What Tiger could learn from Letterman...

David Letterman's crisis communication plan earned an "A."

So far, Tiger Woods' plan is earning an "F."

And that is shocking -- at least to me.

Could the world's most-recognized, and probably wealthiest, athlete be mishandling his incident any worsely?

Here's what we know: Letterman was not only guilty of having an affair, but having an affair with a staff member. Woods' car hit a tree. That's all we know.

Yet Letterman was relatively unscathed by his incident, and Tiger is taking a beating.

Why?

For one, Letterman fell on the sword immediately -- at least immediately after being caught, and publicly. Then he moved on. And America let him.

Tiger, who might well have done nothing wrong, seems intent on not being forthcoming.

Maybe he's protecting his wife. Maybe he's trying to protect his pristine image. Either would be understandable. But picking a fight with an information-craving public, and press, is one that even Tiger is not likely to win. The story of what really happened will be told, just like the Letterman story was going to be told.

Is it fair to Tiger Woods that the truth eventually will come out? Should his privacy be respected at the expense of an investigation? Should Letterman have had to fess up to his sins?

Here's one thing to consider: It could be argued that no one has made himself more of a public figure than Tiger Woods. Some of it comes with the territory of being a professional athlete. But Tiger makes only about 10 percent of his money as a golfer. The other 90 percent of his billion-dollar worth is a byproduct of his well-earned and well-marketed image. It's hard for a person like that to hit a tree, cut up his face, lose consciousness, have his car beaten with a golf club (either in an attempt to rescue him, or something else), tell the police three times that he's not going to tell them what happened, and expect to be left alone.

Small Business Success Story, and what you can learn from it

It's not easy to find a local small business owner who is thriving in today's economy. So when I stumble into one who is excelling, I want to do more than just hear from that person. Then if I find out they are authentic, honest and good, I want to do more than listen. I want to soak in what they have to offer.

Mike Russell, founder and owner of Elite Telecom Services in Kennesaw, Ga., is such a person. Nine years ago, Mike, a University of North Carolina graduate, decided to go into business for himself. After having worked for 18 years behind a desk for a couple of corporations, Mike started Elite Telecom. The best way to describe his business is like this: He's a broker who matches his clients (mid-to-large-size businesses) to one of 35 or so telecom companies. He then serves as that business' contact with whichever carrier they choose, ensuring prompt and thorough customer service. The business saves money on their annual phone bills and gets good customer service. Mike can offer his audits and services free to businesses because he gets paid by the telephone companies. Pretty simple and pretty smart.

But I don't have a T-1 line or hundreds of phone lines. And I don't need Elite Telecom Services. So my interest in Mike is how he made it a success. What he told me impressed me even more. It's all about getting to know people and getting a chance to serve them.

Mike was not a natural at networking nine years ago. Now, he's as good a networker as there is in Atlanta. And here's what I like about building a successful business around networking: You can't pretend to be someone or something that you are not -- at least not for long. How many phonies or frauds would you refer to a friend? Perhaps it could happen by accident once in a while, but when you are relying on referrals, the truth will find you out.

Mike got involved with local businesses and civic groups, and now chairs boards, donates to causes and is a champion for charities, particularly those in the fight against cancer.

"In today's times, you might not be able to write a check as a way to give back to the community," Mike said. "So serve meals at MUST Ministries, run a race, build a playground. Just give of yourself."

Mike was a 2009 finalist for the Metro Atlanta Chamber of Commerce Small Business Person of the Year. And it was well deserved. Check him out at elitesvc.com

Man, do I love the Copleys...

A little more than a year ago, I spent a great deal of time with the amazing Copley family. I had previously written about Tyler, 17, at a time when he was fighting cancer like a Samurai warrior. When he learned his leg was eaten up with cancer, he insisted on having it amputated, so he could go on living his life.

But by the time I made myself a frequent part of the Copley's daily routine, Tyler was dying of cancer. I knew it. He knew it. His family knew it. And we all kind of settled into our roles, none of us having done this before.

Now, my role of writing about a dying young man I''d come to care about, and even love, barely deserves a mention. I was going to say here that it doesn't deserve to be mentioned in the same sentence as the roles Connie and her husband Todd played, the role siblings Kirk and Sarah played, and, of course, Tyler's. But no duh, it doesn't. But it's the tiny part I had in their story. When I wrote the stories -- I believe I wrote at least five stories chronicling Tyler's fight, his acceptance and his final days -- I tried to do what good editors had taught: Stay out of the way of the story.

So I couldn't say then how much I had grown to love the Copleys -- at least not to anyone other than them, and I did that on more than one occasion.

I have never seen a mother love a son the way Connie loved Tyler. He first had been diagnosed with cancer back in 2002, so for all of his teen-age years, he needed a little more mothering than most. And Connie was up for it. She loved that boy with a selfless, tireless, active love. She was his servant. And I mean that in the best way. Acts of love from the heart of a servant are about as close to the love of Christ as you're gonna see here on Earth. There can be only one mama, as Todd had proclaimed, and Todd wasn't mama. I got to know Todd well -- maybe not quite as well as Connie, but well enough to say this: Connie was Tyler's rock; Todd was Connie's. And Todd was the perfect man for the job of being Connie's soft place to land.

I talked with Connie tonight because I wanted to include an update on how they are doing. I also miss them. And I need to hear someone who's been in a really dark place tell me that things can be OK again. Different, not easy, but OK.

A couple of days ago, Connie took Tyler's prosthetic leg up to Childrens Healthcare of Atlanta to donate it. She also recently mustered up the courage to go back to the AFLAC Cancer Center and see the staff there. "I made them two sheet cakes and a plate of fruit and took it to them to say thanks," she said.

Last Christmas wasn't great. Connie decorated the house, but she didn't feel like it. In fact, it was a chore. Tyler's birthday came, as did dozens of friends, hamburgers, hot dogs and a bonfire. That was better than Christmas.

Sadly, even though Tyler died almost 15 months ago, the Copleys have been around plenty of death since. Because Tyler grew up going to Camp Sunshine cancer retreats and had made so many friends at the AFLAC Cancer Center, there was no way around it.

Connie's faith saw her -- no, sees her -- through this. But there were times Connie really believed that she demonstrated a more active love for Tyler than what she was getting from Jesus.

"I put one foot in front of other and took it day by day," she said. "In my head, I knew I was not alone and am not alone now, even though I have felt that way some of the time. That's just not who God is."

The Copley's story didn't end when Tyler died. And It doesn't end now. Stay tuned.