Planning My Comeback

There was urgency for me to make some income. I did not have the luxury of a long recovery period.

I was able to get an appointment with the president of a large manufacturer of a private label for men’s suits in Baltimore. After explaining my situation, I told him what I had gone through as a small manufacturer. He resonated with what I had to say because they were facing the same issue, but on a much larger scale. I offered to help get some of his products produced overseas. I had the necessary knowledge and skills. However, his was a family business that had been acquired by a large conglomerate. The new, young president of the conglomerate was overwhelmed. My host did not believe the home office would approve of such strategic steps.

However, there was a leather manufacturing unit of the company that was also in trouble, he said. My help might be of value to them. By the end of the afternoon, he called the president of the leather company and introduced me.

Although I had considerable insight when it came to men’s clothing, I did not have one iota of knowledge about leather manufacturing. I checked Chicago’s yellow pages and randomly picked the name of one leather tanning company and asked to speak with the president. I told him my situation as honestly as I could. I asked if I could visit his operation and get some idea about the leather industry.

He listened patiently and when I stopped talking, there was a long silence.

“You have to be dumb as hell to ask me to help you to help my competitor. Why would I be so stupid?” his voice roared over the phone.

“Outsourcing is killing our business,” he said.  “Did you know I am the president of our industrial association and we exist to fight people just like you. Do you think I am that stupid?”

His harangue went on for several long minutes. I realized that my random call had landed me straight in the heart of a hornets’ nest. I told him so and we both laughed.

His voice dropped to a lower pitch.

“Hey, listen, if you are ever in Chicago, come and see me. I might learn something from you. I will buy you lunch.”

I suggested a date and time and showed up at his office as scheduled. He was a tall man with a firm handshake, who talked loud and fast. His whole persona exuded energy. After some perfunctory chatter, he offered to show me his plant.

Immediately upon entering the plant, I smelled an awful odor. I realized that smell did not just attack my nose, it permeated my whole being. On the spot, I decided I would not have anything to do with that industry. No money was worth it. But I was there and had to live through it.

Step by step, he started to show me the manufacturing process—how the hides are unloaded, stocked, processed etc. At one point, I reminded him I did not want to take advantage of our friendship and acquire any trade secrets. He leaned his back on a large piece of machinery and told me that after talking to me, he had checked the company I was going to visit. They were not his competitors, he said. Since he dealt in cow hides and they processed sheep and goat skins for glove manufacturing, he did not mind sharing the information with me.

He told me his business had been run the same way since his grandfather started it after he emigrated from Europe. Now, because of effluent problems, the industry was being forced to transform. He wanted to learn from people like me about what others might be doing.

“I’m learning, too,” he said.

We broke for lunch at a nearby deli. He confided that after our first conversation, he had made up his mind to help me if I showed up.

“What was it that changed your mind?” I asked.

“Your chutzpah!” he replied.