Don Winkler admits to "backward" thinking. People like Winkler, with the impairment called dyslexia, tend to see some alphabet letters backwards and possess other related tendencies.

But the 50-year-old Phillipsburg native has offered forward-thinking innovation in just about every job he's had - not despite his condition but because of it. In the past five years, Winkler has built the finance arm of Banc One Corp., known as Finance One Corp., to $28 billion in assets.

Unable to form mental pictures naturally, Winkler compensates for the impairment of dyslexia by questioning everything he sees.

"I have to use every tool I have," says the ever-positive Winkler, speaking from his office in Columbus, Ohio, where he lives.

About one in seven people is affected by a learning disability, with dyslexia among the most common, says Susan Brickley, Marketing and public relations director with the International Dyslexia Association in Baltimore.

But one strength found in some dyslexics is the "ability to think of the big picture," adds Brickley.

That's been Winkler's talent for years - an innate ability to draw from people deep insights they never thought possible.

Winkler calls it "breakthrough thinking," advising and practicing verbal tips such as failure is a stepping stone to success. He advises people to substitute the word "and" for "but" to recast negatives in a positive light.

He even has a toll-free telephone number - 800-422-WINK - which encourages colleagues to phone in ideas. He also feels out ideas from anyone.

"I don't care what the person's background is," says Winkler. "I'm a dyslexic."

Winkler grew up on Phillipsburg's Union Square, where his parents, the late Alice Fielding Winkler and Richard A. Winkler Sr., owned a grocery store named Dick's Confectionery.

Young Don would join his older brothers in running the business, becoming groomed in the hard-work ethic. "Most times...the store was open seven days a week," recalls Winkler. "You were expected to work every day."

Winkler didn't know he had dyslexia until he was a college sophomore. He graduated from Phillipsburg High School with high marks in the math courses but essentially was relegated to lower-level reading groups.

"I cherish the letter 'O.' You know why? It can't change," Winkler says. "Small b's and d's change all the time."

He also grew up feeling inferior. Some people used to tease him about being in the lower-level reading group. Others thought he was being funny, or that he was mentally retarded. Though belittled, Winkler received support from his parents and friends. His mother hired tutors. His minister allowed him to keep a church hymnal at home to study the lyrics.

Several schoolmates - including Jim Bellis, Joe Lissi, Kenny Scher, Scott and Melody Curzi, and Bill and Shirley Dukett - either tutored him or included Winkler as part of their group to keep him from becoming socially withdrawn.

Bellis, of Riegelsville, expected Winkler to succeed in something, with his electronics and technical know-bow. Winkler's math ability led him to an aptitude in electronics. He fixed every television and toaster in his neighborhood, earning college money.

But Bellis never envisioned his high school classmate as a banker.

Neither did Winkler, he concedes. Citibank recruited him in 1976 during a binge of hiring from outside the banking industry. That took him to Citibank posts in Greece and Italy, and the man made his mark in both countries. When a Citibank affiliate in Greece was sinking fast on poor customer service, Winkler moved the president's desk from an upper-story office into the middle of the main-floor lobby.

"People were having to wait 15 to 20 minutes for a simple transaction," Winkler recalls. "I said (to the Citibank president), 'We'll take your big desk and try the concept of customer service by letting you make decisions there.'"

Profits soared 5,000 percent during the next five years, according to Winkler.

Five years ago. Banc One hired him to run the consumer-lending affiliate called Finance One. He has since stayed in Columbus, married to his second wife, Deborah Winkler. He and his first wife, the former Carol Fellock, had two children, George, 28, and Jennifer, 26.

During his business career, Winkler found himself immersed in ways to incorporate his dyslexia into his business life.

"I sat down 20 years ago and said my purpose in life is to get people to think smarter, to let people ask questions, which leads to breakthrough thinking," says Winkler.

Winkler also has a way of connecting with people. At his first management job with General Instrument Corp., Winkler's close contact with workers helped him drive down the cost of making semiconductor chips from several dollars to a few cents.

"It was such a savior, they asked me, 'What job do you want?' " recalls Winkler, who found himself working at General Instrument plants in Taiwan and Scotland. "My claim to fame was getting the cost of a calculator chip down."

"The thing that helped him is knowing his roots," says Bellis, his Phillipsburg classmate who still keeps in touch with Winkler. "He is a good guy."

A recent profile in The Wall Street Journal contained the headline that Winkler credited his success to mastering dyslexia. That's not entirely true, he says. "You can't overcome (dyslexia)," says Winkler. "You can compensate."

Reprinted with permission from The Express-Times of Easton, PA.