The man I worked for had one of the biggest companies in New York City. He ran it for more than fifty years. Fifteen years, eight months and nine days. I was with him every day. I worked for him. I protected him. I looked after him. I learned from him. Bumpy was rich, but he wasn't "white man rich," you see? He wasn't wealthy. He didn't own his own company. He thought he did, but he didn't. He just managed it. The "white man" owned it, so they owned him. Nobody owns me, though.