There’s a family I know in Garwood, New Jersey. A family doing business the right way for four generations. From humble beginnings in 1928 to the state-of-the-art manufacturing today. The Shea family has produced millions pens and markers. Their success was forged from hard work an American grit. That’s why mikeroweWORKS is proud to partner with this family business. We share common values, a strong work ethic, and pride and craftsmanship, innovation, quality, and an appreciation of the American worker. That’s what the Pen Company of America brings to the table each and every day. In a global economy when other companies moved overseas the Shea family kept their business right here in America. It takes a lot of people to develop, manufacture, and deliver a quality product every day. But it starts right here in Garwood, New Jersey with a family. The new governor looked down from the podium and considered his legacy. He wanted to be remembered as a great leader- tough, but fair. A man of faith, who lived by the courage of his convictions. But right now, that legacy was in question. Hundreds of angry protesters were occupying the Capital and it was clear. They weren’t going home anytime soon. What to do? Send in the troops and risk a PR disaster, or give in to the demands of an unruly mob? The trouble had begun five days earlier when the governor hung several large banners in the town square. Each banner featured a simple commandment – the most important commandment of them all, in his opinion. It was a risky move as a politician, the governor understood the danger of publicly declaring his faith. But as a leader, he wanted the people to understand that his devotion to a higher power was sincere. At first, the governor was relieved by the crowd’s reaction. a few non-believers shouted insults toward the Capital, but not much else. On the second day though, the protesters returned in greater numbers, demanding that the offensive banners come down. Naturally, the governor refused.That kind of weakness was out of the question. However, the governor was a reasonable man, and addressed the protesters directly. From the podium high above the Capital steps, he spoke to the angry mob about his personal faith, and encourage them to follow his example. “For it is in His name,” said the governor, “and by His grace that peace and prosperity Will come to this untamed land.” Unfortunately, the protesters were not convinced. They didn’t share the governor’s faith and they did not disperse. Soon, they were joined by others, and then by others, after that. And now, after five days of simmering discontent, the prospect of danger was both clear and present. The young governor had to make a decision. He had to show the people who really was in charge. Behind the Capital, his troops awaited orders. The governor figured the rabble would probably scatter at the sight of his militia, but he knew who many would resist, and he suspected many would die. But he also knew that history would remember him as a governor who was tough but fair. a man of faith who stood by the courage of his convictions. The governor gave the order, and the soldiers marched toward the mob -weapons trained on hundreds of unarmed protesters. But then a curious thing happened. The protesters didn’t scatter. But nor did they resist. They simply sat down. Before sit-ins were even a thing, the exhausted men dropped to their knees right there in the dirt, linked their arms together, and dared the governor’s men to kill them where they sat. The soldiers raised their weapons and waited for the final command. The governor stared down from his vantage point, high above the unfolding drama. He gazed across the square at the offending banner that had caused all the trouble in the first place, hanging there limp in the breezeless afternoon. He thought again about his legacy. And then, the governor blinked. He called off his soldiers, and removed the offending banners. Later, and the quietude of the Capital, his advisers congratulated him for defusing a deadly situation with no bloodshed. They called him “prudent.” They called him “merciful.” Maybe he’d be remembered today for those same qualities were it not for another protest a few years later a protest where the governor would once again, appease another angry mob, and assure his legacy once and for all. By then of course, no one was really surprised because the citizens knew exactly what kind of man their governor really was. A man who would tear down the banners that proclaimed his devotion to a higher power – the same banners that broadcast the most important commandment of them all. The commandment that read, “Hail Caesar.” After all, if the people could get their governor to betray his own Emperor, who knows what else they could get this guy to do? This governor of Judea. This man they called… Pontius Pilate. Anyway…that’s the way I heard it.