A business lesson from Dad

My dad and his brothers had a meat packing business for many years in Williamsport, Pa. The plant mostly smoked hams, but occasionally it would do up a loin or a tray of ham hocks on special order. Dad was vice president for sales and spent many an hour at his desk, phoning grocery stores from New England to Florida (and sometimes beyond) to build relationships and drum up business.

Some of his customers were chains, but many were mom and pop operations like the store owned and operated by "Bob" in Mobile, Alabama. Dad would call Bob every week or so. The conversation would go something like this:

Dad: Hey Bob, Dave from Harrison's. How the heck are ya?

Bob: Hey, Dave from Harrison's, I'm fine. How's the family?

Dave: Family's fine, Bob. Thanks for asking. Yours?

Finally, the question

This Mayberryesque exchange conversation would go on for about ten minutes till Dad finally got around to The Big Ask.

Dad: So Bob…how's the ham situation?

Bob: We're pretty happy with our guy right now. But thanks for calling.

Dad: No problem, Bob. I'll talk to you next time.

Bob: Take care Dave.

Dave: Take care Bob.

Something happened

This dance went on for years. Then something happened. Dad needed knee replacement surgery. By this time Dad was the only brother left in the business, but he ran it as well as he could. He closed it down with the hope he would reopen it when his knee was 100 percent.

But the surgery never quite took. So when Dad was at last able to get around, he was confronted with the unenviable task of closing a business that had started with his father's corner store in Jersey Shore, Pennsylvania back in the 1920s.

One of Dad's first tasks was to go through several months of phone messages. Finally he got to Bob's message.

"Hey Dave, this is Bob. Haven't heard from you in a while. Hope you're OK. Listen, our distributor went out of business recently and I'm ready to give Harrisons a try. Give me a call."

In the many times I've heard this story, not once did Dad say whether they talked afterwards. I suspect they did and probably had a laugh about it.

What Dad did tell me was that he learned an important lesson that day: Never give up. Because even if it's not working when you want it to work, it may work in the future.

Dad's been gone for almost four years, but I think of that lesson constantly, especially now that I'm a freelance writer. On those dark days when I'm ready to throw in the towel and take a nine-to-five job, I remember: Don't give up. If not today, then tomorrow someone somewhere may need your services— if you're available.♦


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