The Power of A Good Name|好名声的力量

One summer day my father sent me to buy wire and fencing for our farm in Marion County, South Carolina. At 16, I liked nothing better than getting behind the wheel of1 our Chevy pickup, but this time there was a damper2 on my spirits. My father had told me I'd have to ask for credit3 at the store.
Sixteen is a prideful age, when a young man wants respect, not charity4. It was 1976, and the ugly shadow of racism was still a fact of life. I'd seen my friends ask for credit and then stand, head down, while a patronizing5 store owner questioned whether they were “good for6  it.” I knew black youths just like me who were watched like thieves by the store clerk each time they went into a grocery.
My family was honest. We paid our debts. But before harvest, cash was short. Would the store owner trust us?
At Davis Brothers General Store, Buck Davis stood behind the register7, talking to a middle-aged farmer. Buck was a tall, weathered man in a real hunting shirt and khaki pants, and I nodded as I passed him on my way to the hardware aisle8. When I brought my purchases to the register, I said carefully, “I need to put this on credit9.”
The farmer gave me an amused, cynical10  look. But Buck's face didn't change. “Sure,” he said easily. “Your daddy is always good for it.” He turned to the other man. “This is one of James Williams's sons.”
The farmer nodded in a neighborly11  way. I was filled with pride. James Williams's son. Those three words had opened a door to an adult's respect and trust.
That day I discovered that a good name could bestow12  a capital of good will13  of immense value. The good name my father and mother had earned our whole family the respect of our neighbors. Everyone knew what to expect from a Williams: a decent person who kept his word and respected himself too much to do wrong.
We children—eight brothers and two sisters—could enjoy that good name, unearned14, unless and until we did something to lose it. Compromising15  it would hurt not only the transgressor16  but also those we loved and those who loved us. We had a stake in17  one another—and in ourselves.
A good name, and the responsibility that came with it, forced us children to be better than we otherwise might be. We wanted to be thought of as good people, and by acting like good people for long enough, we became pretty decent citizens.
The desire to keep the respect of a good name propelled18  me to become the first in our family to go to college. Eventually, it gave me the initiative19  to start my own successful public-relations firm in Washington, D.C.
I thought about the power of a good name when I heard General Colin Powell say that we need to restore a sense of shame in our neighborhoods. He's right. If pride in a good name keeps families and neighborhoods straight, a sense of shame is the reverse side of that coin.
Today, when I'm back home, I receive respect because of the good name passed on as my father's patrimony20  and upheld21  to this day by me and my siblings22. People like Buck Davis came to know of my success in the world. But it was my family's good name that paved the way.
Keeping a good name is rewarded not only by outsiders' esteem23  but when those who know you best put their confidence in you. In the last months of his life, Daddy, typically, worried more about my mother than about his illness. He wanted to spare her the grief of watching him die at home. So he came to me.
By then I was living and working in Washington, D.C. When Daddy arrived from South Carolina, I had him admitted to a nearby hospital. For two months, I spent every day sitting by his bedside. Both of us knew he had little time left.
When he was not in too much pain to talk, he would ask about the family. He wanted to be sure he had met his responsibilities in this world. On the last day, I was there with him as he passed away.
My daddy had never been rich or powerful. But in his dying, he gave me a last gift: his faith that I was the man he had wanted me to be. By trusting me to care for him at the moment of his passing, he showed not only his love, but his pride and confidence in me.
After all, I was James Williams's son—a Williams of Marion, South Carolina—and a Williams would do right.

有一年夏天，父亲叫我去为我们家在南卡罗来纳州马里恩县的农场买些铁丝和筑栅栏用的材料。那时我16岁，最喜欢做的事就是开上我们家那辆雪佛兰小货车迎风飞驰。可这一次，我却提不起兴致，因为父亲是要我去商店赊账购物。
16岁是个轻狂的年龄，自尊心十足，见不得任何怜悯。那是1976年，现实生活中不光彩的种族主义阴影仍然随处可见。我曾亲眼目睹过我的朋友赊账购物时的情景：他们低着头站着，店主却摆出一副傲慢的样子，询问他们是否具备“货真价实”的偿还能力。我认识几个像我这样的黑人青年，每当他们走进杂货店，店员就像防贼一样地盯着他们。
我们一家人老实本分，欠账必还。只是在青黄不接之时手头拮据。商店老板会相信我们吗？
在戴维斯兄弟杂货店里，巴克·戴维斯站在现金出纳机后面，正在跟一位中年农民说话。巴克是个块头高大、饱经风霜的汉子，身着正宗的狩猎衬衫和卡其布裤子。我朝他点了点头，从他身旁过去，来到摆放五金制品的过道。当我把要买的东西带到现金出纳机跟前时，我小心翼翼地说：“这些东西我需要赊账。”
那位农民觉得我很可笑，朝我投来讥讽的一瞥。但是巴克的表情并没改变。“当然可以，”他很和气地说，“你父亲向来是个值得信赖的人。”他又转向那个人介绍说：“这是詹姆斯·威廉斯的儿子。”
这一回那位农民向我友好地点了点头。我心里涌起一股骄傲之情。詹姆斯·威廉斯的儿子！这句话为我打开了一扇受大人尊敬和信任的大门。
就在那天，我发现一个好名声可以赐予人们一笔价值巨大的信誉资本。我父母所拥有的好名声也为我们全家人赢得了邻居的尊敬。大家都知道威廉斯家里的人为人如何：体面正派，一诺千金，洁身自爱。
我们8个兄弟、两个姐妹可以一直享受这种唾手而得的好名声所带来的好处，除非我们行为不端而将其毁坏。如果有谁损害了它，不仅他自己遭殃，还会累及我们所爱的人以及爱我们的人。在这件事情上，我们相互之间利害攸关，而且跟我们本人也关系重大。
好名声以及与之相随的责任心迫使我们这些孩子行为更加检点。我们决心要给别人一个好形象。经过长期的努力，我们终于成了品德高尚的公民。
要让好名声永远得到尊重，这一愿望促使我上了大学，成为家里的第一位大学生。而且，正是这一愿望赋予我创新精神，使我最终在华盛顿特区创办了一家属于我自己的颇为成功的公关公司。
就在我对好名声的力量进行思考时，我听到科林·鲍威尔将军说，我们需要在街坊当中恢复羞耻感。诚哉斯言！如果对好名声的自豪感能让家庭和邻里诚实地做人，那么羞耻感就像同一块硬币的反面，不可或缺。
如今我每次回家都受到人们的尊敬，就是因为我和我的兄弟姐妹将父亲传下来的好名声一直保持到今天。巴克·戴维斯们终于都了解到我在世上的成就。但人们不知道，是我家的好名声为我铺就了成功之路。
保持一个好名声不仅可以赢得外人的尊敬，而且还能让那些最了解你的人对你寄予信任。父亲在他生命中最后的几个月里，关心我的母亲胜过关心他自己的病情。他不想让母亲看着他在家中慢慢死去而不胜悲伤，于是他来到我的身边。
当时我住在华盛顿，也在那儿工作。父亲从南卡罗来纳州赶来之后，我让他住进了附近的一所医院。两个月来，我每天都守在他的床前。我俩都知道，他的时间已所剩无几。
在他不是疼痛得难以说话的时候，他总要问起家里的情况。他要确知他已经尽到了人世的责任。最后的那一天，我守在他的身边，看着他瞑目而终。
我父亲这一生既不富裕也没有权势。但在他临终之时，他送了我最后一件礼物：他坚信我已经成了他所希望的那种人。父亲信任我，让我在他弥留之际照顾他，不仅表现了他对我的爱，还表现了他对我的信心和自豪感。
毕竟，我是詹姆斯·威廉斯的儿子——是南卡罗来纳州马里恩县威廉斯家族的一员——威廉斯家的人总是堂堂正正、光明磊落的！
 

14. unearned  adj. 不劳而获的；自然得到的
15. compromise  v. 危害；损害
16. transgressor   n. 犯法者；违背者
17. have a stake in与…利害攸关   
stake [steik] n. 利害关系
18. propel   v. 推动，推进
19. initiative  n. 首创精神；进取心
20. patrimony  n. 继承物；遗产
21. uphold  v. 坚持，维持
22. sibling  n. 同胞；兄弟姐妹
23. esteem   n. 尊敬，尊重