When I was 24 years old, a phone call changed my life.

It was the spring of 1978; the call was from my father. The small public relations firm he started 26 years before was now a growing company with 10 offices. I was a recent business school graduate with plans to go to work for a consumer package goods company, Playtex, as an associate brand manager in order to prepare myself for a career in corporate America. I was going to make my own way, just like my dad had done.

My dad told me that he had been approached by ad agency Doyle Dane and Bernbach, which sought to acquire Edelman. He told me that he did not want to sell the firm and that he wanted me to try public relations for at least a year to give him the incentive to carry on as an entrepreneur.

I had a very specific choice to make: the family business or the corporate career I had planned on. And it was clear that this choice would not only affect my life, but my father’s as well.

I could have worked in a company that was far larger than my father’s. In fact, I did internships at First National Bank of Chicago, Bell & Howell, Standard Oil of Indiana and Swift & Company. I had experiences in marketing, customer relations and finance. But, a number of political fights (and even a disagreement with a security guard on how late I was permitted to stay in the office) gave me hesitance. My final warning came in 1973 from my Harvard roommate Scott McNealy, whose father was #2 at American Motors. Mr. McNealy had the bad fortune of introducing a new small car that had poor gas mileage just in time for the first oil embargo and was promptly terminated by the CEO. My conclusion from all of this was maybe I should follow an entrepreneurial path.

I considered a career in politics. At an early age, I was introduced to politicians by my parents, who entertained and raised money for campaigns, including the very chic Pierre Cardin scarf that said “Percy for Senator” that my mother envisaged in 1972. I volunteered in the Senate campaign of Adlai Stevenson III, licking envelopes for the direct mail flyers. I was sent to a quite challenging neighborhood to register new voters and remember distinctly running for my life when a German Shepherd answered one of my doorbell rings. I organized Young People for Jim Thompson in his gubernatorial race in 1978.

Opportunities in corporate America and politics were exciting to me, and decidedly different from the Edelman legacy I had grown up with. As a boy, I met so many of the spokespeople my father worked with, including Orville Redenbacher of gourmet popping corn fame and the Toni Twins. I had dinner with the owners of Sara Lee and ReaLemon. I even appeared as a model in the Brunswick annual report, in my little league baseball uniform with a McGregor glove.

Beyond the shared experiences, there was loyalty to my father and to the family. He had worked tirelessly, with his trademark felt pen, editing proposals and press releases late into the night. He traveled endlessly, particularly to California and New York City, making sure that the clients were treated well. He had endless ambition, dragging my siblings and me along on trips to check out the possibilities in international markets such as Paris. And somehow I knew that the relationship that had been rather tense and formal, him setting high standards and me trying to meet them, might morph into more one of equals if I were able to prove myself in the company.

I chose to join Edelman. My father rejected the acquisition offer. It was now, truly, a family company.

In July 2012, after 16 years of me as CEO of the firm, my father told me he needed to speak with me after his 92nd birthday party. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “I think it is time that you take over. You have done an excellent job.” I responded that I had been running the firm for the past 16 years. He replied, “Yes but I mean really take over now. You are ready.” I laughed and chalked it up to just another coaching experience. When he fell mortally ill a month later, I was so pleased that we had the conversation.

At age 60, I have no regrets about my career choice. I have been fortunate to be part of an exciting entrepreneurial adventure, and help build a family business that will go on into the third generation.

Richard Edelman is president and CEO.