Reflections on Ken Lay.

I am sure by now you all have heard about the surprising death of Ken Lay, who died about 24 hours ago of a "massive coronary" at his vacation house in Aspen. Although I learned of this not very long after it occurred, it took me all day to mull over my thoughts about it.

Here they are . . .



(Photo courtesy of MediaWatch)

My initial, visceral reaction to Lay's death was one of shock and sadness. This surprised me almost as much as the death itself. As you may recall, I was not impressed by Lay's attitude during his cross-examination in his criminal trial and felt that the guilty verdict he ultimately received was right on target. So, why the feeling of sadness?

For starters, my own father died unexpectedly of a heart attack, as most faithful readers of this blog are probably aware. I think that any remotely similar death, even of someone I did not know at all, strikes a chord with the part of me that remembers the shocked feeling of great loss. I learned of another odd similarity when I realized today that Ken Lay was 64, the same age my father would have been this year, had he not died eight years ago. But this realization made me mad: while I realize there are no guarantees of fairness in this world, it seems massively unfair to me that a man who lived the kind of life Ken Lay did was permitted eight more years of life--precious time spent with his family and others who mattered to him--than my own father was. I know this makes no sense, but it is how I felt.

As far as I can tell, Ken Lay and my father had only two things in common, other than their cause of death: both were born poor and worked hard to make a better life for their families. I believe the resemblances end there. Playing any role whatsoever in the financial downfall of another human being would have been as foreign to my father as the extravagant lifestyle that Lay lived . . . Lay, who lived that lifestyle while promising Enron employees he was high on the company while at the same time secretly selling his stock like there was no tomorrow. That is something my father would never have done.

My feelings circled around again by the end of the day. Now, this Houston Chronicle editorial says most accurately what I am feeling: (a) Lay's death is a loss for those who sought penal and financial closure for his wrongdoing; and (b) Lay's death cost him the opportunity for atonement and redemption among those whom he wronged. Finally, my heart goes out to Lay's family, as I know very well the pain of incompletion when a loved one passes without warning. I can only imagine that their pain is compounded by the fact that they view him as having been unfairly persecuted over the last few years. Enron was not their fault, as far as I can tell, and I am sorry for their pain.

Maybe I will feel something different tomorrow, but that is where my feelings end up tonight.