No. 6: The Ghost of Christmas Future

One of the most commonly asked questions so far in the early stages of this new book and website launch has been along the lines of “So what’s with the dark, industrial gears in the background (along with one timepiece, to be fair) on a website, and on two book covers, for professional service providers?”

By way of explanation, one short answer, and a longer story that will provide some background into my advice and goals and any bias. First of all, on the marketing front, how many websites that you’ve visited in the past month had a background or imagery that you remembered or cared enough to ask about?! That’s certainly a benefit, but not the logic or reasoning for my choice. So, let me tell you the story.

I didn’t go straight into college after high school. I just wasn’t ready for more school when I graduated in 1977 even though I had college credits on my high school transcript – I really wanted the option, but… I was also strongly influenced by my circle of older friends and colleagues (consequences of having two much older sisters), who in the early 1970s, in the upper midwest, commonly found a job for life at a local factory that paid enough to support a small family in a nice house on a nice lot with two cars and the promise of a pension on retirement. I don’t know if that’s what I specifically wanted, but that is exactly what my Mom told me to do in no uncertain terms. It was what I saw almost everyone else doing. In those days, at the company I worked for, there were 600 total employees (about evenly divided between management and labor) and less than 20 people, all in, had four-year college degrees. In that part of the country at that time, that was normal.  

As I started to figure out this part of my world, I took a job in our small town of 21,000 people at a time when there were few, good options in a northern Indiana, southern Michigan, industrial area 45 minutes from Gary, Indiana, just to set the stage. Que the cold winters and smoggy skies and the smell of foundry smoke in the air much of the year. Out of high school, I worked in huge, old industrial buildings – great factories that were no more. This was the start of a new era where high school students could no longer, for the first time in decades, sign on with Whirlpool, US Steel, Bethlehem Steel, Roll Coater, New York Blower, Allis Chalmers, etc., and work for 30 years and retire on a pension and call it good. Like a mirage, that choice just disappeared right in front of me.

There are numerous references in the new book, Building With the End in Mind, about learning to use your business machinery to make things work for multiple generations of ownership. Making these gears turn and work for everyone involved is the underlying theme, even if for a different time and group of people.

I remember walking through the empty factories in our small town as our work crew sought to finish the shutdown procedures and stabilize the buildings as everyone in town waited, in vain, for the next factory to come and bring many new, great paying jobs like in decades past. It just never happened. I remember thinking that this is how the big manufacturing businesses end, along with the machinery and gears that sat there rusting away, and I knew then and there that I wanted no part of this work world. If such large and powerful factories could fail so commonly, and completely, where was one to work for a good, stable living? And I think it was then and there, that the notion of owning and running my own small business took root and never left me. I wanted to be in control of my own future – and I wanted to sell knowledge, not boxes of widgets that had to be manufactured and shipped.

When I finally did go to college, with a mechanic’s certification in hand (hence the gears on the new book covers), I was incredibly well-motivated. I was never going to go back. I finished at Purdue (an institution that used a 6.0 grading scale back in the day) with a 5.98/6.00 GPA, while working almost full time on the side, winning numerous writing awards and scholarships along the way (I know, an English major at an engineering school). I wanted that education, the compensation, and the freedom of choice I knew it could bring. And then law school followed and the next chapter of life unfolded. Professional services opened up the future for me like a bright, shining light.

Looking back, I’ll never forget the big, old, dirty, red brick, empty and dark factories of my youth and the course it set me on as I looked in the rear view mirror any time I needed some motivation. I loved learning about how things work, or didn’t work. As one gear turned another in good, prosperous times, I saw one thing fail, and that led to another, and another. Businesses may not last forever, but they also shouldn’t die out after one generation of ownership. That is something you and I have control over; we, as individuals, get to make the final decisions unlike a single worker in a factory of 600.

I hope to help you find the path forward and give the next generation a real chance to step in, and step up; pass on the wisdom that you have in a teacher/student, or mentor/employee relationship every day. Don’t let your business die.  

As for the new website theme, dark and gritty is what I was aiming for, with a ray of light and hope thrown in, kind of like the ghost of Christmas yet to come (I’m a Dickens’ guy!). That ray of light is knowledge and, to me, that knowledge comes from books. I love to read books, and I love to write them. I hope you enjoy the words and any glimmer of light you might find.

Thanks for listening,

David Sr.