In the summer of 2025, I was running errands - nothing unusual. A stop at the grocery store, a mail some books at the post office, then the hardware store for a few fuses. In Milford, you can get all that done in short order.  I love that about my life in small town America.

On the way home, I pulled into the car wash.

Normally, I let the air dry my truck on the short drive home. But this time, something was different. A couple of men stood at the exit, hand-drying each vehicle with towels. It felt like a small but thoughtful touch, so I waited my turn.

As they worked their way around my truck, I looked a little closer - and did a double take.

It was Tom Clary.

A local business owner. A very successful man who could have been anywhere else that day. A man who didn’t need to be there…yet there he was, doing work most would overlook. Quietly. Without recognition. Serving. That moment stuck with me.

A few years earlier, around 2020, I was at the Barefoot Bar at Parks Marina. If you’ve ever been there on a summer weekend, you know the scene.  Crowded, energetic, full of life.

Amid a sea of college-aged staff, I noticed an older gentleman moving quickly from table to table. He had a slight limp, but it didn’t slow him down. He was delivering drinks, adjusting umbrellas, checking on guests.

Curious, I asked one of the workers, “Who’s that guy?” “Oh,” they said, “that’s Butch Parks. He owns the place.”  Of course he did.

And yet, there he was. Serving.

Butch was known for a simple phrase he taught his team: “My pleasure.” Not just words, but a way of being. A standard. A culture.

And then there was my father, Leny Thelen.

He sold beer for a living. Miller Lite, Hamm’s, Olympia, Pabst Blue Ribbon. And occasionally, a local bar or restaurant would run out of beer in the evening and call our house to see if my father could get them a keg of beer that evening.

Without hesitation, he would grab his keys and head out.

As a kid, I didn’t always love that. It interrupted family time. It felt inconvenient. But one evening, I went with him.

I saw the relief on the owner’s face when he arrived. I saw what that simple act meant to their business, and to their livelihood.

On the way home, my dad said something I’ve never forgotten: “It doesn’t take me long. But it means a lot to them.”

Tom. Butch. Leny.

Three men. Three different paths. One shared trait: They served.

Not when it was convenient. Not when it was visible. Not when it elevated their status. They served because it was who they were.

All three have now passed, but their fingerprints remain in the businesses they built, the people they influenced, and the communities they shaped.

Every day presents an opportunity to do the same.

Servant leadership isn’t reserved for CEOs or business owners. It doesn’t require a title. It doesn’t ask for permission. It asks for intention.

So ask yourself:

• Who puts others first, even when no one is watching?
• Who gives their time, energy, and attention freely?
• Who listens to understand, not just to respond?
• Who treats every person with dignity and respect?
• Who removes obstacles so others can succeed?
• Who steps forward when something needs to be done?
• Who chooses courage over comfort?
• Who runs toward problems instead of away from them?
• Who is quietly making their corner of the world better?

If someone comes to mind, learn from them. If no one comes to mind, become them.

Because here’s the truth:

The most impactful leaders are rarely the loudest.
They are the ones with a towel in their hand…
a tray in the other…
or a keg in the back of a truck…

…showing up, again and again, to serve.

Tony Thelen is the founder of The River Coaching & Consulting, LLC, where he works with CEOs and senior leaders to help them live and lead with clarity, purpose, and intention. “The River” is a weekly column focused on practical wisdom for a fulfilling life and successful career. Learn more at www.therivercoaching.com or contact him at [email protected].