Nevin's Data "Points"

The retirement industry spends enormous time modeling outcomes, but most of what really prepares us for retirement isn’t found in a Monte Carlo simulation. It’s learned from watching people around us live their lives. Often our fathers. My parents led mostly through example — and powerful as that can be, as a kid those messages are often too subtle to be noticed, much less appreciated. At 6’ 5” he was an imposing figure, all the more from the pulpit from which he did speak. He was a good speaker, but not a natural one. As a minister, he worked hard at it, studied his subject matter, and practiced his presentation relentlessly, each and every week. I always thought it amazing that such a quiet, introverted man would choose that career — but, and though it can’t have been easy, it was something he felt called to do at an early age. ad space He had opinions, but didn’t impose them on others. It was difficult (and sometimes frustrating) to wrest opinions from him. Indeed, despite his minis...

  As Father’s Day approaches, I’ve been thinking about my dad, the life he led, the choices he made, and his legacy. Mind you, I’m not talking about money. In fact, I didn’t learn anything about finance from my dad.  Not that our family’s income provided a lot of “room,”—but Dad avoided big purchases with the fervor of Ebenezer Scrooge. However, he’d spend that much (and more) on small things (mostly books, which remain in jaw-dropping abundance in my mother’s home 18 years after his passing!). My dad was a man of few words—spoken words, anyway. At 6’ 5”, he was an imposing figure, all the more so behind the pulpit from which he’d speak three times each week. He was a good speaker, though not a natural one. He worked hard at it, studied his subject matter (hence the books), and practiced his presentation relentlessly each and every week. I always thought it odd that such a quiet, introverted man would choose that career, but it was something he felt called to do at an early ag...

As we headed to San Diego last week, two things were uppermost in my mind. The Summit, of course — you don’t spend 10 months of your life focused on pulling together (and executing) the nation’s largest (and for my money, best) retirement plan advisor conference without running through your mind a constant list of things to be done, things that you think were done, but you’re not sure, and, of course — the things you COMPLETELY forgot about until the day before you fly out. The other thing was my father. See, April 1 was the anniversary of my father’s passing, and while it’s been 17 years, I still remember that day. It was unexpected — on a Saturday morning when such calls are inevitably good or awful news. I had just wrapped up my weekly column when I got that call — from my sister. My father, who had been battling cancer for several years now, had suffered a series of heart attacks. By the end of the day and, sadly, several hundred miles away from our home — he ...

As Father’s Day approaches, I’ve been thinking about my dad, the life he led, the choices he made, and the legacy he left behind. I’m not talking about money. In fact, I didn’t learn anything about finance from my dad—he avoided big purchases with the fervor of Ebenezer Scrooge, though he’d spend that much (and more) on small things (mostly books). Like many in his generation, my dad wanted to hold the checkbook, but it was Mom who always made sure that there was money in the account. Dad tithed “biblically,” but Mom was the one who started setting aside money from her paycheck in her 403(b) plan at work—and continued to do so, even when my father was convinced they couldn’t afford it—and made no secret of that opinion. Or did until he got a glimpse of the statement that showed Mom’s retirement account growth—and then, inspired by that example—he began setting money aside for retirement as well. My dad was a man of few words—spoken words, anyway. At 6’ 5” he was an ...

It was 10 years ago today – a Saturday morning as I recall.   I had just wrapped up my weekly column when I got a call from my sister. My father, who had been battling cancer for several years now, had suffered a series of heart attacks. By the end of the day, he had passed. As the family converged, my siblings and I tried as best as we could, together with Mom, to deal with the tasks that required our attention, and divvied up the ones that seemed to call out for individual attention. Having spent my entire professional career in financial services, and having picked up a law degree along the way, my “job” was to organize the will and assets. The estate wasn’t complicated.   My parents each chose careers of service to others; Dad as a minister, and then a director of missions where he helped other ministers until his “official” retirement several years ago (far as I could tell, Dad’s only retirement was from the receipt of a regular paycheck), while Mom was a school tea...