What does punctuality have to do with accountability?

If you are 15 minutes early you are on time, if you are on time you’re late (- Vince Lombardi); a story about accountability.

I am a punctual person. It’s a trait that’s served me well in both my personal and professional life. But it wasn’t always this way. In fact, my journey to punctuality began with a rather harsh lesson from my dad and his beloved car.

When I was 17, I had a driver’s license but did not have a car, so on weekends I would borrow my dad’s car to hang out with my friends. He set some clever rules around borrowing the car: it had to be returned with a full tank of fuel, washed, and on time. He would use the fuel I put in to drive his clean car to work all week, and then I would refill it every weekend for the next week. It worked for both of us.

One weekend in October, I wanted to use dad’s car, so I asked as usual. I am not sure why, but dad told me that if I did not return by 10pm I would never be allowed to use his car again. I remember thinking that was strange because I didn’t think I had been late before, so I agreed and he handed me the keys.

It was raining, and the cold air seeped into the car as I drove. I followed my normal routine – I went to the carwash and the sweet scent of soap filled the air as I scrubbed the car clean. Then, I headed off to my friend’s house which was a bit of a drive in a rural area and hung out there with a few friends.

Panic surged through me as I glanced at my watch and saw the time creeping toward 9:35. A cold dread washed over me as I realized I was going to be late. I said goodbye and sped off, the rain blurring my vision. The windshield wipers slapped rhythmically against the glass as I raced to get home. I drove as quickly as I could on the dark, wet roads, my heart pounding in my chest. I thought I saw an animal in the road so I stabbed the brakes and the rear wheels locked and slid toward the ditch. I needed to focus on pushing my speed while leaving reaction time so I would not have to hit the brakes hard again. The beam of my headlights cut through the fog, and I strained to see if deer were lurking in the shadows. I debated whether to skip the fuel stop and head straight home, and decided that it would be better to get return late with a full tank of fuel than return on time without filling the fuel tank. I could talk my way out of being late, and started building my argument while driving.

I pulled into the driveway, the rain drumming on the roof. I rushed inside, handed dad the keys, and kept moving as if everything was normal. He said “you are late.” I agreed and tried to excuse it by pointing to the weather and wanting to be safe. He said that he was glad I was safe, pointed out that I had agreed to the terms, and then said that I could not use his car again. I pretended not to remember the earlier conversation and said “again this weekend?” He said “no, you can never drive it again.” I was stunned.

That jolt of accountability has stuck with me for the rest of my life. To this day when I have a time commitment I make sure to plan in advance so I will be 15 minutes early.

That night, I learned the true meaning of accountability. It was a tough lesson, but it's one that has served me well. Punctuality is more than just being on time; it's about respecting others' time and commitments. And for that, I'll always be grateful to my dad and his lesson in accountability.

Dad gave that car to me the following year, but it needed a new engine – and that is another story for another time. As for driving dad’s car, it was 15 years before I drove a car that he owned. I had learned my lesson by then.

I hope you have enjoyed the story; please share your experiences about teaching and learning accountability in the comments below. Bye for now.