Earlier this year, at the age of 95, the greatest investor in history officially retired as Berkshire Hathaway’s CEO.
In 2006, I was a broke college kid at Michigan State University in East Lansing. Drowning in student debt. Studying finance. Dreaming about what it would take to be great.
One day my friend, Simon, had a crazy idea: “Let’s meet Warren Buffett.”
We laughed. Then, he actually picked up the phone and dialed the number in Berkshire Hathaway’s annual report.
And somehow, Buffett actually said yes.
Buffett didn’t just agree to meet us. He invited our group of students to spend an entire day with him in Omaha. We began at Berkshire Hathaway’s headquarters before he walked us through the Nebraska Furniture Mart and showed us Borsheims, his local jewelry store.
Following our morning meetings, Buffett offered to drive a few of us to Gorat’s Steakhouse for lunch.
When his older Lincoln sedan pulled up, we were stunned. This unassuming car couldn’t possibly belong to one of the wealthiest people on Earth.
But there he was. Moving us along, he said to hurry up, as he was hungry for his usual T-bone steak and Cherry Coke.
Some of us piled in. Others followed behind.
And that’s when I saw it: the license plate on Buffett’s car. “THRIFTY.”
Throughout the day, I had the opportunity to ask Buffett many questions. During our exchange, he gave me two pieces of advice I’ve carried every single day since.
The first came when I asked, “Mr. Buffett, you’re celebrated across the world for your investing acumen; what would you say is your greatest non-financial achievement?”
He lit up.
“Christopher, everyone talks about my financial success. But the thing I’m most proud of? The culture I’ve created at Berkshire Hathaway. That culture has created all of my wealth. It’s the single biggest reason for Berkshire’s success.”
He added: “When I go to acquire a business, all I have to do is talk to the owner. They know how we operate. They know our values. We shake hands. The deal is done. No attorneys. No investment bankers fighting over terms. Just trust. Our culture is everything.”
I was 21 years old. I didn’t fully understand what he meant.
Today, as a founder of a wealth management team advising on more than $2 billion of client assets, I get it.
Every day when I lead The Pine Harbor Group in Bloomfield Hills, I think about Buffett’s words: Values; Trust; Real relationship capital; Culture shows up in how we serve the families of our clients, how I hire, how I hold myself accountable, and how, as a team, we take care of each other.
It’s the fertile soil that produces all the fruit we harvest.
Culture isn’t what we say. It’s what we do when no one’s watching. It’s what we tolerate and define ourselves by. It’s the trust and reputation built over decades of hard work.
The second piece of advice came when Buffett asked what I planned to do following graduation.
I told him, “wealth management.”
Without hesitation, he immediately leaned forward. He was (and remains) famously skeptical of wealth managers.
“Never, ever, have clients. You may call them that, but in your mind, they must be partners. Set it up so if they win, you win, in that order. If you do that, you’ll be successful forever.”
That moment laid the foundation of how I built my career.
I’ve never seen Pine Harbor as simply managing assets. We partner with families navigating the most important financial moments of their lives — selling a business, transitioning wealth, and building something for the next generation.
My job is to create real value: tax efficiencies that preserve wealth, risk strategies that protect what they’ve built, and investment access they wouldn’t have on their own.
When our work helps a client capture meaningful tax savings on a business sale or structure a wealth strategy that benefits multiple generations, that’s when we’ve lived up to our “Buffett Principle.”
When they win, we win.
That’s it. And it has always been that way because of the advice I received from Buffett.
But here’s the best part — the lasting lesson to a question I didn’t ask.
As our day ended and Buffett drove away in that beige Lincoln, I stood there thinking about my own car. I had just bought a Pontiac GTP — on debt, of course. But I was proud of it. To a 21-year-old awash in student loans, that car represented everything I thought winning looked like. It was shiny, fast, and attention-grabbing. Although silly in hindsight, it was my first true “flex.”
And I had just watched a man worth $80 billion pull away in a car that I’d be ashamed to drive.
Buffett could buy anything on Earth. But he found joy in the simple things. He wasn’t defined by his money; he was defined by his principles.
That moment completely rewired my brain.
True success isn’t what you own; it’s what you value and how you live by it. That’s what I took away from Omaha 20 years ago. Not investment strategy. Not portfolio construction.
This is what I learned: Build a culture worth protecting. Treat people like partners. And never mistake what you own for who you are.
That’s what greatness looks like to me now.
Mr. Buffett, on your retirement, I celebrate your remarkable achievement and the countless lives you’ve changed as the greatest investor of all time.
But more than anything, I thank you for your time, your generosity, and your willingness to spend a day with a group of scrappy Michigan State students who found inspiration in your wisdom and humility.
The lessons you gave me that day shaped the last 20 years of my career, and they will continue to shape the rest of my life.
Christopher T.R. Letts is the co-founder and managing partner of the Pine Harbor Group in Bloomfield Hills, a boutique-like practice within Morgan Stanley.
