Shane Parrish

When a marketing employee swiped a trademark from Coca-Cola, Harrison sold it back for $1.

We are not goddamn crooks, he said.

How could we make money on that?

He didn't even consider it.

These ideas sound simple because they are, but knowing them isn't the same as doing them every single day for decades.

And the last chapter of Harrison's life reveals the most about who he was.

Harrison McCain lived by the rules of the market, except when it came to a small town in Florenceville.

He kept the company headquarters there when everyone said to move to Toronto.

He insisted that the data center and the potato technology center be built there too.

A journalist once asked him why he stayed.

His answer, because I like it.

The journalist pushed, but why do you stay here?

Is it the scenery?

Harrison repeated, I like it here.

And then he pointed out that the McCains had been there since the 1820s.

That was the end of the conversation.

He genuinely liked farmers and farming.

Employees told stories of his habit of stopping his car on country roads to watch a crop being planted or harvested.

He'd get out, talk to the workers, tell them what a great job they were doing and thank them.

Potato farmers to Harrison were the salt of the earth.