I cant say with certainty exactly when I knew that the entrepreneurial path was for me. But I can say it was fairly early in life. My parents always tried to get me what I wanted, but they also insisted that I work for what I got. As with most youngsters, I started by mowing grass and raking leaves. This is where I learned the value of advertising. Mother worked at the junior high school and had access to a mimeograph machine. We wrote up a letter introducing myself and my yard services, and I put one in every paper-tube in the neighborhood. I didn’t realize, but I was underpricing the competition, and this would prove to be an unexpected bump in the road. There were some threats, and I needed a partner to watch my back. Who better than Jimmy Horton? We could mow twice as many yards, and I didn’t have to keep looking over my shoulder.
Junior high school came and things were evolving quickly. I didn’t make the baseball team and got sent to the yearbook club where my lack of English skills landed me the job of school photographer. I discovered that if you rode the early bus you had time to visit the local confectionery. It was there I discovered Charms Blow Pops. A long lasting surgery treat with a surprise in the middle—and at only five cents a bargain. I would run down and buy three or four each day. One day a fellow student wanted one of my suckers. I politely declined but when they offered a quarter, well the light came on. The next day I ran to Hodges confectionery and cornered the market. I had a steady stream of customers coming to my locker every day, and I was making great money. That was until the assistant principal got wind of my scheme. Mr. Hutchinson was a short, angry man with a flattop hair cut and a persistent neck twitch. It made my neck hurt just to watch him. I don’t recall ever seeing him smile. He snuck up on me and slammed my locker door open exclaiming, “I am not going to have any dealers in my school! Come with me. I am going to call your father, paddle you, and expel you from school.”
He confiscated all my inventory and made me sit and wait for my father. Now I had held the all-time world record for the most paddlings ever given to a student in elementary school, and I wasn’t at all excited to start the process over again in junior high. I sat in the front office and contemplated running out the door. I was tired of being beaten by angry teachers. Granted, I was probably the poster child for ADD, but some things you just cant beat out of a kid. Plus, for the most part, I was bored. Just as I was ready to bolt out the door and join the circus, my father arrived on the scene. Now I feared not just one ass-whopping, but another one when I got home. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to find the circus or hop a train, and wondered if gypsies really existed and if they could help me find a new life.
My father asked if I was ok, which I found rather odd considering the situation. He had to leave work and for that alone I knew I was in for some lashes. But to my surprise he breezed right past me and the secretary, who objected loudly, and went right into the Vice Principal’s office. “We have caught your son selling candy on school premises and we are going to suspend him after his corporal punishment is administered.” It was time to tighten the laces on my shoes. But my father’s voice rose and he said, “The boy shows some sign of being an entrepreneur, and for that you want to beat him and kick him out of school? I don’t think so. I will take my son home and he will come back in the morning and that will be the end of this. Am I clear?” My father was clearly angry. He came out of that office and said, “Let’s go. And I don’t want to hear a single word out of you.” It wouldn’t be till years later that I would really be able to understand all that had happened that day. Shortly thereafter I got a paper route and never went back to dealing blow pops. The schoolyard wasn’t a business-friendly place for me. But the experience opened my eyes. I had no idea that my life as an entrepreneur was just beginning.