When we moved from Michigan to Rockville, Sue and I knew almost nothing about marketing. When the business was closed over three decades later, we knew a lot more. Unfortunately, at least half of what we had learned was probably wrong.
In Detroit Sue had depended on IBM for referrals. When we moved we learned that the branch offices had no specific policy on this. Each salesperson knew a few of the independent software companies. Since no one in the Hartford office knew us, it was folly to depend on IBM in Connecticut.
The first year or so was the only time in the first three decades of the company’s existence that I had time on my hands. I wrote a little system on the 5120 to keep track of leads. I got most of my information from the Yellow Pages in the reference room of the Hartford Public Library.
I definitely remember sending a letter to the area’s jewelry stores. I think that we also sent one to construction companies. I do not remember how we did these exactly. Perhaps I just wrote a program on the 5120 to print letters with data from the lead tracking system. It seems unlikely that we had letterhead and company envelopes with our Rockville address yet.
I think that we got the lead for the Harstans account from the jewelry store mailing. I don’t remember any responses from anything in the construction industry. If we received any inquiries, Sue would have dealt with them.
I found a business card from the Detroit days in our basement.
After we had purchased a Datamaster with a letter-quality printer, we converted the lead tracking system to run on the new machine. We also invested in company letterhead and web-mounted company invoices. Both were Nantucket grey with light blue lettering. The TSI was striped in imitation of IBM’s logo, but we used a sans serif font.
We definitely did several mailings to ad agencies. Potter Hazlehurst responded to the first mailing. Other mailings may have at least produced a few lukewarm leads.
We received two free pieces of publicity. The GrandAd installation at Harland-Tine was featured in Basic Society News. This was described here. The other article, an interview with Dick Keiler, was published a few years later in AdWeek New England. It is described here.
We also bought our only ad ever in the same issue of that magazine. It was a waste of money.
By 1983 we began to get quite a few leads from IBM. We closed many of these deals, but most required significant custom programming and offered virtually no opportunity for additional business. What we wanted to sell were ad agency systems that took advantage of work that we had already done.
We participated in a campaign organized by a marketing manager at IBM to allow its salesmen to promote “IBM Advertising Agency Solutions.” He asked the third-party developers of ad agency software to provide a list of how their software could benefit ad agencies. Someone then took all of these items, assembled and sorted them all into one huge list, and put them into an attractive fold-out piece in which each of these advantages was claimed for “IBM solutions.”
Of course, no system marketed by anyone actually did all of those things, and some of the advantages were incompatible with others. Furthermore, none of the names of the companies that marketed and supported the software were included. The pamphlet only mentioned “IBM solutions” until the very last paragraph, which stated, “When you combine the specialized capabilities of IBM Business Partner applications for advertising with the quality control, product support and service that accompanies IBM systems, you have a comprehensive and powerful solution. One that can meet the needs of your agency today—and continue to serve you and your clients tomorrow.”
I was very upset when they sent the finished product. Set aside the atrocious grammar of the last sentence fragment. Who will possibly use this piece? IBM reps could not (or at least should not) use it because it doesn’t indicate which business partner could address which problem. No ethical business partner could hand it out because the prospect might think that the software company was claiming all of these advantages for its own product. I suppose that if we were allowed to white-out the parts that did not apply to our systems, we might be able to use it, but it would not look too professional.
When I explained that this was false advertising because the “IBM solution” described within did not exist, he was taken aback. He honestly thought that we would all be happy just to be associated with IBM. I admitted that we were. However we were ALWAYS in competitive situations. We could not afford to be associated with erroneous claims like “IBM creative applications help your writers and artists work more efficiently.” Our software did not improve the efficiency of the creative staff one iota, and if we tried to get the writers and artists to trade in their Macs for IBM iron, we would be run out of the office on a rail.
In addition, there were a couple of advantages that were unique to our approach. Of course, I had listed them, and they appeared in the pamphlet. I resented that every other Business Partner was authorized to claim these advantages, if only implicitly, for its own software.
With the help of Ken Owen of the Edward Owen Company we developed some leave-behinds that were at least a little professional looking and much less likely to get us sued. We put the write-ups of various aspects of the system in notebooks that had the company’s name and logo on it. The first batch were blue with white lettering. Subsequently we reversed the color scheme.
When we gave presentations. we put all of the handouts in folder like the one shown at left. The cover was generic enough that we could use it for any of our software products.
Our mailings for the ad agency system included self-addressed prepaid bounce-back cards on which the recipient could indicate the agency’s interest in our product. This certainly increased the quantity of positive responses that we got, but it also meant that we needed to spend more time qualifying the leads.
By 1986 Sue and I were frustrated with our sales efforts. We had been in business for more than five years. We had amassed a reliable set of reference accounts, but we were still struggling just to meet our payroll.
Sue set up some kind of business relationship with a guy named Joe Danko. I think that he was a consultant who had somehow come across our GrandAd product. He wanted to be our representative in southeast New England. Since the proposed arrangement involved no investment on our part, we agreed to it.
Sue corresponded with a former IBM VAR (as we were) named Jim Holland, who had started a business in Colorado helping others selling “turnkey systems”. Sue liked his approach, but he sold his business to a company in Paramus, NJ, called Motivational Marketing1. He convinced us to drive there for a “Motivational Marketing Working Session” in January of 1987.
We drove to the company’s offices and met with, I think, one of the founders of the company, Gary Farber2. We told him that we were having trouble closing deals for our software system for advertising agencies. We thought that we needed to hire a salesman, but we were not sure how to do it. He outlined a plan for us. It seemed pretty costly and did not directly address the need for a salesman, but if we scored even one or two deals, it would be worth it.
Two guys from the marketing company came to our office in Rockville. The older guy was named Irving; the younger one was Nick Pitasi. They told us that the first step in their plan was to contact our clients to get a more objective view of TSI’s strengths and weaknesses. Nick called everyone on our list of clients. He reported back to us that our clients loved us, and they particularly liked the fact that we educated them. This was rather nice to hear, but we already knew that we had very good reference accounts. We had thought that we were not doing a good job of using this information to our advantage.
Since we had said that we needed a “closer”, and since we already had a relationship with Joe Danko, Irving invited him to our office to interview for the job of salesman. Irving conducted the interview in Sue’s office upstairs in Rockville. I sat in. Sue might have attended as well, but she doesn’t remember it.
I was astounded at how awful Joe’s performance was. Without being asked about it, he went on and on about his involvement in lawsuits over his divorce. I would never have considered hiring him to take out the trash.
After the interview Irving told us that he thought that Joe would be OK as our salesman. Perhaps we should have cut our losses at this point. Irving and Nick might be able to help us in some way, but they certainly seemed unwilling or unable to address what we considered our most critical problem.
Their next step was to hire someone to call the presidents of ad agencies. We had a pretty good list in our lead tracking system. By this time Nick was handling our account by himself. He engaged a guy named Paul Schrenker for this purpose. Nick wrote a script for him. I could not believe how many presidents talked with him when he asked for them by name. I would have bet that he would not reach any of them.
The only person who accepted Paul’s call and expressed any interest was Bill Ervin at O’Neal and Prelle in Hartford. I visited them a couple of times, and they eventually agreed to a contract. The story of that installation is here.
One day I observed Nick while he was calling one of the presidents. It was impressive. A secretary answered the phone. Nick said, “Put Bill on, please.” When the secretary asked who was calling, he just said with supreme confidence, “It’s Nick from TSI.” The president picked up the phone, and Nick talked with him. I certainly couldn’t have done this.
Nick dropped by the office a couple of times after that. He had been in the office enough to see how things were run. By then he was familiar with how Sue would miss appointments and how disorganized she was. On one occasion I asked him whether he thought that we could make a go of it. He said that he did not see how. What a depressing moment that was.
Maybe I should have given up at that point, but I had no plan B. I was almost forty years old. I had burned through several occupations already. I did not want to start over.
When I first started to work with Sue I figured that I would do most of the programming, and she would do the rest of the work. After all, she had much more experience in business than I did, and she loved to talk on the telephone. She was certainly much more of a “people person” and less of a tireless coder She could figure out how programs worked and fix them, but I had never seen her write so much as a single program.
That was not the way that things worked out. As the years went by I took on more and more of the responsibilities. By the late eighties she was doing the accounting and the payroll, and that was about all. Even so, she could not keep up with it. The answer was not increased staff. We went through as many administrative employees as Murphy Brown.
We needed help with sales. The marketing consultants were nearly as worthless as all the other consultants that we had dealt with. We needed to hire a salesman. We terminated our agreement with Motivational Marketing in February 1988.
On March 2, 1987 (Sue’s thirty-sixth birthday), we sent out out a newsletter to all of our clients. It was three pages of 10-pitch single-spaced type on 8½x11″ paper. Mostly it dealt with hardware, but there was also half a page of information about changes that we were making to the S/36 version of the GrandAd system.
I located copies of issues numbered 1 through 6. The fifth issue, dated March 29, 1988, reflects the influence of Michael Symolon, our first marketing director. The first page of this issue announces three new ad agency clients. In addition, the first page is printed on GrandAd stationery that Michael ordered rather than on TSI letterhead. A post-it note attached to the copy that I found indicated that I was slightly annoyed that the subsequent pages did not match the cover page in either color or weight.
This issue is really meaty. I think that Michael or Kate Behart must have done most of the work on this issue and the others in this format. Issue #5 contained six pages of text and a copy of an article from the November 30, 1987, issue of ADWEEK about the installation of the GrandAd system at Rossin, Greenberg, Seronick, and Hill.3
I do not remember how many issues of those newsletters we produced. After I purchased and taught myself how to use PageMaker, the name of the newsletter was changed to Sound Bytes from TSI. At first it was 8½x11″, but the later versions were printed on both sides of 8½x14″ paper and folded to be 8½x7″. They also contained two columns per page, different fonts, and graphics. I located only one copy of each of these formats.
The main purpose of most of the subsequent newsletters was to announce new AdDept clients or new modules developed for existing AdDept clients. There may have also been one focused on TSI’s Internet insertion order system, AxN.
1. I think that Motivational Marketing still exists, but it has now evolved into a call center located in Rochelle Park, NJ. Its website is here.
2. Gary Farber’s LinkedIn page is here.
3. Much more about Michael Symolon’s career at TSI can be read here. More about Kate Behart has been posted here. The description of the installation at RGS&G is here.
We knew what the Grail looked like, but finding it was another matter.
Systems that were designed and implemented to the specifications of each client were both fun and challenging. They were not, however, very profitable. From the beginning I was always on the lookout for a way to market one system to a dozen or more clients. It had to be a business that was unique but also substantial. Another limitation was geographic. In the early eighties there was no good way to support systems remotely. We therefore needed to concentrate on companies that were within relatively easy driving distance.
It wasn’t in the construction industry.
I realized the importance of finding such an industry in which to concentrate our efforts almost immediately. The search for this Holy Grail led us down several paths that turned out to be dead ends for various reasons.
When we first moved back to Connecticut we had not yet developed any significant software aimed at businesses. Sue had expertise working with the construction industry and IBM’s payroll package for those companies. Unfortunately, we did not have access to a list of IBM’s installations of this product.
I spent some time putting together a card file of construction companies in New England. I think that my source was the Yellow Pages in the Hartford Public Library. We may have even done a mailing to them. I am not sure that we had stationery and envelopes yet. In early 1981 the first class postage rate was only fifteen cents. So, we could have mailed to one hundred companies for $15. That was within our marketing budget.
At any rate, nothing came of this effort. For several years Sue continued to do work for those clients, but we got no new ones in any aspect of the construction field.
As soon as I had completed work on the software for Diamond Showcase (described here), I undertook research to find out how many small chains of jewelry stores there were in New England. I located very few indeed. Undaunted, I composed a letter that boasted of our success at Diamond Showcase. I only got one response.
Would you buy a jewelry inventory system from this guy?
Before my first interview with the president of Harstans Jewelers, Frank Sikorski1, and his wife (whose name and title I don’t remember), IBM had already announced the Datamaster. So, I had to persuade them to have faith not only in my ability to produce a system for them but also my recommendation that they buy a computer system that was just hitting the market. They also had to let us take delivery on the system. At the time I still looked like Tommy Chong (minus the headband and the ever-present joint), and my wardrobe was that of an impoverished grad student. Nevertheless, they agreed to our proposal.
Harstans was a family business, but there was no one with the surname of Harstans. Rather, it was a combination of the first names of Stanley Sikorski, Frank’s brother, and Harriet, Stanley’s wife. Stanley, I learned, operated a wholesale jewelry business in New York City that was the source of all of Harstans’ diamonds. Frank was the president; I am not sure what Harriet’s title was, but she was in charge of payroll and paying the bills. They used IBM’s payroll system for the former, but they did not like it. Eventually we installed the payroll system that we had written with some minor modifications.
The Harstans store in Hamden, CT. I could find no photos or mentions of the West Haven store.
The company’s offices were on the second floor above the West Haven store. There were four other Harstans stores at the time. Eventually they even opened one in the Enfield mall. I was never actually on the sales floors of any of these locations. I parked in a lot behind the West Haven store, entered through the back door, and took the stairs to the second floor.
Harstans insisted that we make one major enhancement. When a batch of new items had been entered, they wanted the system to print small tags for each one. The tags contained both the retail price of the item and the price that Harstans paid—in code. The code was BUICKSEDAN. B was 1, U was 2, etc. If they paid $523 for an item, the tag said KUI.
A Harstans ad in the Hartford Courant in 1991.
No customer paid the retail price on the tag either. The store had the peculiar policy of running a permanent half-off sale. So, if the tag said $350 the real price was $175. Competitors tried to force them to abandon this tactic, but for as long as we were associated with them, it persisted.
I visited Harstans many times over the years. Here are some of my most vivid memories.
Harstans had many customers from New York. The store, which was near I-95 and Route 1, did not charge these people sales tax, which was required for on-site retail sales. Harstans allowed these people to take the goods they bought home with them, but they also mailed them an empty box to prove that no exchange of money for goods had taken place on the site.
I locked my keys in my Celica once. I had to borrow a coat hanger to get in.
Harriet told Sue that she and her daughter had been at their house in Branford when some men broke in and tied them up. Some items were stolen, but no one was injured. The incident induced Harriet to buy a pistol and take shooting lessons. She always carried it in her purse after that.
I was working in the office in December when the store manager brought up a stack of bills from downstairs that was as thick as his fist. He wanted to count them in private. The first eight or ten were $100 bills. I stopped watching after that.
Frank asked me to give a speech at the Lions Club of West Haven. I told the attendees how much I liked my job. A few people asked me about horrible situations that they had had with their computers. In every case they had sent a boy to do a man’s job. Their computers were not designed for business applications.
Frank asked me to do something once that was almost certainly unethical. It involved writing a program that produced one page of printed output that looked vaguely like a computer-generated report—not one from our system—but actually contained fabricated numbers that he supplied.
The store, of course, had burglary alarms. I was occasionally the last person still working in the office. Usually people were still working in the selling area. However, on once occasion the last person downstairs had left without checking the office. When I opened the door to exit all of the alarms went off. I just strolled to my car and drove home No one ever mentioned it.
We also installed an accounts payable system at Frank’s insistence. I had already noticed Harriet’s approach to accounts payable. Her lower right desk drawer was devoted to invoices from vendors. Sometimes she took the invoices out of the envelopes, but just as often she threw the envelopes in unopened. This infuriated Frank, but there was not much that he could do about it. He was the president and she was an employee, but she was also an owner, and he was not. He was counting on the A/P system to solve the problem.
It was an ugly job, but someone had to do it.
Vendors called complaining about unpaid bills pretty often. I once heard her tell one of them that she would cut a check to them that day. She also begged them not to tell her boss about it because he would probably fire her, and she really needed the job. She got a tear in her voice while she said that. She also usually asked the vendors how much she owed them instead of looking through the invoice drawer.
To set up the accounts payable system we had to go through the stack of envelopes and invoices one at a time. We had to take Harriet’s word that some of them had already been paid. It was a humiliating experience for her, and she probably hated both Frank and me for it. When we were finally done, A/P was turned over to the lady (I can’t remember her name) who ran the inventory system.
I had an interesting meeting with the proprietor of Michaels Jewelers, a chain of stores based in New Haven. I don’t remember his name. He lost interest in our system when I told him that there was no way for two Datamasters to communicate remotely. This was becoming a bigger drawback to the design of the hardware every year.
Who cares if they buy it?
He told me that his biggest problem was inventory “lost” at his branch stores. He said that he really didn’t care that much if he sold the jewelry. It could just be melted down and resold as something that was more popular at the moment. Is there anything else that one could say that about?
Another great thing about the jewelry business is that you can depreciate the inventory for tax purposes, but in fact the value of the goods is more likely to increase rather than decrease for reasons that I have never understood. After all, they are just shiny rocks of little utility.
Unfortunately, there was not much that we could offer in the way of loss prevention, especially if the problem is focused on employees. Really good solutions to that problem were not available until at least a decade later.
One other thing that I remember is that the proprietor of Michaels called the people at Seiko “whores”. I think that he meant that they did not care who sold their watches.
I also pitched Westerly Jewelry Co. in Westerly, RI. An IBM rep from Providence drove to Westerly and brought a Datamaster with him so that I could do a demo for Larry Hirsch, the owner. The reception to my presentation was not great. I tried to follow up, but there was not much interest. If they had owned two or three stores, we might have had a better chance. Managing one store without a computer is much easier than managing several.
Not at IBM in the eighties!
What I remember most about the experience is that the IBM rep wore a yellow shirt. I had never seen any male IBM employee in anything except a white shirt. This was, of course before IBM did a 180-degree turn on its expectations about the attire of its employees.
I called the 5360 model of the System/36 the washer-dryer unit.
Harstans used their Datamasters for many years. They hired a young man named Jim Coer to oversee the systems. We had a pretty good relationship with him, but they eventually decided to buy a System/36 at a cost that dwarfed what they had spent on Datamasters. They must have also bought a competing software system that they expected to do things that we could not provide. I suspect that whoever sold them on this idea also said that no one used BASIC on the System/36 because the performance was bad. The first part of that statement was pretty much true, but the performance of well-written BASIC programs was, we later determined, roughly equivalent to that of RPG, the simplistic column-oriented language used by most S/36 programmers.
We parted with Harstans on amicable terms, but the loss of our main reference account ended the hope of concentrating on jewelry stores.
TSI’s installation at Avon Old Farms School was, by all measures, an unqualified success. It is described here. The Datamaster was perfect for their requirements, and all of the modules were successfully completed in a relatively short time.
Even before we met with them, I suspected that this installation might be the first step into a lucrative market. When I learned that Walter Ullram’s younger brother held a similar position at Westminster School in Simsbury, I grew even more optimistic. However, at the meeting that Walter set up for me with him the younger Ullram seemed only mildly interested. I followed up with a letter, but I heard nothing back.
I discovered that there was a book listing all of the private schools. It might have been restricted to New England. At any rate I mailed to the business managers of all of them and never heard anything in reply. By that time we had our hands full with other clients.
We had designed a report that provided Paul Prior of Ledgecrest Convalescent Hospital with the information that he needed to maximize his reimbursements from the state. The installation is described here. When it was completed, I decided to try to market it to the other nursing homes in Connecticut. By limiting it to Connecticut, I would only have one set of regulations to deal with.
By the mid-eighties it was becoming difficult to sell Datamaster systems. PC’s were so much cheaper. It was hard to explain why they were inferior. In response to this a developer named Gary Hoff2in Minnesota had created a PC program called Workstation Basic3 that ran programs written for the Datamaster without any conversion. TSI bought a copy and converted our report program to run in WB. I also designed add-ons so that people without the TSI G/L system could enter the appropriate numbers and the month they represented. The program would tell them how they were doing towards staying under the state’s predetermined caps.
A woman who worked for a company that sold personal computers helped me to market this product. I sent letters to all operators of nursing homes in the state. Quite a few responded, and I did a few demos and talked with a few owners. She offered them discounts on the computers. No one was ready to buy. One of them finally told me, “Our accounting firm does this for us. You really should talk with them.”
I asked Paul about this accounting firm. He said that he was well aware that everyone else used them, but he didn’t like them. He did not trust them, he said, and they charged quite a bit just to do the arithmetic for customers.
This is one of DEC’s VAX-11 780 computer. You know at least as much about it as I do.
I scheduled a meeting with the accountants. They seemed very interested in what I had done, but they wanted me to convert it all to run on the mini-computer that they had purchased from the Digital Equipment Corporation (DEC)4. I was looking for many clients, not one big one. Also, I knew nothing about their system. I had no interest in becoming a DEC programmer.
Maybe not as bad as the Vanguard TV3.
On the other hand, if I did not work with them, it was very unlikely that we would ever sell even one copy of this system, which I called CAPS5, to anyone. Since nearly every nursing home in the state used this firm, and they were the recognized experts, the project was doomed to die before it had a single installation. It was the worst (or at least tied for the worst) software launch ever.
Fortunately, our efforts in the other industry that we targeted, advertising agencies, worked out much better. That story can be read here and here.
1. The only Harstans store that still exists in 2021 with that brand is in Guilford, CT. I think that Frank Sikorski lives in La Quinta in eastern California..
2. Gary Hoff is still working in 2021 as a contract developer. His LinkedIn page is here. A few years after the CAPS fiasco Gary visited our office in Enfield. He spent one night at the Red Roof Inn and one day in our (then empty) sales office trying to get one of our System/36 BASIC programs to work on an AT using a new version of WB. He flew back to Minnesota without getting a single screen to appear. He did not get errors, but this new version of WB was unbelievably slow. He later used me as a reference account!
3. I was astounded to discover that Workstation Basic is still supported in 2021. You can read about it here.
4. After divesting most of its assets. DEC was acquired by Compaq in 1998, when TSI’s business was really taking off.
5. CAPS was an acronym. C stood for Connecticut, and S was for system. I don’t remember the rest.
IBM’s introduction of the System/23 Datamaster in June of 1971 was a tremendous opportunity for TSI. In fact, if the announcement had been a month later, I probably would have given up on TSI and looked for a job.
The Datamaster was one of the very few systems in the early eighties that offered small businesses of all shapes the opportunity to automate their operations. There were competitive hardware systems, of course. Some of them offered more processing bang for the buck, but none of them had the three magic letters I-B-M on the hardware. IBM had a well deserved reputation of delivering high-qualiity system with unmatched service. “No one ever got fired for recommending IBM,” was a popular saying.
What we did not realize until we got our hands on it was that the Datamaster was extremely easy to program. Of all the systems that we worked with, I enjoyed working on a Datamaster the most. We delivered an enormous amount of code to meet incredibly diverse requirements in a very short period of time.
We depended on IBM for most of our new clients. The exceptions were Harstans Jewelers (described here) and advertising agencies (described here and here). I am uncertain of the order in which we acquired the new clients. The order in which I have listed them here may not correspond to the order in which we did the projects.
In most cases we took delivery on their systems in our office in Rockville and then carted them to the user’s location when the systems (or at least the most important modules) were ready. Once this started we always had at least one system in the office until the time that we bought one for ourselves.
Paul Prior sold Ledgecrest in the eighties or nineties, but it is still in business in 2021. It is now called Ledgecrest Health Care Center.
One of the most memorable clients was Ledgecrest Convalescent Hospital, a nursing home in Kensington, CT. The proprietor was Paul Prior1, one of the most interesting people whom I have ever met and one of the few clients whom I got to know pretty well.
When Sue and I first met Paul I was quite intrigued by his business. Paul’s goals were not much different from those of any other small business. He wanted to bring his company into the twentieth century. Most of the applications that interested him were fairly standard,—patient billing and accounts receivable, accounts payable, and general ledger.
The last was his top priority because a high percentage of his receipts came from reimbursement from the government. The amount that the state reimbursed the business depended on his keeping a close eye on expenses. A mistake could cost thousands. So, the objective was to produce a system that allowed Paul to keep Ledgecrest’s expenses within state guidelines year after year. Anything over the legally prescribed “caps” would be disallowed.
The important thing was for him to learn where he stood while he still had time to do something about it. He needed to project his spending fairly accurately beginning in the middle of the year or even earlier. This sounded to me like something that would be valuable to all of the nursing homes in Connecticut. I had high hopes of marketing it to the dozens of nursing homes in the state, and I did. That effort is detailed here.
Paul also ran a second company called Priority Services. It provided Meals on Wheels to aged and disabled people.
After we won the contract and delivered the first part of the system, Paul told me how much he enjoyed working with the system. For reasons that I did not yet understand he had done all of the initial data entry himself. As usual he was drinking coffee from his dirty cup. He never washed it because, he said that it protected him from a weak cup. That was the day that he identified for me the feature in our systems (I forget exactly what impressed him) that convinced him to hire us. I chuckled when I informed him that our systems did not actually have that feature. He must have mixed us up with someone else.
Not for Paul.
Paul told me that he had been drafted in the fifties and took part in the Korean War. I don’t use the word “fought” because he told me that as soon as he got close to combat he “went over the hill”, was apprehended by MPs, and then spent some time in the brig.
When he got his discharge (I didn’t press him for details) and came home, he discovered that his older siblings had taken control of the family business that had been founded by their parents. According to Paul, everything was a mess. Bills were going unpaid, and the standards of patient care had dropped precipitously. Meanwhile his brothers and sisters were living high on the hog.
Paul somehow chased them out and took over the management and eventually the ownership of the business. He went to each creditor and arranged a plan for paying all the bills. Eventually he reestablished the reputation of the institution. I was very impressed by this. Nobody had ever related for the origin story of his business.
While I worked with Paul on getting reports from the G/L system to provide the information needed to maximize his income from the state, I got to meet the other three people in the office, all of whom were female. The first was named Dorie. She served as secretary and reception. She also paid all the bills. I don’t remember the second lady’s name. She was, among other things, in charge of Priority Services. The last was Paul’s daughter, Kathy, who helped out part time. I think that she was engaged to be married.
I don’t remember exactly what the system that we designed for Priority Services did. I think that they recorded who was to receive meals on specific days, and the computer printed delivery routes. I seem to remember that it also did billing. One day Paul asked the lady who ran this system to get me a cup of coffee. She asked me how I liked my coffee. I requested just a little bit of sugar and no cream.
Much too sweet for me.
The beverage that she brought me back was so sweet that I could not drink it. She explained that she could not find any sugar, and so she substituted a packet of Sweet’n Low. That didn’t seem like enough to her, and so she poured in a second envelope. From that day forward I drank my coffee black. I eventually learned to appreciate the bitterness.
The last system that we got working was accounts payable. I spent one session with Dorie in which I tried to learn how she did things. I asked her how many bills they had in accounts payable. She responded “None.”
I mansplained to her that I meant how many invoices that she had not paid yet. She insisted that she had none. Eventually I realized that, unlikely as it may seem, she was right. As soon as she got an invoice from the mailman she wrote out a check, stamped it with Paul’s signature, put it in an envelope, and mailed it.
Paul, perhaps mindful of his terrible experience with debts to vendors when he took over the business, tolerated this approach. However, he understood, that it tied his hands with respect to cash flow. Furthermore, after Dorie paid the bills they still had to be entered into the general ledger system.
The problem was that Dorie was terrified of the computer. The night after I talked with her about accounts payable, she could not sleep at all. I wasn’t there, but the next day she came to Ledgecrest and was ready to quit her job. Paul assured her that she would not be required to use the computer.
Instead, Paul entered in records for all the vendors himself. Once he had done so, it was easy for him to keep up with them. He did not need to enter a stack of open invoices and reconcile balances. Paul found something else to keep Dorie busy.
I doubt that anyone with an MBA would have approved of this extreme “Theory Y” management style, but it seemed to work for Paul.
Ledgecrest and Priority Services upgraded to a System/36 in the late eighties.
I can’t prove it, but I strongly suspect that NSNE was in the west side of the indicated building.
In many ways National Safe Northeast was not an exceptional company. Most of their customers were banks. By the time that I started working with them their primary products were no longer safes, but Automated Teller Machines (ATMs). Their office was in an industrial park in West Hartford2. The most peculiar thing about it was that four family members were often present: Tony Bernatovich, who ran the company, his wife Lynn, who had a title but no evident responsibilities, his daughter, who was sort of the office manager when she was there, and a very large dog.
They wanted us to install a rather standard bookkeeping system. We made very few adjustments to the accounts receivable, accounts payable, and general ledger systems. It made me wonder why the IBM rep did not just sell NSNE IBM’s packaged systems. They would have worked pretty well.
Tony’s real interest was in a customized payroll system. NSNE used a method called “half-time due”. You haven’t heard of it? Neither has anyone whom I have ever met. There is not the slightest passing reference to it on the Internet.
NSNE did not want its installers to work overtime. Since they were out on the road, it was difficult to control their hours. Employees who put more than forty hours on their timesheets were only paid half of their usual rate for the excess. Not double-time, not time-and-a-half, just half-time. If the total pay for the period was less than the minimum wage, they were paid the minimum wage.
Was this legal? I don’t know. There are several case files for lawsuits involving NSNE3, but I did not find any that involved complaints about illegal compensation schemes. Incidentally, although I was always on the lookout for an edge for our software, I never considered marketing this feature.
We primarily worked with three people at NSNE. Joan Kroh was the accounting manager. Her assistant’s name was Darlene. There was another employee named Jimmy. I do not recall either last name.
I am not sure what Jimmy did, but one morning no one else was there, and he was supposed to enter some accounts payable. The system was on, but he could not get it to work. I tried to talk him through it over the phone. I asked him to key in GO APMENU and then press Enter. As God is my witness, I talked on the phone with him for forty-five minutes, and he could not accomplish this. Finally, Darlene came in and keyed it in with no difficulty. It took her less than a minute.
I have two other fairly vivid memories. In one of them I was driving my car to NSNE. It overheated. I had to pull over to the side of the road. I loosened the cap on the radiator, and steam and hot water blasted me in the face. I was not hurt, but I was a mess. I went to NSNE anyway. I never have cared much about appearances.
This was not Joan’s team.
Darlene and Joan played in a woman’s football league. It was flag football, but these ladies were serious, and Joan was one of the best players. I was very impressed.
When the Lingerie Football League appeared on television I could not help thinking about the contrast between the ladies on TV playing “tackle” football in bikinis and shoulder pads and Joan’s teammates wearing sweatpants and tee shirts knocking one another on their asses.
This was not a pleasant drive. Route 44 can be very busy.
I never felt as ill-at-ease at a client’s offices as I did at John LaFalce, Inc., on Route 44 in Canton, CT. John4 was (and apparently still is) an interior designer. His retail office in Canton showcased a lot of eclectic furniture and doodads. I avoided the showroom lest one of my elbows occasion an unintended purchase. Rich people came there to hire him to redo the interiors of their Connecticut homes while they were living in one of their other houses. Or maybe vice-versa.
I think that TSI just implemented accounts payable and general ledger systems for them. We might have done some other programming that I don’t recall. There really was only one user, the bookkeeper, whose name was Jan Shustock.
I remember a meeting that involved one of the guys who ended up buying out John LaFalce, Inc. After the purchase they changed the name to LaFalce Campbell Robbins. The third person in our meeting was an IBM sales rep. The new owner mentioned something about red and blue not going together. As one, the rep and I held out our red and blue ties and looked down at them.
I also remember being stunned when TSI delivered the Datamaster that we had been working on to JLF. They asked me where, in my professional opinion, in their business office they should locate the computer system . They had sixteen employees, most of whom designed interiors for a living. They were asking a coffee-swilling code jockey how to arrange their furniture. I told them how long the cables were, but I refused to venture any further opinions.
SMI, in the south end of Hartford, has hardly changed in appearance at all in forty years.
Sue did most of the work for Standard Metals. The proprietor was Steve Buzash5. The person with whom we worked the most was named Carol. I recall very little about what we did for them, probably A/R, A/P, and G/L. I remember Steve talking with us about designing an inventory system. His inventory consisted of pieces of metal of various compositions, shapes and sizes. He often cut off pieces and sold them. It sounded like a nightmare to me.
Carol and Steve got married. They invited us to their unusual wedding, which took place on a large boat on the Connecticut River. After the ceremony there was a supper, which was followed by something that most of the people in attendance had never heard of, Karaoke.
Two people ran the show, a guy who served as MC and a woman in a sparkly dress who was obviously a professional singer. He told us tha we were going to be the entertainment, and we were going to have FUN!!!
To get things started, the lady sang a song. Needless to say, she hit every note perfectly and also inserted a few bel canto flourishes. Everyone was totally intimidated. I, for one, was wondering how far the shore was, and whether it would be worthwhile to try to swim for it in my suit and dress shoes.
When no one volunteered, the MC tried to coerce people into trying it. He promised “we will make you sound good.” A few people eventually ventured forth. I think that Sue sang a duet of something with Carol. The event lasted at least ten hours. No, I guess that would be impossible, but it sure seemed like it.
Dave Tine asked us to provide a computerized system for his sister’s company, Videoland, a company that sold home entertainment systems and rented VHS tapes. Its store and office were on Farmington Avenue in Hartford, but we never went there. I have a vague recollection that TSI did a simple inventory system for her. We probably also provided A/P and G/L systems. We billed Dave Tine for our work.
The company went out of business when Blockbuster Videos started appearing on every corner.
After we had a few installations, IBM accepted us into its fledgling Business Partner Program, which meant that we could make a little money selling hardware. One of our very first sales was to the Business Office of Avon Old Farms School. The Business Office Manager was Walter Ullram6. We sold them three diskette-based Datamasters. One was used for accounting functions by Mary Lee Pointe. One was used strictly for word processing by Walter’s secretary. The third was used by the bank. I don’t remember the names of either of these ladies.
The best thing about the AOF installation was that one-third of it required no support at all. The secretary loved IBM’s word processing system, and she learned how to use it from the manuals.
The first time that I visited AOF Walter showed me the system that he had developed for tracking on accountants’ sheets the school’s usage of oil in comparison with the heating-degree days. I was very impressed with how he had devised a scientific system to pinpoint inefficiencies and control the amount of money spent on heating all of the buildings. I was less impressed when I visited a few of the other buildings and saw that people there were coping with the cold weather by using incredibly inefficient electric space warmers.
I went to a very good prep school, but it was nothing like AOF. All Rockhurst students commuted. Most of the AOF students were boarders. They had uniforms, but they deliberately looked like slobs. We had no uniforms, but everyone dressed pretty nicely. The tuition at AOF was about thirty times what my parents paid. I soon learned that a lot of the AOF guys were “trust fund” students. Neither parent paid the tuition. It was paid by a trust set up when the parents divorced. Nearly all of the students were wealthy. Few were on scholarships.
I mostly worked with Mary Lee, whom I liked a lot. She had one very strange mannerism. A light on her telephone indicated whether calls originated inside the school or outside. When she answered outside calls, she began in a voice nearly as deep as Lauren Bacall’s, “Good afternoon, Mrs. Pointe speaking.” For inside calls, she sounded like Jerry Lewis’s falsetto, “Hello-oh?”
AOF reported a problem with connectivity. I cannot remember why they had to run long cables (maybe for Mary Lee’s printer), but they did. The cables did not run along the floorboards. They went through the walls and ceiling. We eventually discovered that the connections were OK, but some squirrels living above the ceiling had chewed through the cables.
Deposits at the AOF bank were not insured by the FDIC.
I was surprised to learn that AOF had a bank for its students. The parents did not send money for incidentals directly to the students. Instead the money went to the school, and the students were allowed to withdraw it. It was a simple system to write, and the lady who used it really liked it.
All in all this was a very satisfying installation. Walter and the users bragged about it to others in the faculty. I was considered a hero by all of the people that I worked with, and TSI made quite a bit of money on it.
I knew that there were quite a few prep schools in New York and New England. I was hopeful that there might be business office managers at some who were interested in automating. When I learned that Walter’s brother held that position at Westminster School in Simsbury, I was pretty optimistic. The story of our attempt to market Mary Lee’s system is told here.
Another favorite client was Viscom International in West Simsbury. Although their business was the importing and marketing of parts for boats, three of the four employees had formerly worked at advertising agencies. In fact, “Viscom” was short for “visual communication”. They were therefore very interested in the ad agency system that we had developed for Harland-Tine.
The principals were Curt Hussey and Frank Hohmeister7. The third advertising guy was an artist. I don’t remember ever even talking with him. Mostly I dealt with Curt and the administrative person, whose named was Mary. She also doubled as a model in ads that they produced to feature marine equipment that they imported from France. As Frank remarked once, “She could fill out a pair of jeans.”
The most enjoyable thing about this account were the lunches that Kurt, Mary, and I consumed in the small restaurant in the shopping center in which they were located. I recall good food and good conversation.
The account itself was a fairly difficult one. The primary system was inventory, and users are often unhappy with their inventory systems. Every transaction must be perfect, and designing a bullet-proof auditing system is difficult. Although their system was working fine at the time, they eventually decided to buy an IBM AT and ditch the Datamaster. The primary motivation was that Curt wanted to be able to do spreadsheets.
My recollection is that Curt had a heart attack while I was still visiting Viscom frequently. He came back to work not too long after that.
Mary left Viscom to work in a restaurant well south of Hartford that was managed by her husband. Sue and I went there for supper once, but I don’t remember any details about it.
Viscom went out of business in 1993.
We sold two Datamasters to the Feldman Glass Co. in North Haven. That was one less than the number of companies that they had. The parent company manufactured glass bottles that they sold and delivered to companies in the Northeast that distributed food or anything else in bottles. This company required only fairly standard accounting software.
The second company was named Anamed. It provided hospitals and the like with small plastic bags that contained tooth brushes, combs, and other hygienic items for patients. I think that we wrote a billing program for this service.
The bookkeeping for these two companies and the data entry for the computer was done by a mother-daughter team. The mother was named Isabel Blake. I don’t remember the daughter’s name.
I don’t remember the name of the third company. It specialized in “fulfillment”. Liquor companies ran contests in which they awarded fairly valuable prizes in exchange for some large number (fifty or more) of labels from their bottles. I don’t know how that Feldman Glass got involved in organizing and keeping track of all of this, but I guess that it was no more distant from its core business than Anamed was. At any rate they told me how they wanted it to work, and I did it.
One day I overheard one of the Feldman/Anamed ladies say that they had bought the wrong computer. I knew very well that it was unlikely that they would have found anyone who was willing to customize three different systems for them on any other computer. It was much easier to criticize the Datamaster’s specs than the quality of the installations. Someone had probably scoffed a the notion of using an underpowered system. I assume that they bought something else after using our systems for several years. It was just as well. Their businesses were so unique that we could not really even use them as a reference account.
I could find no evidence of the existence of any of these companies past the early nineties.
One of our strangest clients was Hartford Cutlery, a one-man operation owned by Bob Burke8. His parents owned East Granby Machine9, which had actually purchased the Datamaster. Bob’s business was sharpening knives and scissors for restaurants. I don’t think that he had any employees. His grinding equipment was kept in a little room at his parents’ company, but the Datamaster was actually in his house a few blocks away. That’s right. We sometimes made house calls.
Evidently all restaurants of any note had at least two entire sets of knives and scissors. Once a week Bob picked up a tray of cutlery from his clients, sharpened all of the pieces, and then returned them to the restaurant. Maybe he could pick up and deliver at the same time if he came very early or very late.
We wrote a billing program for him. It saved him a lot of time. It fed accounts receivable and general ledger systems.
Bob felt constrained by geography. There were not enough high-quality restaurants within an easy drive for him to make very much money. I could see what he meant; East Granby is not usually considered the center of the culinary universe.
Bob then told me his plan, or maybe it was his dream. He wanted to invade New York City. His scheme was to rent (or inherit or buy or steal) a helicopter and begin making daily flights to the city to collect knives to sharpen. He figured that he could undercut the prices of the local competition and still make a hefty profit. We didn’t talk about how he would get around in the city. I suppose that he could buy (or inherit or rent or steal) a truck of some sort to hold the trays of cutlery as he went from one posh dining establishment to another. There might be a place to park it near the helipad, although, now that I think of it, parking spaces there went for upwards of $50 per day even in those days.
Bob used our software for quite a while, but then we lost touch. I have seen no evidence that he ever implemented the plan or, for that matter, that he didn’t.
Putt Brown ran his family’s business, Mono Typesetting, in Bloomfield. I think that he may have gotten our name from a mutual friend and client, Ken Owen, whose story is here. We did a time and materials billing system for him that fed rather standard accounting systems.
These were great, but newer ones were better.
Putt and I often ate lunch together. He was a peculiar dining companion in that he saw a menu as not so much a list of food choices as an agglomeration of type fonts. He often lamented about the state of his industry. He said that he was forced to purchase new electronic typesetting equipment every year. As soon as he got a new system it was obsolete.
I don’t think that he realized it yet, but not very long after this conversation everyone would become a typesetter. Every font imaginable became usable by every Tom, Dick, and Harry with a personal computer that cost a tiny fraction of the systems that Putt was burning through. I am pretty sure that Mono was the last standing typesetting company in the Hartford area, but Moore’s Law killed it as well.
This looks like work to me.
At the time I was a fairly serious vegetable gardener in the small patch of courtyard behind our house in Rockville. Putt told me that he was going to try raised beds for his next planting. Raised beds are quite a bit of work, but they allow more heat to reach the roots, which, for some plants, stirs more growth. It seems like the technique would work best for root crops. The other advantage is that you can sit down rather than kneel down when weeding the crops.
I wonder if Putt actually tried it and whether it worked.
In 1988 I was very surprised to see Putt again in a very unusual setting. In fact, I was wearing a disguise. The incident is described here.
This Atari ST sort of looks like a computer
Suzanne Nettleton owned and operated a company in Middletown, CT, called Professional Relief Nursing. The company maintained two lists, nurses looking for work and institutions looking for nurses. PRN then matched them up.
Suzanne had already had two bad experiences with computing systems. Several years earlier she had tried to get someone to develop a system for her on an Atari computer. You could play Pong on it, sure, but I never heard of anyone trying to develop an administrative system on one.
On her second attempt she did a better job of selecting the computer (a Datamaster), but she chose the wrong people to develop the software. It worked OK at first, but at some point they refused to support it any longer. So, Suzanne asked us to take over the maintenance.
We printed out the listings of the programs. They did not meet our standards by a long shot, but they were fairly simple. We insisted on converting the programs to meet our standards. She agreed, and we signed a contract. Over the years we did a fair amount of additional programming to provide a more comprehensive system.
I have two vivid memories of this installation. The first was the drive to the PRN office. I was shocked that there were two stoplights10 in Middletown on Route 9, a six-lane high-speed highway.
The second memorable event occurred when I showed up early one afternoon for an appointment with the guy that Suzanne had hired to operate the Datamaster system. When he saw the McDonald’s bag that I brought with me, he exclaimed, “Oh, you eat styro-food!”
By far the most prestigious name on out A4$1 client list was only three letters long, IBM. A new department devoted to the IBM Business Partner Program resided in the company’s Armonk, NY, complex. We drove there and talked with Dick Patten, the IBMer in charge of the program, about installing a customized system for lead-tracking on a Datamaster. He liked our approach, and we were equally enthusiastic because we had already developed lead-tracking software for our own use. We also had installed it elsewhere a couple of times.
So, we signed a contract. Dick was then shocked to find out that he could not get IBM to deliver him a Datamaster for several months. He was astounded even more when we told him that if he ordered it through TSI, we could deliver a system in two weeks. Our orders went through “the channel”, which, sometimes but not always, had much better delivery times than were available elsewhere.
For a moment Dick actually considered our offer. Instead, he informed his hardware contact at IBM about our offer. He then demanded to know why the business partners had better access to systems than the man IBM had chosen to manage the business partners. Evidently they found one for him.
While we were in Armonk we chatted one day with a female college student who was employed by IBM for the summer. She told us that IBM had a policy of providing summer jobs to offspring of its employees who were at or above a certain level. She qualified because of her father’s rank.
She said that hers was the best job ever. She astounded us when she disclosed her hourly pay rate. $17 sticks in my mind, but that seems excessive. Also, on her first day her supervisor told her to go to the supply closet and take whatever she thought that she might need. No one kept track of anything like that.
When IBM found itself in financial difficulties in the nineties, this young lady’s tale popped into my head.
TSI had two clients in East Greenwich, RI. One of our most important was an advertising agency that is described here. The other was on the other end of the spectrum. Thorpe’s Wine and Spirits, which I think was just called Thorpe’s Liquor Store in those days, was a small adjunct to Thorpe’s Pharmacy. The pharmacy was sold to a major chain (weren’t they all?), but the liquor store still survives.
Not Gil Thorp, Gill Thorpe.
The proprietor, Gill Thorpe, told us that he had a Datamaster that he would like to used for an inventory system for his liquor store. We had quite a bit of experience doing retail inventory by this time, and the liquor operation was much simpler than a chain of jewelry stores. So, we took on the project in spite of the distance. I found the contract for this account in a box that Sue stored in my garage. We only charged them $500!
We evidently did a good job. The operator, Richard Thorpe11 (Gill’s son), called us for support a couple of times, but he never complained about the system, and they never asked for any enhancements.
One of the last Datamaster clients that we worked on, and certainly the site of the last such system that was still in use was the Regal Men’s Store of Manchester, CT. This store also had the distinction of being the only TSI client (other than IBM) that I personally patronized. I did not go there often, but when I needed something, I generally made the drive.
There was not much to the system. My recollection is that they did nothing but accounts payable on their Datamaster. I would have remembered if we had installed an inventory system.
IBM stopped marketing the Datamaster in 1985. We still supported our clients, and more than once we helped them find used parts—usually diskette drives. In the early nineties we were still supporting all the software that we had written for the Datamaster, but we sent a notice to all of these clients that we would NOT address the Y2K issue on these systems, and we would not support them after 1999. By this time IBM had reasonable hardware alternatives for most of them, but none of the A4$1 clients hired us to convert their code.
This tiny ad is the only reference I could find on the Internet.
In 1999, however, the computer operator at Regal’s, Ann Gareau, begged us to make her system work past New Year’s Eve. I told her that they really should get a new computer and that all of our other Datamaster customers had moved on. She told me that management would never approve the purchase of another computer. She was probably right. The company closed its doors in 2000.
I told Ann that the programs would probably still work in 2000, but the aging would look strange. They might occasionally need to fudge the system date to get the program to accept some dates. She seemed satisfied by that.
I have a strong feeling that I left out at least one other A4$1 client.
1. I think that Paul still lives in Berlin, CT, in 2021.
2. The address was 21-C Culbro Drive. The street no longer exists. I don’t know what happened to it.
