There are times in your business career when it is so important to have someone who will tell you not what you want to hear, but what you need to hear. Hopefully, you have someone on your side who cares enough and has the confidence to be that person.
I first met Dan at one of the aquatic seminars we held at the nursery. Dan was well-known in our community.
He liked saving people’s lives.
Dan was a cardiologist and surgeon who was very involved in our community. He served on our city council for many years and worked hard to help people in any way he could. But it was his beautiful and unique water garden behind his house that brought us together. His koi garden had a concrete bottom with a huge boulder that served as the waterfall. It was filled with beautiful Nishikigoi (Jewels of the Pond) that could have been on a magazine cover. However, it had started to leak, and that’s why he came to our company that day to hear me discuss one of my landscape passions—aquatics. If I could find a way to add a koi pond, lake waterfall, bubbler, or any form of moving water to a yard, then I was a happy man. My other passion, synthetic turf, we’ll discuss another time.
That day, as the crowd learned more about this new addition to their landscapes, I saw Dan in the audience. We connected almost immediately. I saw in him a person of great intelligence, gracious demeanor, and, my favorite trait, confidence in his ability to talk about many things. All my life, when I see a confident person, I love to engage with them. I can learn a lot from confident people, and this man, who spends his days in a surgery room helping people live longer lives, made me feel humble to think that someone so wise would actually be listening to me talk about what I do well.
As years passed and we became good friends, we were able to spend pockets of time together. The leaking problem with his concrete pond was easy to fix with the right type of sealer. My sons began to enjoy fishing at his lakes, where he grew large bass by introducing many chub minnows each year. I often found myself going into his backyard to observe his clear and gorgeous pond. It was both a way to ensure our work was keeping the water levels correct and a wonderful, relaxing spot to reflect on our friendship.
How Can We Make A Difference?
I will always remember the day when the world stopped for a moment: 9/11/2001, the day our nation was rocked as two planes turned the buildings in New York into rubble, a third plane hit the Pentagon, and a group of Patriots saved countless more American lives by advancing on a cockpit in a rural area of Shanksville, PA, with the iconic words, “Let’s roll.”
As we all remember where we were that day, it was Dan Adams I remembered most and what he said to me. After watching the horror of those buildings collapse and realizing our world would be a little different from here on out, I drove to Newburgh and found Dan trimming some rose bushes outside one of his houses.
I thought it was peculiar that, as we were all processing this terrible moment in our nation’s history, Dan was working on his landscape while most of the country was glued to their television sets.
“Dan, you’ve heard about what just happened a few hours ago, correct?” I wondered aloud. Turning off his hedge trimmer, he shook my hand with a smile and replied, “Yes, John, I saw it briefly this morning. Not a good day for America,” he said. He then explained what would happen next: the war that would ensue, how we’d come together as a nation, where both sides of the political swamp would join forces—for a moment—and how we would rebuild and never forget this day.
But how was this man able to go on with his day like any other day? How and why was his trimming of those rose bushes a sight that seemed so—well… relaxed, and yet important for both him and me?
“John,” he said, “there is only so much you and I can do right now that will make a huge difference in what is to come. But the one thing we cannot let this day do is make any of us less productive or change us so that they feel… they have won.”
“Even for a day, go out there and do something positive, constructive, meaningful. Yes, you can dwell on the pain and tragedy for a moment, then, damn it, get back to work. We have a lot of work to do for this great nation.” I remember him having that look in his eyes as if to say, “I will not let these men from another country change who we are, who I am.”
I thanked him for his very inspiring words, and as he started his trimmer, he ended with, “So, what are you going to do today?” And I knew exactly what he meant. (Read My Tribute to My Country for 9-11-01.)
It was moments like these that made me have so much respect for this man and want to be around him as often as I could. Although he was a doctor and a public figure, he treated everyone the same—not pompous, not proud, just a kind person who took his God-given talents and helped others.
Asking for Feedback
It was because of these personality traits that I one day asked Dan to be a part of a meeting I was putting together for my company. I wanted him there to hear his thoughts on where my company was going and how we could improve. It just so happened Dan’s girlfriend was working in the administration and finance part of our growing business, which would prove important on the day I wish to write about.
Schroeder’s Landscape and Aquatic Nursery was growing in a variety of areas. I was always one who wanted to envision where we could be in 5, 10, and 20 years, if we were still moving in the right direction. (To business owners, please note: MOVING IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION—a very simple way to let people know who would always ask how my company is doing. Quick, to the point, and not many details needed to be shared.)
For this meeting, which would include my attorney, accountant, advisors, and management staff, I specifically let everyone know that I wanted to hear not just what we were doing well but also what we needed to do to keep improving. “It’s okay to be critical,” I told them. I thought I could handle it, and I wanted them to feel comfortable enough to really tell me what was on their minds. We all love a pat on the back when things are going well, but I have found that it’s the people who are honest, confident, and experts in their fields who help you the most by being truthful.
It’s not always easy to hear, but in the long run, it’s the best advice.
So, the day of the meeting, held at an off-site location (maybe my attorney’s office), arrived. The numbers (P&L, balance sheet, finance reports) were passed around, showing that we were still moving in the right direction, and I gave a report on which areas of the company we felt had a strong future and which areas were struggling.
No, we were not a Forbes 500 company. In fact, we were not even one of the top five landscape companies in Evansville, but we were a steadily growing company with about 15-20 employees, a retail nursery, a maintenance division, and several installation crews.
As a first-generation business, I was excited about the work we did. (Evansville had a number of landscape companies that began right after WWII that had a strong history and were very competitive.) We weren’t known as the company that would come out and plant 250 trees and 5,000 perennials. The older companies, which were set up to grow their own stock, were hard to compete with on price. We chose to be a low-maintenance type of landscaper that could turn your backyard into what was sometimes referred to as a “staycation” backyard.
I wanted you to step out of your back door, enjoy your landscaping that required very little time and upkeep, walk by your new koi garden, and feed the beautifully colored koi swimming around the waterfall. Then, you could grab your putter and play on the new golf green surrounded by about 4,000 sq ft of synthetic turf that the kids could play on and that never needed mowing.
Was I ahead of my time with what would become the backyard of the future? Time would tell. But this was the backyard I wanted my designers and salespeople to try to sell after maintaining backyards for nearly 20 years.
Yes, the budget was high, but clients could always do it in phases. My goal was simple: “Enjoy your kids and yourself at night and don’t feel like you have to constantly take care of your personal paradise.” In this regard, I felt confident we were making a difference.
After I gave my presentation and our numbers were shared, I began hearing some very positive comments. There were questions: Where do we want to be as a company in the next five years? Do you really feel synthetic turf will be as big as you profess? Should we, instead of offering so many different options, focus on fewer and define ourselves that way? A very good thought, but for those who know me best, I am a man who loves variety. The more, the merrier, right?
The one division we did eliminate was our chemical crew. I got tired of ladies calling to complain about the one dandelion still in their yard that needed to be killed. Eventually, we also sold the mowing division to a local company and set our sights solely on landscaping. Many companies were now following my lead from 20 years ago, realizing they could start their own mowing team very inexpensively compared to other startup businesses.
Then it was Dan’s turn to voice his thoughts, and boy, did he. I remember it going something like this: “Well, John, thanks for having me here, and based on what I’m hearing, you have a decent company. But it is you who needs some work. Let’s start with the fact that you are almost always late for your management meetings. It’s not right for them to wait 10-plus minutes and hear your excuses about why you were late. They have schedules too, and when you’re late, it may cause them to readjust their day. So, don’t be late.
“You’re not very good at giving your people, i.e., employees, the time they need to come in and talk with you. You say your door is always open, but you’re hardly ever there. And Karen (not her real name) tells me that you’re always trying to make everyone laugh at something when you should be focusing on how to make this company more money so everyone can earn more… and… and… and…”
Dr. Dan Adams was on a roll. I could see everyone sitting up straighter in their chairs. My accountant, Trudy, and longtime attorney, Jeff, looked at each other as if to say, “Wow, who invited this man?” Yet as Dan continued with respectful yet pointed feedback, he was telling me exactly what I needed to hear. I began to feel a bit like the emperor with no clothes—until this wise man reminded me, in front of my peers, that owning a company didn’t make me any different from those who made Schroeder’s look good every day. And I needed to ensure they were thanked and respected.
“John,” he continued, “your company is where it is because you have good people who are sacrificing for you. They could all be working elsewhere, but your mission needs to be that they are the backbone, and the reason you’re still moving in the right direction.”
As he finished, I wondered if he’d get a round of applause or silence. As I recall, I think even the crickets were clapping.
“Well, Dan, you’re telling me exactly what I need to hear. And like it or not, it’s an observation that many may have felt but only Dan could deliver—a delivery that wasn’t threatening but would have the best results.” And it did.
I did, however, fire his girlfriend the next day, used her salary to take everyone on a deep-sea fishing trip to Destin, Florida, the next month, and brought home some great fish to give to Dan for his kind words.
Just kidding! She stayed, and I made a point to be more punctual from there on out. We did take that fishing trip with several employees—some had never been on the ocean before. And you could tell within the company that people felt more comfortable sharing things with me that they may not have brought up before Dr. Dan’s speech. He showed them that when I said to be critical, I meant it.
Just don’t tell him you think he’s losing his hair, gaining girth, or that he can’t keep up with the younger guys when it comes to who can push a full wheelbarrow faster.
Throughout the years, it was usually his koi garden that kept us in touch, or we’d have a lively conversation about how our city government kept him busy and kept me informed. I’d see him occasionally on the news as the council handled various city issues, his presence lending depth to so many topics. It was great to see a wise, older man who could share the history of our city and country, helping balance out the newer thinkers and controversial moments.
How truly lucky I’ve been to have shared so much with a man who taught me many truths about what it really takes to be a positive force in a world that sometimes seems so negative. Years later, as a way of honoring him, I had a spontaneous idea while cutting down a tree on my property—one of those landscaper ideas with a touch of heartfelt imagination. Looking at the stump, I carved a heart out of it with my chainsaw. Although some felt it looked like a “V,” once I painted it red with a cupid arrow through it, I finished by painting the roots blue and red, symbolizing veins carrying life to enrich my land as he enriched me with the lessons he taught.
And every time I trim a rose bush and look over the lake at the flag flying on the highway—the same flag that’s flown since 9/11—I think of him and thank him for giving me the courage to put that flagpole up. On that day, he asked me:
“So, what are you going to do today?”