Pres Eckert had his quirks. Filled with nervous energy, he would pace the room, bite his nails, leap around, and occasionally stand atop a desk when he was thinking. He wore a watch chain that wasn’t connected to a watch, and he would twirl it in his hands as if it were rosary beads. He had a quick temper that would flare and then dissolve into charm. His demand for perfection came from his father, who would walk around construction sites carrying a large pack of crayons with which to scrawl instructions, using different colors to indicate which worker was responsible. “He was sort of a
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