Mr. Welch and Mr. Lucky

For the past twenty-four years, I have had a lucky charm — a brown leather briefcase — that has come with me everywhere. My assistant, Rosanne, has nicknamed it “Mr. Lucky.” I won the briefcase in an Atlanta golf tournament in 1977, the year I first came to Fairfield. It has seen better days. It’s battered and bruised, or, as Rosanne liked to say, “It’s disgusting and looks diseased!”

I’ve done extremely well with Mr. Lucky. It’s been good to me, and I never wanted to give it up. The only time it’s been out of my sight is when Rosanne took it home for a night to stitch a torn seam back in place. It’s not that I have never been superstitious. I just never wanted to push my luck.

The last day I left headquarters, Mr. Lucky came with me. As my friend Larry Bossidy always said about my briefcase, “It’s Jack. He doesn’t need a new one. That’s the one he came with. That’s the one he’s going out with.”

from the Welch, Jack with John A. Byrne. Jack: Straight from the Gut. (New York: Warner Business Books, 2001).

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