remember criticizing a company I worked for, and he quickly corrected me. He said I had no right to complain as long as I was accepting a paycheck. If it was truly that bad, I owed it to everyone to leave. He always represented the organizations he served with honor and never criticized them.

6. Choose how you treat people.

My father taught me to treat people based on who I choose to be — not based on how they treat me. Even those who wronged him were met with respect and dignity. That is a powerful lesson I will never forget.

7. Speak the truth — with love.

He was never afraid of the truth, but he showed me that truth spoken in love is far easier to receive. When you care deeply about the person, even tough things can be shared in love. He often told me, “If you always tell the truth, you don’t have to remember what you said.”  He lived a life grounded in truth, trusting that it would always set him free.

8. Faith is something you live.

My father showed me how to serve the Lord — not through rules or religion, but through a living faith in a living God. His faith was evident in every part of his life. He didn’t just talk about it — he lived it. He loved people deeply, and when you were with him, you knew you mattered. Even in his final weeks, his faith and love for people were evident as he often prayed for the angels caring for him before he ate his meals.

9. Find beauty everywhere.

He had a remarkable ability to see beauty in everything — whether it was a flower in bloom, a quiet lake, or even a raging storm. When I would bring him to my home after he could no longer drive, he would comment on the beauty of the landscape on Onondaga Hill. He especially loved the view overlooking Tanner Valley. I hope I never lose that appreciation for the simple beauty around me.

10. He taught me how to die.

That may sound strange, but it’s true. Even though his passing was painful, he faced it with grace. He treated those caring for him with tenderness, referring to the aides as his “angels” and apologizing for being a burden. On his 94th birthday, in a special moment of clarity, one of his aides came in and knelt beside him, smiling. He said, “My angel is here,” and kissed her hand. In those moments, he showed what a truly great man looks like — grateful, kind, and full of dignity to the very end.

These lessons remind me that leadership isn’t built in moments of convenience — it’s forged over a lifetime of consistent choices. My father didn’t chase influence, titles, or recognition. He simply chose, day after day, to live with integrity, serve others, and walk faithfully with his God. And in doing so, he became the kind of leader people never forget.

So, the question I’m left with is this: Am I living in a way that is worthy of being followed? Because in the end, our leadership legacy won’t be defined by what we achieved, but by who we became — and who we helped others become along the way.