The Solace of the Unknown

Twenty years ago, Matthew Laird set out on a driftless journey to find his path in life. Now the successful financial advisor and family man reflects on the moments that shaped him 

Words by Al Blanton | Images by Blakeney Clouse

Inside a rustic farmhouse just a few hundred yards away from the woods of his boyhood, Matthew Laird cradles a morning coffee. Light is pouring in from a nearby window, illuminating his mobile office formed neatly across a small kitchen table. There is a laptop, an accordion file stuffed with paperwork, and much work to be done. The unpainted wooden walls surrounding him, the creaky floors and stacks of logs on the porch outside emit a cabin-like charm. Once owned by his grandmother, this placid home-turned-workspace has remained in the his family through the years and serves as his retreat and respite when the bustle of the city grows a bit too loud. 

This morning our subject’s appearance is the perfect blend of town and country: he is unshaved and wears a basic blue button down, a pair of old khakis and muddy ropers. Although he has breached the ripe old age of forty, he is still relatively young looking, an older relic of the longer-haired boy who used to run so freely and happily through those nearby woods. The years have seemed to settle him, and in a brief conversation one does not get the sense that as he approaches middle age he is burdened by any sense of unrest or unending regret. He is a family man now, but admittedly there are times when the boy will come out. And if you’re lucky, he’ll introduce you to him. 

Growing up in Jasper was an idyllic time for Matthew. He was a vibrant boy who was raised in church and loved going outside, the nearby woods furnishing an array of games for imaginative neighborhood children. “I spent most of the waking hours in the woods just outside this house with the kids up and down this street,” Matthew remembers. “We rode bikes. We played hide-and-go-seek. We played War. We ran around for hours and hours and hours.” 

These are the frames he remembers each time he visits the farmhouse. 

Matthew had myriad pursuits, but he was particularly interested in the Boy Scouts. Some of the fondest memories he had as a child were fashioned at Camp Horne in Cottondale, Alabama, and as he continued through the scouting ranks, his parents nudged him to go for his Eagle, which he obtained in 1995. 

After graduating from Walker High School later that year, he set out into the world with no particular destination in mind. Like many from this area, he chose to simply “walk across the street” and attend Walker College. But he found out quickly about the debits and credits of the college balance sheet, and soon he was taking out more than he was putting in. “I spent the first 18 months of college probably having a little more fun than I should, not studying as much,” he admits. 

His father, none too pleased, gave a stern warning in between semesters. “Dad came to me and said, ‘if you don’t start studying, this is the last one I’m going to pay for.’ In my mind I did the math and realized what he was investing in my education and what path I needed to be on. I soon found the library, a building on campus that I hadn’t spend a whole lot of time in prior to that,” Matthew said. 

So for the first time in his college life, he began to hit the books. He admits that studying was a grind, but with repetition he could retain the information he needed for tests. His grades slowly began to improve, and the kid bursting with potential began to walk down a more productive path. 

Matthew spent three years at Walker College and at the time probably wondered why he was unconventionally anchored at that two-year institution. At least one of the reasons, he found, was the girl in the red Honda Civic who kept passing by as Matthew circulated campus every day. After some digging around, Matthew discovered that he and this particular lady had mutual friends who could serve as the perfect segue into a conversation and, hopefully, a date. “I asked if someone would get me her number and at first she said no. I continued to press and a couple of weeks later, she said yes. We talked, went on a few dates, and now we’ve been married for almost 19 years,” Matthew says of his wife, Ashley. “So you wonder why you end up a third year at a two-year college. I know part of it is because I goofed off in Year 1 and half of Year 2, but the other part is, I wouldn’t have met her otherwise.” 

Shortly after Matthew and Ashley became a couple, Matthew transferred to the University of Alabama while Ashley stayed in Jasper as a student at UAB Walker College. They navigated the long-distance challenges of the relationship until Ashley joined him in Tuscaloosa. 

At Alabama, Matthew expected a career in forestry to be a natural extension of his love for scouting, but there were two problems. First, Alabama summers were markedly hotter when you were working instead of having fun, and two, a forestry major required a science education that, let’s just say was not his particular cup of tea. 

With forestry now in his rearview, he considered practicing law (this was the profession in which his father had excelled and one his brother had been led to as well) and decided to test the waters by securing an internship with a local judge. But, as he saw the practice of law from a different slant, he began to wonder if law school was the right move after all.

He began to solicit advice from different people and soon a pair of respected mentors, Ethan Copeland and Scott Simpson, suggested he consider the financial services industry. Ethan and Scott eventually helped Matthew to get an internship at Regions Investment Company in Tuscaloosa, and for the next few months, Matthew served as a glorified runner, getting sandwiches, picking up the partners’ dry cleaning, running errands and whatnot. Occasionally, he would answer the phones and interact with clients, but for the most part it was grunt work. “I knew something was special about it,” Matthew says. “I was going to stay around until either they took away my key or started paying me to do what I do.” 

That sacrifice bore fruit and Matthew was hired as an assistant at the same company in June 2000. For the next 13 months, he learned the basics of the industry, interacted with clients on a more regular basis, and obtained the requisite licensures he needed to become viable in the profession and eventually move up the corporate ladder. 

In the meantime, he and Ashley got married and the big city called. Matthew was offered a job at AmSouth Investment Services in Birmingham, an opportunity that changed the trajectory of his career. 

To make things work logistically for his new job, Ashley and Matthew mutually agreed that each party would commute for six months while Ashley finished school at Alabama. They eventually posted up at a little spot in Pelham, where they commenced their working lives. 

Scott continued to serve as a mentor to Matthew, teaching him all the ropes of the profession, things like business integrity, the importance of interacting with clients, and how to clearly explain how the firm provides services. “He taught me almost everything I needed to know,” Matthew says. “He’s still a good friend, still a co-worker. We still collaborate weekly, if not daily.” 

Through the years the business cards changed as financial institutions in which Matthew worked were bought out, but the relationships with the clients remained essentially the same. Now Matthew serves as Managing Director and Senior Vice President of Investments for Riverpeak Partners for Raymond James. Much of Matthew’s work is with families and institutions, providing comprehensive financial planning services, investment management services, and a laundry list of other related services. He stresses the relational nature of his job and that most of his business relationships are not of the short-term but involve a longer play—as he says, “how do we partner with you and work with you for the next 10, 15, 20 years?” 

In 2005, Matthew and Ashley welcomed a son, Brant. Five years later, his younger brother, Wyn, arrived. It is clear that Matthew adores his children and deeply values his role as their father. Both boys have taken a liking to hockey, a sport which Matthew had no affiliation with growing up in Jasper. To get a handle on this game, he’s had to ask plenty of questions to strangers at the rink and learn obscure terminology like “icing” and “face-off.” And, as the boys have participated in several travel tournaments that have taken them to places like Columbus, Ohio; Charleston, South Carolina; and Montreal, Canada; hockey has indeed become an affair for the entire family.

Matthew says that he and Ashley have negotiated the skinned knees and varying trials of parenthood to raise two terrific boys, who, at times, teach them lessons. “When you completely goof or you’ve had a long day and things go off the rails, both of my kids seem to be far more forgiving than I am on myself,” Matthew says. “I love spending time with them.” 

In addition to raising the two boys, Matthew and Ashley serve as youth directors at their church, the Church at Cahaba Bend in Helena. For a while, the pair felt led to serve as volunteers; they were happy to grab pizzas or chaperone the occasional mission trip. Two-and-a-half years ago, when the youth director left to plant his own church, Matthew was taken aback when someone suggested that he and Ashley take over as the church’s youth directors. As the couple began to pray about it, they felt God leading them to accept the position. “Ashley does all the lessons…and I handle the communication side, keeping things organized and dealing with parents,” Matthew says. “It’s been a journey.”  

The Lairds love to take a break from “big city” life by spending time at their quiet place in Walker County, and only God knows where their journey will take them over the next 10, 15, 20 years. The future may be uncertain, but not the one who holds it. 

Matthew understands that, much like finance, there are no guarantees in life and only a few choose to invest in the unexpected. But as he has learned, sometimes the real richness of life is found amid the spontaneous, unplanned moments, the volatility, the turns and falls. It’s found in a father’s admonishment when his son is struggling at college, in a mentor who guides you through your professional career, in an unanticipated opportunity to share Jesus with a group of impressionable youth, in time spent with your boys at, of all places, the hockey rink. 

And it’s found in a pretty girl who drives by unexpectedly in a red Honda Civic. 

Perhaps these are the things he ponders at the farmhouse, just a few hundred yards away from the woods of his boyhood. And even if he could, he wouldn’t want anyone to tell him how his life is going to turn out. 

After all, there’s no imagination in that. 78