In just a couple of hours, a small apartment living room became a sanctuary. My 94-year-old aunt, Lois Dourte, shared vivid, heartfelt stories from her teenage years and early marriage to my Uncle Vic. She stacked stones of remembrance, and the rest of us listened in awe, soaking in the grit and warmth of this remarkable woman.
At one point, I tugged on a storyline about my uncle’s unexpected venture into financial planning—specifically, how he became a stockbroker. It wasn’t the career path he’d initially studied for.
A friend from Vic’s local church had encouraged him to pursue it, convinced it would be a good fit. But there was a problem: when Vic committed, his friend already had all the potential clients on his own rolodex. The first few years were lean and difficult.
Then Vic’s strategy changed. His office might have been in the Twin Cities, but his clients didn’t have to be. He set aside the phone for cold calls and instead used his car, a map, and a keen eye for opportunity.
He drove quiet two-lane roads through Minnesota’s farming communities, watching for farms with multiple silos beside the barn—a sign, to Vic, of agricultural success and potential investable assets. Instead of dialing strangers, he knocked on their front doors.
I wish I could have seen it myself: Vic’s determination, his masterful salesmanship, the way he earned the trust of hardworking families. That trust was rewarded through his wise and diligent investments.
Lois told the story with joy and gratitude. She had been his companion, his advocate, his confidence booster in those uncertain years. She invested her love and support—and Vic found more silos.
He turned roadblocks into detours, rerouting his path toward success. Over the decades, he stewarded those relationships well. What began as a cold call became lifelong partnerships.
Vic
had grown up around silos in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. He knew the work
it took to fill one, and that shaped his deep commitment to honor the trust
placed in him.
This was the first time I’d heard the full story. I knew Vic was a successful
stockbroker, but I didn’t know it began with his ability to see what others
simply drove past—including me.
Silos.
Behind every silo, a story. A farmer. A family. Waiting for someone to notice.
For someone to care. For someone to stop. For someone to knock. For someone to
listen. And yes—for someone to build a portfolio of trust.
Feeling stuck? At a roadblock? Out of prospects? Discouraged?
Don’t look for paychecks.
Look for silos.
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