Article December 11, 2000 Issue

FROM ASHES TO RICHES

Donald Houge

Just at the time I was about to launch a career as a musician, my house burned down. All my instruments, all my clothes, and all my books and records—were gone.

As the house was burning, a friend, a former football coach of mine, came over to see me. He'd been an infantryman in World War II, and as we were standing there, he said to me, "Don, 40 years ago I was in a foxhole with two other guys. It was 20 below zero. And all we had between us was a blanket."

It was the perfect thing for him to say at the moment because it really snapped me out of it. I began to see that anything that was really mine couldn't be separated from me; it couldn't be taken away by a fire. Anything that was part of me was locked up in my real identity and couldn't be affected.

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