In 1999 people were predicting an end to civilization because of the imminent arrival of a new century. Art Bell interviewed a doomsayer almost every night. Key software programs were expected to crash a few seconds into the year 2000.
The calamity did not happen. A few systems probably had difficulties, but no major problems were reported at all. In the late nineties employees and contract workers at companies around the world ad devoted a great deal of time and money fixing or replacing software that would not work as designed in the year 2000. TSI was one of those companies.
The software programs that we had installed at clients and we used in TSI’s office often involved dates. For example, every business that does billing needs to know whether the clients are paying the bills within a reasonable time. This involves a comparison of the date of the invoice and the effective date of the report. The routine that makes the comparison must know the year for both dates. As long as both dates are in the same century, the familiar two-digit version of the year will suffice. However, if the invoice date is in 1999 and the report is run in 2000, the calculation must be adjusted.
This aspect of the problem was relatively simple to solve, but in large systems like the ones that we had installed there were thousands of references to dates. The challenge was to find all the situations that needed to be fixed and to implement the appropriate changes in a manner that minimized the inconvenience to the user.
From our perspective the problem was twofold: the way that dates were stored and the way that dates were collected—from data entry screens or from other files. As we entered the nineties we had three groups of clients: 1) System/23 (Datamaster) users, most of which had extensive custom code; 2) System/36 users, most of which were ad agencies that had a lot of common code, but a mixture of custom and standard programs were stored on separate media for each client; 3) a few AS/400 AdDept users; 4) TSI itself, which used a version of the ad agency system on the System/36.
I decided to inform all the Datamaster users well in advance that TSI did not intend to make their code Y2K-compliant. Most of them were not surprised; IBM no longer supported the hardware. However, the sole user at one customer, Regal Men’s Store, begged us to make their system work in 2000. I replied that it would probably be cheaper for them to buy a new system. As it turned out the company went out of business shortly after year end without purchasing a new system.
Fixing each ad agency system would have been a monstrous job of minimal benefit to anyone. By January 1, 2000, their hardware would have been obsolete for a dozen years. So, I sent a letter to each suggesting an upgrade to a small AS/400. Only a few of them took us up on the offer.
We did create a version of the ad agency software for the AS/400 that was Y2K-compliant. Our employees used it for administrative tasks for about twenty years. We had a great deal of trouble marketing it even to the ad agencies that love their GrandAd systems. Fortunately, by 1994 AdDept sales had really taken off, and we did not really care too much about the difficulties of marketing to ad agencies.
The AdDept system had to work perfectly, and the transition must be smooth. We had already promised a number of users that it would be Y2K-compliant. I intended to spend New Year’s Day 2000 watching bowl games, not dealing with Y2K catastrophes.
Why, you may ask, was there even an issue with data storage? That is, why were the dates stored in a format that caused the difficulties in calculations? The answer lies in Moore’s Law, the preposterous-sounding claim that the number of transistors in a dense integrated circuit (IC) doubles roughly every two years. In point of fact, the astounding 41 percent growth rate applied to many aspects of computing—processor speed random-access memory, and the ability to locate and retrieve large amounts of data very quickly.
For TSI’s first handful of years in business the clients stored all of their data and their programs on diskettes with a capacity of only one megabyte1. Those users crammed years worth of historical data on these thin slices of film. To put this into perspective, consider this photo of an eight-inch diskette:
Storing the simple photographic image shown above requires more than seven megabytes. So, storing a file of the size of this one image—something routinely done in 2021 by cameras, phones, watches, eyeglasses and countless other “smart” devices—would require (using the technology of the eighties) eight diskettes and perhaps an hour of computer time. Much of TSI’s systems were designed in this era in which both disk and memory were precious commodities. Good programmers were always conscious of the the physical limitations of storing and manipulating data. The prospect of a client’s system crashing because it ran out of space for its data was a nightmare to be avoided at all costs. Everything was therefore stored in the most efficient way possible. The idea of using two extra bytes to store the century occurred to almost no one in the early eighties.
I could think of several possible approaches to the storing of data to circumvent the problem of the new century. The four that we considered were:
Replace all of the YYMMDD numbers in every data file with eight-digit YYYYMMDD fields;
Keep the dates the way they were but add a new field to each record with the date in the YYYYMMDD format and use the latter for comparisons, calculations, and sorting;
Add a two-digit century field (filled in for existing data with 19);
Add a one-digit century field (filled in with a 0 for existing data).
Rejecting the first option was an easy call. All of TSI’s systems had hundreds of programs that read fields by their position in the record, not by the field name in the database. If the total width of the fields that preceded the field in question, was, for this example, 50, the program read the six-digit date field beginning at position 51. This was not the recommended method, but it had always worked better for us for reasons that are too wonky to describe here. The drawback was that whenever it was necessary to expand the size of a field, it was also necessary to change or at least check every line of code that read from or wrote to the file. This could be an imposing task for even one field. Since a very large number of files contained at least one date, almost every statement that read, wrote, or rewrote data would need to be checked. If it needed to be fixed—or even if it did not seem to need fixing—it needed to be tested thoroughly with data that contained dates in both centuries. We had no tools for the testing, and every situation was at least somewhat unique.
Large and dangerous.
Attempting this for every date and season field was such a large and dangerous task that the only way that I would consider it was if, at the same time, we abandoned reading and writing by position and replaced it with reading by field name. I thought about it, but I decided that that approach would result in even more work and was only a little bit less dangerous.
I reckoned that the other three methods were roughly equal in difficulty and in the amount of time required for implementation. I eventually decided that the one-digit method would suffice.
There was one additional issue in the AdDept system. The first two digits of the three-digit identified the year. So, it was necessary to add a century field for every file that included the season number as well. The season was a key field2 for many files. Fortunately, it did not seem to be necessary to add the century to the construction of any of those keys.
The other issue concerned data entry. Users of TSI software were accustomed to entering dates as a number in the form MMDDYY, the way that dates are commonly written in the United States. The programs validated what had been entered by converting the number into YYMMDD format and checking that each piece was legal. The check for the year normally involved checking to make sure that it was within ten years of the system date. So, every validation routine needed to be changed because the date entered and the system date could be in different centuries.
All of the work was to be done on the AS/400. The first step was to locate all of the files in both the AdDept database and the agency database, which we called ADB, and to add century fields that defaulted to 0 at the end of the files. At the same time, every program that wrote records to these files was found. A peculiarity of BASIC helped us find these programs. BASIC associates numbers with files in each program, and TSI consistently used the same numbers for files. Thus every instance of updating of the job file contained the phrase “WRITE #22”.
A single callable program was written to calculate the century. Its only input was the two-digit year. It was incredibly simple. It set the century to 1 if the year was less than 80 (the year that TSI moved to Connecticut); otherwise it set it to 0. In BASIC it required only two lines of code: CENTURY=0 IF YR<80 THEN CENTURY=1
This approach will work flawlessly until the program confronts dates that are in the 2080’s. If anyone is still using code produced by TSI when that happens, someone will need to come up with a rule for setting CENTURY to 2. I don’t lose any sleep over this possibility. Yes, you could say that we just kicked the can down the road, but who is to say that roads and cans will even exist in 2079?
A much more time-consuming problem was correcting all of the programs that produced reports or screens in which data was sorted by one of the date or season fields. I set up an environment for the Y2K project that contained both programs and data. Whereas it seemed important to insert the century field into all the affected files as soon as possible, the reports and screens would work fine for a few years and could be addressed one at a time.
I evaluated this part of the project to involve mostly busy work—repetitive tasks with almost no important decisions and no creativity whatever. We had hired a college student to work with us for the summer. I thought that Harry Burt and I could set up the projects for him. Harry, who had experience as a college-level professor, could supervise him and check his work. This method did not work out at all, as is described here, and it used up some precious time.
I may have overreacted to this setback. I decided to make this a very high priority and to assign it to myself. One of the programmers surely could have done it as well as I did, but I did not want to assign it to any of them because I did not want anyone I was counting on to consider their job as drudgery.
So, for several months I spent every minute of time that I could find fixing and testing programs to handle the century fields correctly. A few cases were trickier than I expected, but the coding was completed, tested, and installed before any of our clients started planning for the spring season of 2000, the first occasion that would requir the code.
I am not certain about when this occurred, but at some point I received a letter from, as I remember it, someone in the legal department of Tandy Corporation. It said that the company had received a letter from someone named Bruce Dickens demanding that Tandy pay him a proportion of its gross income every year to license the software that handled the Y2K problem because it must have used the technique of “windowing”, for which he had been issued a patent by the U.S. patent office.
The letter, of which I cannot find a copy, contained a technical description of the term3 as described in the patent and asked me two questions: 1) Did the software that we installed at Tandy use this technique? 2) Would TSI indemnify Tandy Corporation in a lawsuit over its use?
I answered both questions truthfully: 1) “This does not sound like what we used.” 2) No.
Dickens sent demands for payment to all of the Fortune 500 Corporations. He said that if they did not agree, the percentage of income required for the license would be increased.
I have searched high and low to find out how this situation was resolved. I know that the U.S. Patent Office scheduled a review of the patent, but I could not find a report of the outcome. I also could not locate any information about whether any of the companies that he had extorted ever paid anything to him or the company that he reportedly founded, Dickens2000. I doubt it. I found no evidence that he actually sued any of them either.
If I had been asked directly whether any of our code calculated the century using the year, I would have changed the code listed above to remove the IF statement and simply set CENTURY=1 in all cases and then answered “No”. A few months into 2000 employees of the companies that used the AdDept system no longer entered twentieth-century dates on new items, and the programs only used the code to assign a season when new items had been entered.
We did not charge any of our clients for the Y2K fix. A few people told me later that this was a mistake. Since our customers depended upon AdDept, and there was absolutely no alternative system available, we probably could have gotten away with charging them. The companies may have even set aside funds for this purpose. However, all of the AdDept users had software maintenance contracts, and I considered it our duty to keep their systems operational.
1. A bit is a binary storage unit; it has only two possible values: off or on. A byte contains eight bits, which is enough to store any kind of character—a letter, number or symbol. A megabyte is one million bytes, which is enough to store approximately eighteen Agatha Christie novels. However, it is not close to enough to store even one photograph. Videos require vastly more storage.
2. A key is a set of fields that uniquely identifies a record. A well-known key is the social security number. The VIN number on a car is also a key. A zip code is not a key because neighboring residences have the same zip code.
3. The most readable and yet comprehensive description of the windowing technique that I have seen is posted here. The application for the patent, which was granted to McDonell-Douglas in 1998 (long after everyone had decided on the approach to use), was (deliberately?) designed to appear much more elaborate than the two lines of code that we used.
Doug Pease. TSI’s Marketing Director, took the call from Tandy Corporation. I am not sure whom he talked with, but he learned that Tandy had three retail divisions—RadioShack, Computer City, and Incredible Universe. All three were based in Fort Worth, TX, but they placed their advertising independently. They were interested in purchasing three copies of the AdDept system. Doug was salivating at the prospect landing three new prospects at once, especially since Tandy already had AS/400’s with enough capacity to handle all three installations. So, there would be no problems in the IT area, and there would be little or no hardware expense. It was almost too good to be true.
Doug and I flew to Fort Worth to talk with the people about their needs. RadioShack was clearly driving the project. They ran weekly ads in two thousand different newspapers. The responsibility for ordering and paying for the ads was split among four employees: north, south, east, and west. Another lady managed their ads in magazines.
Tandy Center in 20002. The Mall was between the two towers. Computer City was in the tower on the left. I think that this photo was taken after the subway was shut down.
The newspaper schedulers already had two systems, one for scheduling and one for paying. The two systems did not communicate at all. So, each employee had two separate workstations on his/her desk. One of the schedulers, Dolores DeSantiago, showed us how they worked. They had to enter all the ads in each one, and both systems were intolerably slow.
I am pretty sure that I did the demo at the local IBM office. The people who attended were very impressed at how quickly AdDept could build a schedule, and I don’t think that they could believe it when I told them that it could fax insertion orders without any extra data entry.
The subway stop for workers and shoppers.
The primary custom work that they wanted was to devise a way that they could split up the newspapers as they were accustomed to doing. I could think of no good reason why scheduling would require four people using AdDept—they only ran one ROP ad and one insert every week. Most papers got one or the other. I don’t think that we actually talked with anyone from Computer City or Incredible Universe, but we were assured that if it worked for RadioShack, it would work for them.
Dolores and Veronica in Enfield.
I wrote up the proposal and the design document. They liked it. I sent them the contract for all three divisions, and they signed it and sent the deposit.
Four people from RadioShack came to Enfield for training—Dolores, Veronica Anguiano, and a man and woman whose names I don’t remember. He was quite familiar with the Hartford area and asked about some of the girlie bars that were just east of I-91 at exit 33. She had worked at Color Tile (described here) and was an enthusiastic supporter of the AdDept system.
The two people whose names I cannot remember.
We probably went out to eat together, but I don’t remember where. It was December, and so they drove up to Springfield to see the Bright Nights display in Forest Park.
After the training session I and the programmers were working on the custom work specified in the contract. That was when Doug received a disconcerting phone call from Tandy. They no longer wanted to purchase a system for Incredible Universe. Evidently sales were sluggish, and they were closing some stores. In fact, they closed down the entire division in 1997.
So, we had to decide whether to hold Tandy to the signed contract, or to revise it to include only RadioShack and Computer City. If we had done the former, we probably would have had a somewhat bitter client. Maybe we were wimps, but we gave in and rewrote the contract.
Not even one.
The installation was unusual. I went to Tandy’s gigantic data center, where not a single TRS-80 was to be seen. A female employee escorted me to my workstation, where I had access to the AS/400 that would be used for the two systems. She spent the entire day sitting next to me watching what I was doing! Maybe she worked in security. She would not let me take any photos.
When I was finished I went to RadioShack’s offices. They insisted that I spend time with each of the four newspaper schedulers.
RadioShack was famous for being a go-to retailer for new technology. During the early course of its relationship with TSI, its leading cellar was the cellphone. At that time their were many different carriers, and RadioShack had deals to supply phones and technical assistance for many of them. The carriers varied from store to store. So, Veronica asked us to add a field to the pub table to designate the carrier. It was important that the paper got the correct version of each ad.
I don’t have any notes from my work with Tandy, but I do have some vivid memories.
The new RadioShack store in Enfield was less than a quarter of a mile north of the existing store in Enfield Square.
Fort Worth reminded me of a cow town. It was nothing like Dallas, which seemed like a very wealthy oil city. Doug and I found a restaurant downtown. I ordered chicken-fried steak. I asked the waitress if it was low in calories. She admitted that it wasn’t. I said, “Good; I’ll have it.” It was delicious.
On one of my first trips to Fort Worth I was a little late and slipped on some unexpected ice. Because I had my sample case full of program listings in one hand and my laptop bag in the other, I fell flat on my ass. I was not hurt.
Most of the time I parked in a gigantic lot that was near the Tandy Center, a shopping mall that also included the offices. The only privately operated subway in the U.S. transported parkers to station below the mall. It only went underground for a short distance.
The mall had an ice rink, but it did not get a lot of use.
I was in Fort Worth when the temperature exceeded 100 for the fifteenth consecutive day. It was so hot that the asphalt felt spongy. The roads in that area are almost all made of concrete.
On November 27, 1997, I was in Fort Worth and, as I usually did when a college football game was on television, I watched Texas Christian University, which is in Fort Worth and almost universally known now as TCU) play against Southern Methodist University, which is in Dallas and is almost universally known now as SMU. SMU, which entered the game with a 6-4 record, was heavily favored. In fact they had won their previous five games. TCU was 0-10 and considered the worst team in the countries. The game took place in Fort Worth. If I had known about it, I might have gone. The lowly Horned Frogs prevailed over the Mustangs 21-18 and won the Iron Skillet.
One day I saw a list of new stores that were planned. The name “Enfield CT” jumped out at me. Knowing that there already was a RadioShack store in the Enfield Square Mall, I asked for the address. It was a low number on Elm Street. This seemed strange to me because the only strip mall of any size on Elm St. was directly across the street from Enfield Square. Nevertheless, that was where they put the new store, but it was only open for a couple of years.
Veronica had a crush on a singer or actor named Antonio. I assumed that it was Antonio Banderas, but when I said so she looked at me as if I were from another planet. Evidently there was another heartthrob named Antonio.
The attempt of Bruce Dickens to extort money from the Tandy Corporation because the AdDept system used a simple calculation to determine the century was explained here.
Yes, but barely.
Most of my time in Fort Worth was spent in the RadioShack division. Computer City actually went out of business in 1998. Before it did, however, I had several unusual experiences in the CC advertising department.
The first thing that I noticed was that everyone in the department seemed to keep a large supply of food in one of the desk drawers. Maybe this was a widespread habit elsewhere, but I first noticed it at CC.
One of the ladies with whom I worked casually mentioned that she had fifty-three cats. Sue and I had two at the time, and I had always considered that two was the perfect number. I asked the lady if they were indoor cats, and she said that if any of them went outside, a neighbor of hers would shoot them with a rifle if they approached his property. I remarked that this would have been adjudged as bad form in New England.
One day I noticed the VP of advertising spending time at the copying machine. He spent the entire afternoon engaged in copying something. I could not imagine what he could have been doing. I don’t ever recall seeing a VP at any other company photocopy even one sheet of paper. They all had personal assistants or secretaries.
In 2000 Tandy changed its name to RadioShack Coroporation.
Bob Quaglia.
I remember the name of only one other employee at RadioShack. Bob Quaglia2 was the media director, which made him the boss of both Veronica and the lady who managed the magazine advertising.
In 2007 Veronica called us to say that RadioShack had outsourced the buying of their newspaper ads to to an ad agency or media buying service. Since that was the primary use of AdDept, they stopped using AdDept. A few months later she called me for some reason. She mentioned that they thought that they might have made a mistake.
In February 2015, RadioShack Corporation filed for bankruptcy protection after eleven consecutive quarterly losses. It was purchased by General Wireless, Inc., in May. A very high percentage of the stores have been closed. All the remaining stores are franchises.
1. Much more information can be found about Doug here and in many of the entries for other AdDept clients.
2. In 2023 Bob was still in the advertising business with his own firm called Gonzo Media. Its website is here. He left RadioShack in 1998. Incidentally, the reason that I remembered his name is that quaglia is the Italian word for quail.
We had a very good record of closing AdDept sales. Most of the whiffs fell into one of two categories:
Divisions of Federated Department Stores. Our relationships with various Federated divisions are described in detail here. They are not included in this entry.
Companies that did not advertise enough to justify a high-quality multi-user centralized database. We actually sold the AdDept system to a couple of these anyway.
TSI’s first efforts to market AdDept were concentrated around New York and New England. I figured that there were not very many retailers who could afford the system to keep track of advertising, but, then again, I did not really expect to justify the cost of the system at Macy’s in the very first module that we activated—ad measurement.
The strip mall in which the Enfield store was located was named after Caldor.
Our first attempt was a quintessential whiff. Kate Behart (much more about her here) had been in contact with someone in the advertising department at Caldor, a discount department store based in Norwalk, CT. Kate arranged for me to give a presentation to them at the IBM office in Norwalk. Of course, we had to make sure that the office had the BASIC program, and I had to install both the AdDept programs and some data that I had dummied up from Macy’s real data.
My presentation was flawless. The only problem that I encountered that day was the lack of an audience. No one from Caldor showed up. We never did find out why not. Kate called them repeatedly, but no one returned her calls. It may have had something to do with the fact that in 1989, the year that we installed the first AdDept system at Macy’s, the May Company sold Caldor to a group of investment houses.
Caldor went out of business in 1999.
I also paid a visit to another local retailer, Davidson and Leventhal, commonly known as D&L. Theirs were not exactly department stores, but they had fairly large stores that sold both men’s and women’s clothing. So, they had quite a few departments. The stores had a good reputation locally. The headquarters was in New Britain, CT.
This D&L ad was on the back cover of the issue of Northeast that featured my story (described here).
The advertising department only employed three or four employees. They wanted to know if they could use the computer for both D&L ads and ads for Weathervane, another store that they owned, as well. That seemed vaguely feasible to me, and so I said they could. In fact, we later did this for Stage Stores and for the Tandy Corporation, but both of those companies were much larger, and I had a much better understanding by then of what it entailed.
I didn’t even write up a proposal for D&L. The person with whom I spoke made it clear that what we were offering was way out of their price range.
D&L went out of business in 1994, only a few years after our meeting. Weathervane lasted until 2005.
I have only a vague recollection of doing a demonstration at IBM’s big facility in Waltham, MA, for a chain of auto parts retailers from Phoenix. The name of the chain at the time was Northern Automotive. My recollection is that I spoke with a man and a woman. If they told me how they heard about AdDept, I don’t remember it. After a very short time it was clear that AdDept was much more than the company needed. Although Northern Automotive had a lot of stores with four different logos, it only ran one ad per week. So there was really not much to keep track of. I had the distinct impression that the demo was just an excuse for the couple to take a vacation in New England on the company’s dime.
I don’t remember either of their names, but the experience list on LinkedIn for a guy named Paul Thompson (posted here) makes him a strong candidate. Northern Automotive changed its name to CSK Auto, Inc. not long after our meeting. In 2008 CSK was purchased by O’Reilly Auto Parts.
Won’t Paul be surprised to be busted thirty years later in an obscure blog?
Tom Moran (more details here) set up an appointment with employees of Genovese Drugs at its headquarters in Melville, NY. The two of us drove to Long Island to meet with them.
I probably should have talked to someone there over the phone before we left. The only impression that I remember getting from the meeting was that they were not at all serious about getting a system. We had a great deal of trouble getting them to describe what the advertising department did at the time and what they wanted to do. I was frustrated because I had considered this a relatively cheap opportunity to learn how chains of pharmacies handled their advertising. It was actually a waste of time and energy.
Tom tried to follow up, but he got nowhere. We did not submit a proposal.
J.C. Penney bought the company in 1998 and rebranded all the stores as Eckerd pharmacies.
Woodies’ flagship store in downtown Washington.
While I was working on the software installation at Hecht’s in 1991, Tom Moran coordinated our attempt to land the other big department store in the Washington, DC, area, Woodward & Lothrop, locally known as Woodies. I found a folder that contains references to correspondence with them. Tom worked with an IBM rep named Allison Volpert1. Our contacts at Woodies were Joel Nichols, the Divisional VP, and Ella Kaszubski, the Production Manager.
As I browsed through the file, I detected a few warning signs. The advertising department was reportedly in the process of asking for capital for digital photography, which was in its (very expensive) infancy in 1991. Tom was told that they hoped to “slip in” AdDept as part of the photography project. Furthermore, the fact that we were not dealing with anyone in the financial area did not bode well.
Someone wrote this book about Woodies.
Finally, we had no choice other than to let IBM propose the hardware. Their method of doing this always led to vastly higher hardware and system software costs than we considered necessary. I found a copy of IBM’s configuration. The bottom line was over $147,000 and another $48,600 for IBM software. This dwarfed what Hecht’s had spent. If the cost of AdDept was added in, they probably were facing a purchase price of over a quarter of a million dollars! That is an awful lot to “slip in”.
I don’t recall the details, but I remember having an elegant lunch during this period with someone from Woodies in the restaurant of the main store. It may have been Joel Nichols. It seemed like a very positive experience to me. He seemed eager to automate the department.
We lost contact with Woodies after early 1992. I seriously doubt that the advertising department even purchased the photography equipment that they had coveted. The early nineties were very bad for retailers. By 1994 the owner of Woodies and the John Wanamaker chain based in Philadelphia declared bankruptcy and then sold the stores to JC Penney and the May Company. Many of the stores were rebranded as Hecht’s or Lord and Taylor.
In some ways Fred Meyer, a chain of department stores based in Portland, OR, seemed like a perfect match for TSI. At the time they were almost unique, and we usually excelled at programming unusual ideas. Their approach to retail included what are now called “hypermarket” (department store plus groceries) stores, although they definitely had some much smaller stores as well. The one in downtown Portland was very small. I really thought that we had a good shot at getting this account, largely due to the fact that the IT department already had one or two AS/400’s. So, the hardware cost would probably be minimal.
She would be lucky to make it in nine hours; there were no direct flights.
I was asked to work with a consultant who, believe it or not, commuted from Buffalo, NY, to Portland, OR. I can’t remember her name. She knew computer systems but virtually nothing about what the advertising department did. She wanted me to tell her what AdDept could do, and she would determine whether the system would work for them. I have always hated it when a “gatekeeper” was placed between me and the users. I understand that they do not trust the users to make a good decision, but advertising is very complicated, and almost no IT consultants know much about it. I would not have minded if the consultant sat in on interviews that I conducted with people in advertising.
If I was allowed to meet with anyone from the scheduling or financial areas of the department, I do not remember it at all. I do remember spending an afternoon with the head of the company’s photography studio. AdDept had a module (that no one used) for managing shoots and another (used by Macy’s East) for managing the merchandise that is loaned to the studio for a shoot.
I remember the photo studio guy mentioning that they also did billable work for outside clients. He mentioned Eddie Bauer by name. He could not believe that I had never heard of it/him.
I probably botched this opportunity. Before agreeing to come out the second time, I should have insisted on meeting with whoever placed their newspaper ads and the person in charge of advertising finance. I did not want to step on the toes of the lady from Buffalo, but I probably should have been more aggressive.
Kate accompanied me on one of these trips. We probably flew on Saturday to save on air fare. On Sunday we drove out to Mt. Hood, where we saw the lodge and the glacier, and visited Multnomah Falls on the way back.
Freddie’s was acquired by Kroger in 1998, but the logos on the stores were maintained. There still is a headquarters in Portland, but I don’t know if ads are still created and/or placed there.
Aside from our dealings with Federated divisions2 TSI had very few whiffs during the period that Doug Pease (described here) worked for us. After one of our mailings Doug received a call from Debra Edwards3, the advertising director at May Ohio, a May Company division that had its headquarters in Cleveland. Doug and I flew Continental non-stop to Cleveland and took the train into downtown. My recollection was that we were able to enter the store from the underground train terminal.
The presentation and the demo went very well. I am quite certain that we would have gotten this account were it not for the fact that in early 1993 the May Company merged the Ohio division with Kaufmann’s in Pittsburgh. Management of the stores was transferred to Pittsburgh. Debra was hired as advertising director at Elder-Beerman Stores.
We stayed overnight in Cleveland and had time to visit the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, which was right down the street from the huge May Co. building. I cannot say that I was greatly impressed with the exhibits.
A few years later Doug and I undertook a second trip to Cleveland to visit the headquarters of Sherwin Williams. Doug had talked extensively with the lady who was the advertising director there. He was very enthusiastic about the prospect of making this sale. By that time Doug had already closed a few big deals for us, and so I trusted his judgment. However, I could not understand how a company that really only sold one product could possibly need AdDept. Yes, they have thousands of stores, but how many ads do they run?
I don’t honestly remember anything about our discussion with them. Needless to say, Doug did not close this one, although he never stopped trying to revive it.
I don’t really count it as a whiff, but Doug was unable to close the deal with Liberty House in Honolulu after our epic trip to Hawaii in December of 1995. The details are recounted here.
I drove past two of the stores in Texas, but I never went inside.
Just as Marvin Elbaum had backed out of his contract with TSI for a GrandAd system in 1986 (as described here), so also one company signed an agreement for TSI’s AdDept system and, before we had installed the system, changed its mind. There was one big difference in the two situations. The second company was the Tandy Corporation, which had actually ordered installations of AdDept for all three of its retail divisions. At the last minute the company decided to close down Incredible Universe, one of the three divisions. The other two companies became TSI clients in 1997, as is described here.
It was not a big loss for TSI. IU was one of a kind. Its stores were gigantic multi-story combinations of electronics and theater. There were only seventeen stores, and only six were ever profitable. Those six were sold to Fry’s Electronics. The other eleven were sold to real estate developers at pennies on the dollar.
I did a demo for Mervyn’s California, a department store based in Hayward, CA. I think that I must have done the demo after finishing a training/consulting trip at Macy’s West in San Francisco. I cannot imagine that I would have flown out to the west coast to do a demo without spending a day or two gathering specs.
The IBM office nearest to Hayward was in Oakland. I took BART in the late afternoon from San Francisco to Oakland. There was quite a bit of excitement at the Holiday Inn at which I was staying. Someone had been murdered on the street in front of the hotel the previous night. There was one other very peculiar thing about this stay. I checked into a Holiday Inn with no difficulty, but I checked out of a different hotel (maybe a Ramada?). The hotel had been sold, and its ownership had changed while I was asleep.
The demo went fine. The guy who had contacted me—his name was Thiery or something like that—liked what he saw. However, the sale never advanced any further. This was almost always what happened whenever I got talked into doing a demo without taking at least a day to interview the potential users. At the time that I did the demo Mervyn’s was, unbeknownst to me, owned by Target. This might have explained the lack of progress. Target may have been restricting or rejecting any capital purchases at the time.
Mervyn’s was sold to some vulture capitalists in 2004. A much smaller version of the chain went out of business in 2009.
For some reason Doug and I once had a very short meeting with the president of Gottschalks, a chain of department stores based in Fresno, CA. He told Doug and me that he would get all of the other members of the Frederick Atkins Group to install AdDept. This organization (absolutely never abbreviated by its initials) somehow enabled its members to shop for foreign and domestic merchandise as a group. Nearly every department store that was not owned by the May Company or Federated belonged to it.
A few years after he made this promise he (or someone else at Gottschalks) arranged for me to speak before the members at one of their conventions in Naples, FL. I flew to Fort Meyers and rented a car from there. Naples was beautiful and reeked of new money. I gave my little spiel, but I did not have an opportunity to interact with any of the members of the audience. So, I did not get any direct feedback.
We eventually did sign up a few members of the group—notably the Bon-Ton (described here) and Elder-Beerman (described here). I don’t know whether my speech had any effect.
I think that the Frederick Atkins Group is defunct in 2021. The references to it that I could find on the Internet were all from decades past.
In (I think) 1999 Doug Pease and I made an unproductive trip to Columbus, OH, to talk with the IT director of of Value City about the possibility of installing the AdDept system for use by the advertising department. That adventure is described here.
First stop: Norfolk.
TSI got a phone call from a chain of furniture stores in coastal Virginia, Norfolk4, as I recall. As part of my crazy automotive support trip, I stopped by to talk with the advertising director at this company on my journey from Home Quarters Warehouse in Virginia Beach to Hecht’s in Arlington. I spent a couple of hours with him. When I discovered that the company had only three stores, I knew that this was a mistake. I told him that our software could address his problems, but the cost and effort would not be worth it for either of us. I advised him to hire someone who was a wiz with spreadsheets.
I think that I got a free cup of coffee out of it.
I can’t tell you what happened to the company thereafter because I don’t even remember its name.
We had two reasonably hot leads in 2000. I had to handle both of them myself. The first was at Bealls department store, which has its headquarters in Bradenton, FL. This was another situation is which I had to deal with the IT department rather than the advertising department. I am pretty sure that the company already had at least one AS/400. I have a few notes from this trip, but it is not clear whether I intended to do the demo on their system or on one at a nearby IBM office.
In any case I think that there was a technical problem that prevented a successful installation of the software needed for the demo. So, I had to improvise, and I did not get to spend much time with the people who would have benefited from the system. The whole thing made me very depressed.
I had some free time, and so I went to the beach. I stopped at a Jacobson’s store to buy a tee shirt to wear at the beach. The cheapest tee shirts in the store cost $100!
The beach was lovely, and it was unbelievably empty. The weather was pretty nice. A beach in Connecticut would have been packed in this type of weather.
All of these stores are gone.
We did not get the account, but the tale has an interesting coda. Bealls is still in business today. For years Bealls could not expand outside of the state of Florida because a different store with exactly the same name was already using it in other states. These Bealls stores were run by Stage Stores, a long-time AdDept client that was based in Houston. Stage Stores was still using AdDept when TSI went out of business in 2014.
In 2019 Stage announced that it was changing all of its stores into Gordmans, its off-price logo (which did not exist while I was working with them). When the company declared bankruptcy Bealls purchased, among other things, the right to use the Bealls name nationwide.
I remember going to Barneys New York in late 2000 to talk with someone in advertising. I also have discovered three emails that I sent to Christine Carter, who was, I think, either in charge of the advertising department or in charge of the financial side. Barneys only had twenty-two stores, and that included some off-price outlets. I don’t know how much they actually advertised.
Flagship store on 60th Street.
We never heard from them after my last email, which emphasized how easily AdDept could be adapted to differing needs even for companies the size of Barneys. By this time the very affordable AS/400 model 150 had been introduced. It would have been perfect for them.
I think that Barneys is dead or nearly so in 2021. All of the stores in the U.S have been closed, and even the “Barneys New York” brand was sold to Saks Fifth Avenue. However, the company also had a Japan division, which is evidently still operational.
I received a very unexpected phone some time in 2001 or 2002. It came from a man who had formerly worked at Saks Fifth Avenue and had taken a job as a Vice President at Sears. He knew that the advertising department at Saks had been doing things with its AdDept system that Sears’ advertising department seemed utterly incapable of. He invited me to the Sears headquarters in Hoffman Estates, IL, to investigate the possibility of installing AdDept at Sears.
At about the same time I had been in contact with the agency in a nearby town that Sears used for buying newspaper space and negotiating newspaper contracts. They wanted to talk with me about the possibility of working together. The agency’s name was three initials. I think that one was an N, but I am not sure.5
I arranged to spend consecutive days at the two places. It was cold on the day that I visited the agency. I learned that it recruited new clients by claiming that they could negotiate better rates for them because they also represented Sears. I suspected that this was baloney. Sears was a bid dog nationwide, but the amount of newspaper ads that they bought in any individual market was not that impressive. They were just in a lot of markets.
After the people explained the services that they offered to clients, I remarked that about 10 percent of what they did overlapped with about 10 percent of what we did. Privately I could not imagine that any of our clients who would benefit from their services.
I told them about AxN, our Internet product. They informed me that the papers did not want to sign on to their website for insertion orders. Of course, they wouldn’t, and they had nothing to hold over the papers.
We ended the meeting with the usual agreement to stay in touch and look for synergies, but privately I considered them the enemy.
I did not see a parking structure. Maybe I entered on the wrong side of the pond.
The next day was bitterly cold, and there was a strong wind. I located the sprawling Sears complex and parked my rented car in a lot that was already nearly full. I had to walk a long way to the main building, and I have never felt as cold as I did on that walk.
I could hardly believe it when I walked into the building. The ground floor was billed with retail establishments—a drug store, a coffee shop, a barber shop, and many more. I had to take the escalator up to get to Sears. I was met there by the woman with whom I had been in contact. She was from the IT department.
OK, now I get it. Our problem was that we did not have enough architects.
She took me up to meet the “advertising team”. Six or eight people were assembled in the room, and they all had assigned roles. I remember that one was the “system architect”, and one was the “database manager”. I almost could not suppress my amusement. What did all these people do? There was no system, and there certainly was no database. At TSI I handled essentially all the roles that everyone at the table described.
They asked me some questions about the AdDept system. When I told them that it ran on the AS/400, the system architect asked me if that system was not considered obsolete. I scoffed at this notion and explained that IBM had introduced in the AS/400 64-bit RISC processors that were state-of-the-art. I also said that, as far as I knew, the AS/400 was the only system that was build on top of a relational database. That made it perfect for what AdDept did.
I wonder how many “OS/2 shops” there were in the world.
They informed me that Sears was an OS/26 shop. I did not know that there was such a thing. In the real world Windows had already left OS/2 in its dust by that time. In all my time dealing with retailers I never heard anyone else even mention OS/2. It might have been a great idea, but IBM never did a good job of positioning it against Windows.
Besides, just because the corporation endorsed OS/2 should not eliminate consideration of multi-user relational databases where appropriate. The devices with OS/2 could serve as clients.
They explained to me that Sears’ advertising department had hundreds of employees, most of whom served as liaisons with the merchandise managers. Most of the ads were placed by agencies. I presume that the newspaper ads were produced in-house. No one whom I talked with seemed to know. The people on the committee did not seem to know anything about how the department did budgeting or planning.
The competition.
Someone talked about Sears’ competitors. The example cited was Home Depot. I don’t know why this surprised me. I must have been taken in by the “softer side of Sears” campaign a few years earlier.
After the meeting my escort took me to a remarkable room that was dedicated to the advertising project. It was a small theater that had ten or so posters on the wall with big Roman numerals at the top: I, II, III, IV, etc. There were no statues, but otherwise I was immediately struck by the resemblance to the Stations of the Cross that can be found in almost any Catholic church in the world. I asked what the posters represented. The answer was that they were the “phases of the project”. I was stunned by the assumption that the project required “a team” and that it was or indefinite duration. No one ever allowed us more than a month or two to have at least portions of the system up and running.
At some point I was allowed to give my presentation. The man who had worked at Saks attended along with a fairly large number of people. Maybe some were from advertising. I was never allowed to speak with them individually.
I never got to read the advertising department’s Wish Book.
My talk explained that AdDept was a relational database that was specifically designed for retail advertising departments. I described a few of the things for which it had been used by other retailers. I could not do much more than that. I had not been able to talk with any of the people in the department, and the IT people were clearly clueless.
When I returned to Connecticut I wrote to both my escort and the man from Saks. I told both of them that I did not know what the next step might be. I had not been given enough access to the advertising department to make a proposal. The whole experience was surreal. If someone had asked me to return, I would only have done it if I were granted unfettered access to potential users.
No one ever contacted us. I told Doug not to bother following up.
One puzzling whiff occurred during the very short period in which Jim Lowe worked for us. The strange case of Wherehouse Music is explored here.
Perhaps the strangest telephone call from a genuine prospect that I ever received was from Albertsons, a very large retailer with is its headquarters in Boise Idaho. The person who called was (or at least claimed to be) the advertising director there.
I had heard of Albertsons, but I did not know very much about the company. All I knew was that they were a chain of grocery stores in the west. Since advertising for grocery stores is basically limited to one insert/polybag7 per week, they had never seemed to be great prospects for AdDept. However, I never hung up on someone who expressed interest in the system.
The problem was that this lady insisted that I fly out to Boise to meet with her and her crew the next day. I tried to get her to explain what the situation was, but she said that she had no time to talk. She needed to know if I would make the trip. It was a little tempting for a peculiar reason. Idaho was one of the few states8 that I had never visited. Still, this sounded awfully fishy. I passed.
The incredibly bumpy road that Albertsons has traveled is documented on its Wikipedia page, which is available here. I don’t remember when the call from the advertising director came. I therefore have no way of knowing whether she was in charge of advertising for a region, a division, all of the grocery stores, or none of those. I might well have passed up an opportunity that might have extended the life of the company. Who knows? It looked like a goose, and it honked like a goose, but maybe going to Boise would not have been a wild goose chase.
Jeff Netzer, with whom I had worked in the nineties at Neiman Marcus (recounted here), called me one day in 2010. He asked me if I remembered him. I said that I did; he was the Aggie who worked at Neiman’s.
He informed me that he was now working at Sewell Automotive, the largest Cadillac dealership in the Dallas area. He said that they were looking for help in automating their marketing. I was not sure how well AdDept would work in that environment, but I agreed to visit them. His boss promised to buy me a steak dinner.
I flew Southwest to Dallas, and for the first time my plane landed at Love Field. It was much closer to Sewell than DFW would have been.
I found a great deal out about their operation. I doubted that we could do much for the agency for a reasonable amount of money. On my computer I recently found a three-page document dated September 23, 2010, in which I had listed all of the issues that I learned about at Sewell. A woman named Tucker Pressly entered all of their expense invoices into a SQL Server database. It was inefficient, and there were no programs to help them compare with budgets.
The main objective of the marketing department was to make sure that they were taking advantage of all available co-op dollars from Cadillac and other vendors. We could not help with this unless we wrote a new module. I described my reactions to their issues in a letter to Jeff.
I never heard back from Jeff, who left Sewell in 2012. Nobody ever bought me a steak dinner.
Sewell Automotive is still thriving in 2021.
In 2011 or 2012 I received a phone call from a lady from the advertising department at Shopko, a chain of department stores based in Green Bay, WI. I don’t recall her name. She said that she worked for Jack Mullen, whom I knew very well from both Elder-Beerman and Kaufmann’s. Before Doug Pease came to TSI, he had worked for Jack at G. Fox in Hartford.
I flew out to Packer Land to meet with her. They had a very small advertising department. They basically ran circulars in local newspapers on a weekly basis. As I remember, she and one other person ran the business office.
I worked up a proposal for the most minimal AdDept system that I could come up with and sent it to her. When I had not heard from her after a few weeks I called her. She said that the company was downsizing and, in fact, her position was being eliminated.
Jack also left the company in July of 2012. His LinkedIn page is here. Shopko went out of business in 2019.
1. Allison Volpert apparently still works for IBM in 2021. Her LinkedIn page is here.
2. As I write this I can easily visualize Doug stabbing a box with a pencil after a frustrating telephone conversation with someone from a Federated division.
3. I worked fairly closely with Debra Edwards when I installed the AdDept system at Elder-Beerman stores in Dayton, OH. That installation is described here. She was the Advertising Director there. Her LinkedIn page is here.
4. The “l” in Norfolk is silent, and the “ol” sounds much more like a short u.
5. I later learned that there were actually two affiliated agencies across the street from one another. I encountered the other one, SPM, in my dealings with Proffitt’s Inc./Saks Inc., which are detailed here. The agency was still around in 2023. Its webpage is here.
6. In fact IBM stopped updating OS/2 in 2001 and stopped supporting the operating system in 2006. I cannot imagine how Sears dealt with this. I pity their employees with nothing OS/2 experience at Sears on their résumés.
7. Polybags are the plastic bags that hold a group of flyers from diverse retailers. they are ordinarily distributed to people willy-nilly.
8. The others are Wyoming, Montana, North Dakota, and Alaska. I am not certain of Arkansas. I might have gone there with my grandparents when I was a youngster. The only place that I have been in Utah is the Salt Lake City airport.
My recollection of many of the events portrayed below was fuzzy. I was not even certain of the year (1998) or the time of year (autumn) until I found a dated document. Lacking a good way of pinning down the details, I needed to guess at or be vague about some things.
Background: For me the period from 1995 through 1999 was the busiest, most exciting, and most stressful of any that I spent working for TSI. It was also the most potentially terrifying period. Our marketing director, Doug Pease1, had hit the mother lode and put us in a position to dominate the market on which I had decided to focus our attention back in the late eighties.
Most large retailers, especially department stores, were organized into divisions, and each division was responsible for its own advertising. So, when a large retail organization decided to name AdDept as the preferred system for advertising, we would usually install a system at each division. In 1998 the May Company,2 which at the time had seven department store divisions, had already endorsed AdDept. Doug had also negotiated installations for the three divisions of the Tandy Corporation3 and he convinced the people at Proffitt’s4 Marketing Group (PMG) to purchase systems for six of their divisions. In addition to these, Doug had also made headway at several other potential clients such as Elde- Beerman, Gottschalks, and Macy’s West.
In short, TSI’s business was finally booming. The challenge was no longer whether the company could generate enough income to meet the next payroll. The question—and it was a very serious one—was whether we could meet our commitments to all of these new installations, almost all of which required significant custom programming.
There were a few other issues as well. The twenty-first century was approaching. AdDept had been made Y2K-compliant from the outset. We also had produced a version of the GrandAd system for the AS/400 that would work in the twenty-first century. We needed to convert all of the software that we used in TSI’s office as well. These undertakings were labor-intensive and required extensive testing. The details of those efforts are described here.
The company therefore faced tremendous challenges in providing the software and support for commitments that I had already made and for the prospective contracts that were almost certainly imminent. Furthermore, the person who had at that point done most of the AdDept programming, myself, would undoubtedly be devoting much less time to coding in the next few years.
I would be doing all the installations and on-site training. I also accompanied Doug on many sales trips. I gathered all of the requirements for new code and wrote the design documents and programming requests. I wrote all the marketing materials and anything else that needed to be written, as well. I also ran the business and extinguished the most serious fires. Last but not least, I did the great majority of the research on new hardware offerings and new software techniques. I still did quite a bit of coding, but I now relied on the programmers for most of it.
Steve Shaw.
Fortunately, I had a team of all-stars to help. Sandy Sant’Angelo handled the support line, which during the late nineties was nearly always busy. She was quite good at documenting problems and making the customers feel comfortable. The programmers were Steve Shaw, Harry Burt, and Denise Bessette. Steve and Harry were both good programmers, and they were both familiar and comfortable with TSI’s programming standards. However, they had little knowledge of details of the AdDept system or the way that retail advertisers worked and thought. Early in 1998 Steve Shaw surprised me by leaving TSI to take a programming job at the Phoenix Life in Hartford.
Denise was extremely dependable. She was also very meticulous in her work habits and thoroughly familiar with both TSI’s standards and most of the basics of advertising. She told me that she did not want to travel, however. Therefore, I could not use her for any of the trips that I made to clients.
The Known Problem: I always tried to keep the employees—especially the programmers—happy. The work at TSI environment was, I think, generally positive. The company had very few rules. There was no dress code at all, although I expected the employees to spruce up a little when customers came to our office for training. I wrote up a short document that listed what we expected of employees. My door was literally always open.
TSI paid the programmers pretty well, and by the mid-1990’s we had implemented good programs of health and disability insurance and a 401K with matching contributions. Although I felt a great deal of stress during this period, I tried to avoid putting pressure on the coders.
TSI’s corporate ladder.
I understood that there was one problem that was inherent to TSI and other small businesses: there was little or no room for advancement. I could reward people for good work, and I could try to make their work challenging and enjoyable. However, it they were ambitious and wanted to climb the corporate ladder, there was not much that I could do. I suspect that this is why Steve quit. Similarly, if they were interested in a position with more responsibility, my options were likewise limited.
I tolerated—and even encouraged—a certain amount of creativity, but after Sue left the office (described here) in 1994. I made all the important decisions. It wasn’t that I liked exercising power. I just reckoned that none of the programmers were interested in managing the business. I would have been happy just to code all day.
As good as the staff was, our upcoming workload was so massive that there was very little room for error. I knew, for example, that Sue and I could not consider another big trip until all the installations were stable, which might take years. I also understood that I had to keep the entire programming team intact if possible. As I have explained in other blog entries, I figured that every time that a programmer quit I lost at least six months of my own productivity between the time spent looking for a replacement, training him or her, and correcting all the mistakes. Furthermore, there was never a good time to look for coders, but 1997—just months before Y2K raised its ugly head—was one of the worst.
Harry and Steve were good programmers, but I knew very well that the key member of the team for the next few years was Denise. Losing her would be a catastrophe that I did not want to contemplate. I probably should have worried more than I did.
TSI’s Telephone System: Each desk at TSI had a unit like the one shown at the left. The company had many phone lines, but no one, not even Doug or I, had a direct line. TSI had two phone numbers that outsiders knew about. One line was dedicated to customers reporting problems or asking questions. That line was answered by Sandy.
The other number was in the phone book and on our letterhead and business cards. We disclosed it to prospects, vendors, and a few others. That line was answered by the administrative person.
There were also two rollover lines. If a caller called either the main number or the support number, and that line was busy, the phone would still ring, but someone at TSI would need to press the flashing button for a rollover line to answer it.
TSI relied on this phone system until the business shut down in 2014. Doug and a few others pressed me to get a more modern system in which each person had her/his own line. A couple of times I priced out these options, but I could see no advantage that was worth spending thousands of dollars. Besides, I liked our phones. In my assessment, they had one overarching advantage. They made it much more difficult for employees to initiate or receive calls from the outside. There was also a fairly strong incentive to keep non-business calls short.
Harry and Denise dressed up for a TSI Christmas party.
Denise Bessette: Denise was the first programmer that Sue and I hired in 1984. The details are posted here. She worked full-time for a couple of years and then part-time for quite a few years while she finished her undergraduate degree at Smith College and then earned a masters degree at Trinity College. In 1993 she became a full-time employee again. We let her use Sue’s office, which was better than her previous location, but it was still less than optimal because Sue never removed all of her junk after she stopped coming to the office in 1994. We also gave Denise a substantial raise. I tried to keep her in the loop on what direction the company was going, but I did not set up any kind of a formal process for doing so. I should have, but I didn’t. My excuse was that I was away on trips a lot, and when I was in the office I was exceptionally busy.
I should emphasize that, even though we had worked together for many years, Denise and I did not have much of a personal relationship. She invited Sue and me to her house in Stafford, CT, for supper once in the eighties. We never reciprocated, presumably because our house was always a mess. I doubt that in all of those years Denise and I had talked about anything besides work more than a handful of times.
During the time that Denise had worked at TSI she had occasionally received phone calls from her husband, her mother, or one of her sisters. She might have received one or two calls from other people. In the fall of 1998, however, even I, who would ordinarily pay little or no attention to such a thing, noticed that she was receiving numerous phone calls from a “friend” named Jackie.
Herberger’s: My most vivid memories of this period were when I was in St. Cloud, MN, the home base for Herberger’s a chain of eleven department stores, 1300 miles away from TSI’s office. At the time I was installing TSI’s AdDept system on a small AS/400 in the advertising department there. A more detailed description of the installation is posted here.
The offices were on an upper floor of this store.
I only visited Herberger’s a few times. The occasion that I remember the most clearly was certainly not my first trip there. It might have been the second or third. I remember that it was rather cold, but the weather did not approach the frigid levels for which nearby Frostbite Falls is famous.
In those days the only way to reach St. Cloud was through the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport. Northwest Airlines sponsored a shuttle service to the St. Cloud Regional Airport5. I can’t remember whether on this occasion I took that flight or rented a car and drove. I am pretty sure that I stayed at a hotel that was within easy walking distance of Herberger’s headquarters, which was on St. Cloud’s main drag, St. Gernaine St. I am pretty sure that I stayed two nights and then flew back to Connecticut on the third evening.
The main thing that I remember about my first day there was that I called the office several times to see if everything was all right. This was beyond unusual for me. On most trips, unless I needed help about some problem that I had encountered, I seldom called more than once. I have always hated talking on the phone, even if it was to people I liked. I liked all of TSI’s employees.
I don’t think that I spoke with Denise on any of those calls. However, I got the distinct impression that something was amiss. Although there was nothing particular that provoked alarm, the feeling of impending dread almost nearly overwhelmed me. I desperately wanted to get back to TSI’s office to discover the details so that I could deal with the situation. Of course, this was not possible. I had made a commitment to get the system up and running at Herberger’s, and I could not abandon the project because of a nebulous feeling.
After my first day at Herberger’s I ate supper by myself as usual. I don’t remember where I dined or what I did afterwards. I might have taken a walk. I might have read a book. I might have watched television. I do remember worrying.
I always got very tired after dinner. Every night I took a shower around 9:30 or 10:00 and then went to bed. I sat in bed for a few minutes reading a book. I almost never got through more than one chapter before the letters would begin to swim around on the page. I would then turn out the lights. Normally I was sound asleep within a few seconds.
St. Cloud in 1997 had newer cars, but otherwise it looked just like this.
Not this night. For a few hours I emulated Bobby Lewis—“Tossin’ and turnin'”6. I decided to make myself physically tired. There were not many choices available for nocturnal exercise. I dressed and put on my coat and hat. I then walked around St. Cloud for at least an hour. I did not go far. I just walked up and down the streets. None of the buildings seemed to have more than three stories. The only other thing that I remember noticing was a Maytag or Whirlpool store that sold appliances. I had thought that these stores—mainstays of my youth—had gone the way of the dodo, but they evidently still persisted in St. Cloud in 1998.
I eventually drifted back to the hotel and tried to sleep. I probably dozed off for a while before it was time to prepare for work. I remember that I ironed my shirt while I listened to Vivaldi on my CD player through my Bose headphones.
I was running on fumes that day. I chain-drank black coffee to try to remain alert. I took notes on all of the things that the Herberger’s employees said that they needed AdDept to do. I knew very well that Steve VeZain at PMG had already made it clear to me that no custom code would be provided for Herberger’s. Steve said that they needed to adapt to the system that worked for everyone else. I called in to TSI’s office several times on that second day, as well.
I flew back to Connecticut that night in an even worse mood than the foul outlook that these exhausting trips usually produced. On the one hand I was frustrated because the AdDept system did not work the way that the Herberger’s employees wanted it to, and there was nothing much that I could do to help them. They had no clout with PMG. They were, after all, by far the smallest division, and they were on the wrong side of the Mason-Dixon line. On the other hand I was also very apprehensive about what I would find out when I went into the office the next day.
The Denouement: On my first day back in the office Denise confided that she had been offered a job as IT director at a fairly small company that used an AS/400. I am not sure whether she would have any employees under her or not. Truth to tell, I did not care much what kind of job it was. My sole objective was to take whatever steps were necessary to persuade her to stay at TSI. I also learned that Jackie, as I expected, was a corporate headhunter for an employment agency.
I tried to talk Denise out of accepting the job. I emphasized how important I thought that she was to TSI. She asserted that she was mostly looking for something new. She had been doing mostly the same job for thirteen years.The best that I could get out of her was that she would think about it overnight.
Denise usually arrived at TSI’s office at about 9:007. The morning following our conversation I went outside to meet her in the parking lot. I was extremely nervous when her car finally pulled into the lot. She got out and immediately informed me that she had decided to accept the other job.
I cannot say that I was surprised, but I was still crushed. I couldn’t face going back into the office. So I went and sat in my car and moped. I felt as bad or at least nearly as bad as when Bill Davey and I just missed qualifying for the National Debate Tournament in 1970 (described here) or when Sue abandoned me to go to Alaska in 1973 (described here). No situation in the intervening twenty-three years came close to evoking this feeling.
I had no idea how to deal with this situation. We had mountains of work. I was in no position to take on more of it myself, and I could only squeeze a little more out of Harry. I had made commitments to several clients. I could not select one or two to work on and dismiss the others. They all had deadlines, and they had given us deposits or were long-time clients that I was not prepared to disappoint.
Sitting in the car was not helping. I drove to the Enfield Square Mall, parked my Saturn, went inside, and walked around. At that time there were some benches inside. I rested on one of them every so often. Eventually a plan coalesced in my mind. It seemed like a good idea; I just wish that I had thought of it earlier so that it would not appear that I was being extorted.
That evening I discussed my idea with Sue. I honestly thought that it would be as difficult to persuade her to agree as it would be to convince Denise. I was wrong. She understood the important role that Denise played, and she agreed in principle with everything that I proposed. She also knew that I was miserable.
I located the original written proposal that I presented to Denise. It was somewhat different from what I remembered. Here is what it said:
Denise as Principal:
Denise will have 25% share8 in TSI. The three principals will have monthly meetings to go over the results of the previous month vis-à-vis the business plan and discuss other issues. The 25% share will entitled her to a presumptive bonus of 25% of the profits after employee bonuses and SARSEP contributions. Denise will give up her commissions.
Denise will be given a budget of $125,000 for fiscal 1999. She will have six objectives:
Do what it takes to bring our staff up to strength.
Work with Doug to come up with a profitable and sustainable business plan for current products: fee schedules for programming and support, etc. The deadline for this is April 1, 1999.
Come up with a concrete plan for TSI’s next software (or whatever) product. The plan should include recommendations about whether it should be done inside of TSI-AdDept or in another milieu. The deadline for this is September 1, 1999. TSI will pay for necessary travel. Mike has several frequent flier round-trips to use.
Come up with suggestions to ease tension and make work fun for everyone. This involves removing the “Wag the Dog” orientation we now have.
Implement remote dial-in support and a LAN (TSI will pay for the hardware).
Get someone AS/400 certified or figure a way around it.
Suggestion: Use part of the budget to hire Steve back in a new position. I would like to get five man-days of programming/support from the two of you, but this won’t work if there is not a firm system in place to guarantee freedom from support calls. The easiest way to accomplish this would be to work from some other location (which requires remote dial-in support).
I met privately with Denise on the following day. She was stunned by the offer and very impressed. However, she had already made a commitment to the other company. Moreover, there was another employee at the other company whose fate was somehow linked to Denise getting hired. I don’t remember the details. In any event Denise accepted my offer, I got our lawyers to make it legal, and she called the other company and Jackie. Neither was pleased.
This the first page of TSI’s revised stockholders agreement.
When I spoke with Denise, I made it clear that the monthly meetings would actually include Sue only if Sue insisted on attending, which I doubted would happen often. When we actually distributed annual bonuses, we gave Sue a minimal one and split the profits 50-50. The “concrete plan” became AxN. I do not recognize the “Wag the Dog” reference, but within a year the company moved into a new office in East Windsor with a remarkably different atmosphere (as described here). The “someone” who became AS/400-certified9 was myself (as described here). Denise did not hire Steve Shaw back. Instead she hired Brian Rollet, who was something of a disappointment to her.
Denise and I worked together amicably and productively for another sixteen years. If she had not agreed to my plan, those years would have been been much less pleasant for me. I don’t know if I could have achieved half of what we accomplished together.
1. Much more about Doug Pease can be read here and in many of the blog entries about clients that he persuaded to purchase AdDept in the nineties.
2. TSI’s involvement with the May Company at the corporate level is posted here.
3. TSI’s dealings with Tandy Corporation are detailed here.
4. In the nineties Proffitt’s Inc. purchased all of those chains and turned them into divisions. After it purchased Saks Fifth Avenue, which already used AdDept, it changed its name to Saks Inc. TSI’s relationship with this company is described here. Separate blogs describe the individual divisions.
5. In 2021 this shuttle is no longer in operation. The only commercial flights from STC are on Allegiant Airlines. There are only two potential destinations—Fort Meyers/Punta Gorda and Phoenix/Mesa. Residents who want to fly anywhere else must somehow get to Minneapolis. Northwest Airlines filed for bankruptcy in 2005 and was acquired by Delta in 2008.
6. You can listen to the number 1 single on the Billboard chart for all of 1961 here.
7. Denise asked for this allowance when her son was young. It gave her time to get him off to school or wherever else he was headed. She also had a fairly long drive to Enfield and even longer to East Windsor. She often stayed late.
8. When TSI incorporated in 1994, Sue was given 45 percent of the stock, and I got 55 percent. The revised agreement left me with 40, Sue with 35, and Denise with 25.
9. IBM had implemented a new requirement for business partners. Not only did the software need to be certified, but also someone at each company must be certified by passing a test that was sales-oriented and a test that was more technical. I took both of these tests, as is described here.
