The Gift of Friendship

He was never on Facebook, not Twitter or LinkedIn yet he was one of the most connected people I knew. He loved life, treated people with the utmost respect, an avid reader, a true educator, and a wise man who knew how to make everyone feel special. Every birthday, which he always remembered, his special gift to me was books, printed books, not electronic, subjects designed to broaden my understanding. He would send me articles on business, technology, sports, and politics. He always encouraged me to grow, to learn new things, to write, to always be me. “Never compromise your Midwest values, never stop being Patrick.” Always smiling and laughing we met for lunch when he was in town. It was always at 11:20 a.m., he wanted to beat the crowds. That hour together we always laughed, never about gossip, never at the expense of another, a deep hearty satisfying laugh, the kind that when you part you’re smiling inside. After lunch he would insist on driving back along the Carlsbad coast. "This is the most beautiful place to live in the world," he would say.

We never spoke on the phone, - never - it was eye-to-eye or a quick cryptic e-mail that always ended “Hugs - Tawfic”. He was very private; we would meet 5:30 a.m. at corporate headquarters (Starbucks), on Saturdays, just to catch up. No business talk. No matter how I tried the conversation always turned to what was I doing, what I was developing, “How’s your education coming along.” One memorable trip to Starbucks in Solana Beach we laughed so hard the tears were rolling; his photo was on the wall – customer of the month. “They put that photo there to remind the employees to order my green tea; they always seem to run out.” 

Every morning, on my way to work, I would look for him on his bicycle; he loved to ride to work. As I turned left on Cannon Drive he would turn right into the GIA parking lot, we always took a minute to hug and start the day with a laugh or two, about nothing really, just the joy of being alive, or the beauty of the weather in Southern California. Once I made an off-hand, somewhat joking comment about the value of keeping his bicycle chain clean. From that point on his chain was immaculate and well lubricated. He said, to me “You may not think so, but I listen to what you say, the guy from my bicycle shop picks this bike up once a week, cleans it, makes adjustments, and returns it. My wife is still wondering how I get him to do this; an extra $20 bucks goes a long way.” 

His office door was always closed, you respected his time at work, and if you had a business meeting with him it was exactly that, you had eight minutes no fluff, no “chicken-shit.” On the wall of his office was an oversize clock, it was set to India time. “I’m not really here,” he would say, “my focus is India, South Africa, Botswana, and starting to work on China. We are in the business of making sure everyone who needs it feels nurtured and self-actualized and on Friday we all sit in a circle and hold hands while we sing - Kumbaya! Welcome to doing business in California.”

Our first meeting was his first day in the development department at GIA. He never gave me a chance to mispronounce his name like everyone else seemed to. He pulled me aside, took out a piece of paper and wrote on it To-Feek (Tawfic). My name is pronounced To-Feek. I'll never forget that moment. He was allowing me into his personal space, and not many people had that privilege I would later come to learn. We hit it off immediately, not simply colleagues but friends for life. We traveled to London, India, Dubai, and Basel. When we worked, it was laser beam focus. When we relaxed, he introduced me to extravagant places. During my first trip to Dubai (United Arab Emirates) we had dinner at the Burj Al Arab, he insisted on ordering the beef bourgogne, we both enjoyed dinner, it was delectable. The next morning he had a note delivered to my room, “sick from eating meat.” Turns out, he had not eaten meat for over 20 years, he was a vegetarian, but the recipe was considered the best in the world and he wanted me to have it. The minimum order for two people.

Over our many years of friendship he shared stories growing up in Lebanon, his father’s tailor shop, the lessons learned from that business and his father. How he came to the United States on a soccer scholarship, how he made ends meet while in college working in the cafeteria at the Yosemite Lodge. And with a wince on his face, how he answered to the name “Lloyd” while working there because his (idiot) boss could not or would not call him Tawfic. He later graduated from University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA) and Malcolm Keer, one of his professors took him under his wing. This mentor encouraged Tawfic to pursue a PhD in political science with a focus on International Business, from the University of Nebraska of all places. Why, because according to Keer, the professor in Nebraska was the best in the field. He loved his time in the Midwest, he admired the down-home family values and spoke of them often. After completing his doctoral dissertation he was hired to teach Comparative Development and International Relations at UCLA and became a tenured professor there. “Why did you leave,” I asked him one day?

“I was with a colleague (a full professor at UCLA) one day when he went to the bank to take out a second mortgage, so he could pay his children’s college tuition. That day I saw myself doing the same thing and could not bear it.” He resigned from UCLA and formed a company with an experienced international business man named Tom Sorenson; he always spoke with reverence about lessons learned from his friend and partner. They ran an International consulting business that became very successful; when his partner unexpectedly died he sold the business and moved on. That’s when he came to GIA.

He never stopped being a proponent for higher education. Of course, his two children graduated college. With love in his eyes and laughter in his voice, he glowed talking about the success of his cost centers. “No matter how successful they are, he would say, they always want money from Dad.”

With his encouragement and complete support he convinced me to go back to college at 51 years of age to finish my degree. My major became business, with an emphasis on e-Business. In his spare time he enjoyed teaching at The University of Phoenix as an adjunct professor. Whenever I had a question about business, philosophy, history, or a famous person he was my "personal" professor. He was very well read. I vividly remember philosophy class; we were discussing Machiavelli, The Prince. At lunch one day I asked Tawfic about Machiavelli's’ philosophy, “Politics is art of the possible.”

“The Prince is about power, he said, it’s about walking over people, clawing your way up the ladder, you were in Florence, you saw his tomb - even Machiavelli died, we all will. Power corrupts people. The art of the possible is working with people, finding people you can trust and allowing them to make mistakes. We all make mistakes. And when we do never pass the blame, take the responsibility. But, when you do what you love, and are given the opportunity to do, silently, quietly, with integrity and no fanfare you will discover the art of the possible.” Those are the talks I’ll miss . . .

My dear friend Tawfic Farah left this world unexpectedly, a ruptured aorta aneurism, on May 16, 2013 doing what he most loved to do, International business development. He was in Johannesburg, South Africa handling, behind the scenes, no fanfare, no fluff, the final preparations for a board of governors meeting. God speed my friend, your sojourn was brief, but your influence profound, your stories, and lessons, the sparkle in your eyes, your smile, the laughter, and your gift of friendship will always be a part of me.

In 2013, to honor our friend and colleague, GIA’s acting president, Susan Jaques, officially announced the Tawfic Farah Scholarship. It is endowed as a full GIA on-campus scholarship in perpetuity.

Still today, when I see two men sitting in a coffee shop laughing or just chatting my thoughts flash back to the precious moments spent with my dear friend Tawfic.

“There is nothing on earth more to be prized than true friendship.” - Saint Thomas Aquinas

Patrick B. Ball, May 19, 2013 - updated May 15, 2017