Column: CEO Learnings
Not all mentors wear suits. Some wear worn work boots, carry bricks on their shoulders, and lead without ever needing to raise their voice. One of the most influential mentors in my life was Eddie Johnson, a bricklayer’s foreman I worked for right after high school. My time with Eddie and the crew from G & R Masonry shaped me in ways I only began to fully appreciate later in life.
A chance opportunity
It all started with a chance opportunity. At the time, my wife’s cousin, Richie Fitts, and I were looking for summer work. Richie had 
picked up laboring jobs before, while training as a cyclist in Illinois. We landed a small bricklaying job together and soon after walked onto a construction site near my home in Deerfield.
That’s where we met Eddie Johnson – a ruggedly handsome man, about six-foot three, broad-shouldered, with a quiet strength that commanded respect without ever asking for it. He stood up from his work, gave us a quick once-over, and when we asked if they needed help, simply responded, “Yes, but only one of you.” Richie deferred to me. “When should I start?” I asked. Eddie didn’t miss a beat. “Right now,” he said.
That moment kicked off a five-year adventure working summers as a bricklayer’s laborer, and in many ways, as an apprentice under Eddie’s quiet, powerful leadership.
Unexpected learning: Far more than how to lay bricks well
I worked those summers all through college, even picking up work during holidays and right after graduation, before moving into my first professional role. And in that time, I became not only a better worker, but a better person.
What I learned from Eddie went far beyond how to mix mortar or carry hods of brick. I learned how to lead, how to earn trust, how to stay humble, and how to bring people together.
His example spoke louder than any words
Eddie wasn’t flashy. He didn’t need to be. He led by example. He didn’t talk much about himself or preach values – he lived them. He treated every job with respect and expected the same from the rest of us. He was a man of integrity, someone who believed in doing what was right even when it wasn’t the easiest or most beneficial choice.
His motto, one he passed on to his children, was to “make the right choice first.”
What stood out most about Eddie was his quiet strength. In hindsight, Eddie’s leadership echoed that of remarkable corporate leaders such as Alan Mulally of Ford – humble, deeply competent, and always focused on the team.
Under Eddie’s leadership, the job site was a place of mutual respect and quiet camaraderie. Our crew was diverse – two college students, seasoned tradesmen in their 60s, immigrants from Europe with an artisan’s eye for stone, and laborers from Chicago’s West Side. It was hard work. Grueling work. But it was also joyful.
Quietly fostering a sense of belonging and purpose, positioning each person to do their best
Eddie made sure everyone found their place.
If you had a particular talent – such as Vito from Italy and Gunnar from Sweden, who crafted breathtaking stone fireplaces – Eddie would make sure you were positioned to excel. He knew how to adapt, how to manage changing conditions, and how to bring out the best in a team. He didn’t micromanage or command. He enabled. He coached. He watched closely, saw where you struggled, and helped you get better.
He was also meticulous.
The job site had to be cleaned before we left – no exceptions. He believed in leaving the “campsite” better than you found it, a principle that extended into every part of his life.
Keen observer. Deliberate. Present.
It’s no surprise to me that he remained close friends with people from his childhood throughout his entire life. He valued 
relationships and was generous with his time. He mentored, guided, and poured coffee without thinking twice. He showed care in quiet, deliberate ways.
An enduring friendship and mentor
Eddie served as a groomsman in my wedding. Years later, I invited him and his wife, Jan, to a formal dinner in Chicago where I was pitching my company to a group of investors ahead of going public. I wanted him there—not just to share the moment, but so those investors could see the kind of man who helped shape me. And I wanted Eddie to see what I had done with what he taught me. He and Jan remained warm, steady presences in my life until their passing.
What shaped Eddie’s life and leadership?
Eddie had a fascinating life. He grew up during the Depression in a place called Mudville, in the northern suburbs of Chicago, where he learned to make do with very little. He served in the Navy during the Korean War, working in the engine room of a destroyer, and later built a life through the trades—first as a bricklayer, then as a carpenter when the bricklaying trade collapsed in the ’70s.
He smoked a corncob pipe, and later in life, grew a beard that made him look strikingly like Abraham Lincoln. He was a diehard Chicago Cubs fan. Eddie faced deep personal loss, including the death of his son, Steve, and the hardship of watching his father drink himself to death. Yet through it all, he remained steady, kind, and quietly faithful.
He didn’t preach about Jesus—he lived what Jesus taught.
An especially touching memory
In one of the most touching stories shared by his son Ken, Eddie and a childhood friend named Russell – both in their late 80s – went out for one last fishing trip with Russell’s son. The boat was a gift to the son, but it was given with the condition that Ken had to take Eddie and Russell out on the water one more time.
Ken said that boat trip was one of the most profound experiences of his life, watching the bond and the stories of two men who’d shared 80 years of friendship.
That’s who Eddie was. A relationship builder. A quiet rock. A servant leader before the term existed.
On my radio show, The Mentors Radio, I speak with well-known leaders from business, government, and the arts, but I’ve yet to meet someone who exemplified leadership more naturally than Eddie Johnson.
Eddie didn’t claim to be anything. He just was. He showed empathy. He took accountability. He asked for input. He listened deeply. He understood diversity and brought people together. He held himself and others to high standards. And most of all, he helped me become a man.
At the beginning, I wasn’t a great laborer. I struggled. But the guys on the crew helped me out, showed me the ropes, and Eddie stuck with me. Eventually, I became one of his best laborers. He asked me to work weekends. He asked me to help with side jobs. And when I was home from college, he asked me to come back for the holidays. That meant something to me – still does. It was never a hardship. It was an honor to serve him, to be trusted by him, and to be part of his team.
It’s never about the titles or accolades
I learned from Eddie that real leadership is not about titles or accolades. It’s about presence, reliability, and how you treat people when no one’s watching. It’s about helping others become better, making good choices when no one’s looking, and holding fast to your principles when times get tough.
There was no performance review, no written evaluation, no formal acknowledgment of my work with Eddie Johnson. But what I gained from those years working alongside him can’t be measured on any form or scorecard. I carry his wisdom with me every day—in business, in life, in how I lead and how I serve. Working with Eddie as a bricklayer’s laborer gave me a foundation sturdier than any wall we ever built. And for that, I will be forever grateful.
We never truly know, in the moment, who will shape us most.
Eddie Johnson wasn’t a public figure. He didn’t seek attention or titles. But in the quiet way he led, in the care he showed for his work and his people, he left an imprint on my life that has lasted decades. The lessons I learned from him didn’t come from textbooks or boardrooms—they came from job sites, sweat, humility, and a man who led with his hands and his heart. Eddie was the kind of leader the world needs more of. And I was lucky enough to work beside him.
View Articles Thomas M. Loarie is a popular host of The Mentors Radio Show, the founder and CEO of BryoLogyx Inc. (BryoLogyx.com), and a seasoned corporate... MORE »
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