In March 2006, National Public Radio interviewed a woman in a New Orleans area devastated by Hurricane Katrina. She stood in her parents' ruined home and talked about her desire to rebuild in this neighborhood, even though she knew another storm could come along and destroy it all again. Obviously, she's crazy.

Or is she?  

Maybe she's human. Her explanation for her decision was something like, "If this were just a house I'd bought, I wouldn't stay. But it was my parents' home for 26 years. I grew up here."  

She wanted to stay because of the emotional ties she felt to the house. It wasn't just four walls on a flood plain. It was her childhood home. For her, it held far more than mildewed linoleum: it held memories.  

Emotion isn't "sensible." It doesn't follow logic. What it does do is grab us by the heart and jerk us off our feet, forcing us to do things no one in their "right mind" would do. It's one of the most powerful forces on the planet, and if you can tug your prospects' emotions in the right direction, they'll be yours in less time than it takes to say "Smokey the Bear."  

Perhaps you know Smokey's story.  

In 1950, he was living happily with his mother in the forests of New Mexico's Capitan Mountains. One bright spring day, a fire spotter reported smoke and within hours, forest rangers, civilians and soldiers were shoulder-to-shoulder, battling a furious wildfire. As soon as they beat it back, it would jump the line and roar off again, devouring everything in its way. A bear cub was reported wandering alone in the area, but they couldn't spare anyone to rescue it.  

A group of soldiers got caught directly in the fire's path. Their only chance was the possible shelter of an outcropping of rocks, and prayer.    

Once the firestorm blew past, they spotted the tiny black bear up in the charred remnants of a tree—frightened, badly burned, and alone.  

Carefully, they eased the terrified little orphan out of the tree and got him to a veterinarian, who cared for his wounds. But no one knew what to do with him. He was too small to be let back into the wild.  

The National Forest Service had introduced "Smokey the Bear" to the nation in 1944, putting him on a series of posters that captured the public's attention. The New Mexico State Game Warden presented the cub to the NFS on the condition that he would become the living centerpiece in their program for fire prevention and safety. He was placed in the Washington D.C. Zoo, where he quickly became its most popular exhibit.

Now, 60 years later, Smokey lives on, a symbol of our forests and the important role each of us plays in their continued living beauty because we... me... YOU... are the only ones... who can prevent forest fires.

That's quite a story. Can you smell the smoke? Feel the burn in your lungs as you stand there exhausted, soaked with sweat under the New Mexico sun? Can't you see that helpless, hurting little animal... bewildered and dazed, with no idea of what is happening to him?

The next time you finish toasting your s'mores and are packing up to go, I'll bet the memory of Smokey's trusting brown eyes will get you to toss a lot more sand on your campfire than you would if I'd quoted a bunch of statistics at you about how many acres went up in flames last year. Emotion is a powerful tool. Put it to work for your business.