Chapter 88: Celebrity

In July of ‘86 my happily anonymous life came to an end. I suppose I should have realized it was going to happen, but it just never occurred to me. It was my fault, of course, but I never thought it through.

I made the cover of Fortune magazine.

If I had stayed home and just counted my money, nobody would ever have known about me. No, I let my friends, people that I trusted, talk me into becoming a businessman, so it was all my fault.

I should have known better. When you become successful, people want to know about you, and other people start writing newspaper and magazine stories about you. In this case, Fortune decided to write an article about the venture capital and private equity business. Well, that was our business, and we were one of the smaller but more successful firms in the field. It was probably inevitable that this would happen sooner or later, and it’s better to be in the newspapers for being successful than for going bankrupt.

Looking back on it, we figured that the press first learned about us when we were listed in Microsoft’s prospectus prior to their Initial Public Offering, or IPO. As owners of six percent of the company, we were named. By July, the prospectus for Adobe Systems was out as well, and we were listed there, too. We had already been named in the IPO for Autodesk the year before, but nobody had come to ask us then. Three tech companies going public in the space of a year, with the same small and unknown private equity outfit listed? That was too much of a coincidence!

We had prepared for this eventuality, to a certain extent. We had created brief bios on all five of the principals in the company, both for SEC purposes and for various prospectuses. These were limited to our professional qualifications and history, and bland. ’Mr. Buckman graduated from Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in 1977 and then served four years in the United States Army... ‘ - that sort of thing. We worked them up for all of us.

Initially, Melissa got the call from the New York office of Fortune, asking for a response and assistance in a story about the private equity and venture capital business. When I asked her why she agreed to help, her response was simple. “They’re going to write a story either way. You want them to print that the Buckman Group was unresponsive and secretive?”

I grimaced but agreed with her. In Hollywood they might say that the only bad publicity is no publicity, but that didn’t necessarily apply to us. Her response had been to send them our curriculum vitae, and we generated a nicely bland press release acknowledging our involvement with the recent IPOs. I never gave it another thought. I figured they would focus on the big-name firms out on Sand Hill Road, like Kleiner Perkins and Sequoia Capital, or maybe a couple of the New York or Boston firms. We would be, at best, a blip in a paragraph at the bottom of the piece.

It didn’t quite work out that way. They never explained why, but it had to have been the three big tech IPOs in a row that made us known. It wasn’t like we handled them, either. We just owned pieces of the three hottest offerings in a year. Who were we? Where did we come from? How did we operate?

Both Melissa and John agreed we had to cooperate. If you don’t control your story, somebody else, somebody who doesn’t have your best interests at heart, will control it. I couldn’t fault their logic. I simply reminded everybody that we couldn’t speak about non-public deals or divulge confidential information of any sort. Any communications would be by one of the five of us.

The reporter showed up on Wednesday morning a little before ten. Missy had warned us all he was going to be there in the morning, but I didn’t give it a lot of thought at the time. When he didn’t get there at nine, I figured he would show when he showed, and went into a meeting in my office with Jake Junior and a couple of the tax lawyers and accountants. At ten, John knocked on my door and came in without waiting for a reply. He found us working at my conference table, and we all looked up when he came in. “Quick, guys! It’s the boss! Look busy!” I said and picked up some papers in front of me and shuffled them. We had pulled this stunt on John before, so everybody picked up their papers and rattled them loudly.

John turned to the man behind him and said, “See what I have to put up with? Are you sure you want to interview anybody here?”

There was a pleasant laugh, and a tall, slim figure came around from behind John and stepped into the room. “I’ll take my chances.”

“On your head be it!” He came closer and said, “Carl, this is Geoff Colvin from Fortune Magazine. Behave or I’ll tell Marilyn on you.”

I dropped the papers on the table and stood up. I came around the table and extended my hand. “Mister Colvin, welcome to the Buckman Group.” I turned back to the others. “We’ll finish this up later, but you guys have the general idea. Pack it up and get to work. Jake, stick around a bit.”

Jake nodded and leaned towards the others to speak quietly. I turned back to Colvin. For some reason he looked familiar, but not completely. Then it hit me. In another thirty years or so he would be one of the senior editors at Fortune and a nationally recognized speaker on business - and bald! “I’ll behave. He really will tell Marilyn on me! How can we help you, Mister Colvin?”

“Call me Geoff. Who’s Marilyn?”

“I’m Carl. Marilyn is my wife, and she is already convinced I’m not ready to play with the other children yet. If John tattles on me, I’m a dead man.” Jake came over to my side as the others filed out, and I introduced him. “This is Jake Eisenstein, Jr., our Vice President of Operations. I’m sure you’ll want to talk to him about your story. He actually makes things work around here.”

“I’m sure I’ll be talking to him, but maybe later,” he answered smoothly. He wasn’t being palmed off, not yet anyway.

“And on that cue, I’m going to go and earn my living. Nice meeting you, Mr. Colvin.” Jake shook hands and departed, leaving me in my office with the reporter.

I ushered the writer over to the corner of my office, where I had a sofa and a few armchairs set up around a coffee table. When we got our new offices, I made sure we had someplace to work (the conference table) and chat, besides just my desk. I could meet people comfortably as needed. I knew enough about Colvin to know he was a very sharp guy, and I didn’t need to be antagonistic.

“How was your trip? You managed to find us, I see,” I started.

“Yes, eventually. I was told that your company was in Baltimore, but it’s not, is it?” he said.

“Not precisely. We’re in Baltimore County, not the City of Baltimore. We’re probably forty minutes away from the downtown area.”

“So, what made you start a company out here?”

“Very simple. It’s where we all live. My entire team is from the northern Baltimore suburbs, including me. I live even further away from the city, so we put the office here as a compromise.”

“Baltimore is not what comes to mind when somebody mentions venture capital,” he replied.

I shrugged. “Money is fluid, as are ideas. A hundred years ago you might have been right. Now, the world gets smaller by the day. Communication gets easier and cheaper. How will we be communicating a hundred years from now? We could be anywhere on the planet and communicating instantly without even thinking of distance.”

“So, you think we’ll all be separated in the future, spread out over the planet?”

I shook my head. “Hardly. For one thing, the long-term historical trend is for increasing urbanization. By sometime in the early 21^st century the majority of humans on this planet will be living in metropolitan areas. We aren’t separating, but congregating. Second, there will always be a need to sit down with others over a cup of coffee at a diner and shoot the breeze and toss ideas around. In that regard, we are at a disadvantage here, but it’s a very nice place to live.”

Colvin was a smart, well-read, and articulate talker, not terribly surprising for a top-notch writer. We spent several minutes discussing future trends, and then I asked, “So, Geoff, what brings you to Hereford?”

“Well, you and the Buckman Group. I started writing an article on the face of venture capital and private investing in high tech areas, and for the last few years, you and your company have been popping up. I’m here to find out why,” he answered.

“Well, we’ll be happy to talk to you, but you understand that we can’t discuss any current or upcoming deals. We’ve signed confidentiality agreements, that sort of thing. Otherwise, I’ll introduce you to the people who really make things happen around here.”

“My understanding is that you’re the one who makes things happen. It’s your name on the door, after all.”

Great! I just waved this off and smiled. “No one man can do all that you think I can. I have several partners, and this is a team business.” I stood up and said, “Let me show you around.”

Colvin got up and I led him out of my office and down the hallway. I pointed at John’s closed door, and said, “You’ve already met John. He’s our chairman of the board and is one of the designated grownups.”

“You have more than one?”

“Number two is Jake Eisenstein. He’s our Treasurer.” Jake’s office door was open and directly across from John’s. When we looked in, he was looking at us and scratching his head, but he was scratching it with a middle finger. “Jake’s not only old, but he’s also grumpy, too!” I continued down the hall and stopped at Missy’s door. It was open, but I knocked on the doorframe anyway.

“Hello?” she said, looking up from her computer screen.

I stepped inside, bringing Colvin with me. “Melissa, I’d like you to meet Geoff Colvin, from Fortune. Geoff, this is Melissa Talmadge, our Vice President of Investments. Melissa deals with a lot of the stuff involving Wall Street.”

Missy rose and came around her desk. “Hello. Welcome. I think I talked to either you or your editor once or twice.”

“Both, actually. First me, then him.”

“Well, you obviously made it. You find us okay?”

He nodded. “Yes, but I didn’t know you were actually so far from Baltimore.”

I commented, “He got the county mixed up with the city.”

Missy smiled and gave a small shrug. “They’re not precisely the same thing. You drive down?”

“I flew, actually, but I wonder if that was such a good idea. We must be an hour from the airport.”

She nodded. “If I need to go to New York, I usually take the Metroliner from Penn Station, and then take a cab or limo in Manhattan. You don’t have to come in from JFK that way.” I nodded in agreement with that. In another life, I had frequently taken the trains from Albany to New York, and then from New York to Baltimore. I thought it beat the bus or flying all to hell.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” replied Colvin. “What made you guys decide to operate way out here? I’d think downtown Baltimore would be the business district.”

“Yes, to a certain extent it is, although a lot of stuff has moved out of the city. It’s just that, well, we’re all from the Towson and Timonium area, and we didn’t want to work in the city. When we set up things, Carl was building his house out in the sticks, so we compromised and came here. Office rents are a lot lower, too.” She looked at me, and asked, “Have you introduced him to everyone?”

“Yes, though Jake Senior was just in passing.”

“Why don’t we all get together over lunch? We can run down to the Wagon Wheel,” she said.

I glanced at Colvin, who nodded. “Fine by me. Let the others know. I don’t think anybody has anything else planned today.”

She shook her head. “Nothing much this week, but next week is jammed, remember. I have to spend a few days in the city, and you and Jake Junior are flying out to the west coast.”

“Dig us up at lunchtime, and we can go over.” I led Colvin back to my office and we sat down. “Okay, shoot!” I said, starting the interview.

Until lunch, Colvin asked me a variety of questions about the three deals we had done with the three tech firms. He also wanted to know why I was going to the west coast. That question I deflected, since it was to meet with a few outfits we were not public with yet. He took that rejection with good grace.

A little after noon, Melissa stuck her head in the door and announced they were heading over to the nearby restaurant for lunch, so I stood, and we followed. I drove Geoff over with me, and they followed in Melissa’s mom bomb minivan. The Wagon Wheel is over towards Parkton but is a decent local restaurant. Lots of comfort food, and the pies are first rate.

Over lunch we were all quizzed about how we had all first gotten together and what our backgrounds and histories were. Then, after lunch, I dumped him on John, and let him make the rounds with everybody. The next day was more of the same, only a photographer showed up, and took individual photos of us, as well as a group portrait or two. The only disquieting note came on Wednesday afternoon, when Colvin asked if he could meet Marilyn. I hesitated at that, and he pushed a bit. “You know, meet the wife and your children, get a little background, that sort of thing.”

It had been a few years, but the thought of my children in the public eye again made my blood run cold. I answered slowly, but precisely. “I realize that to a certain extent I am newsworthy, and by extension, my wife is also, but my children are not. They are minors, and my understanding of the law is that they may not be photographed or mentioned by name without my express consent, and that consent will not be given. I do not wish to cause you trouble, but this is nonnegotiable. Is that clear, or do I need to bring one of my lawyers in?”

“Understood, sir.”

I nodded in appreciation. “Thank you, but I have my reasons.”

The issue came out a month later. I know this because Melissa came into the office after lunch carrying a half dozen copies. She came into my office with a big shit-eating grin on her face. “Carl, can I get your autograph?” She dropped one on my desk, and I just stared!

I figured we might have been part of a blurb, or maybe a boxed paragraph besides the article on private equity groups. Instead, my picture was on the cover, sitting on the edge of my desk, one foot on the floor and the other dangling, a smile on my face, wearing a good gray suit. The cover article was titled, ‘The New Face Of Venture Capital’. “Oh, Holy Christ!” I exclaimed.

“You’re famous, boss!”

“You’re fired! This is all your fault! Yours and John’s. Go tell him he’s fired too! You’re all fired!”

Missy laughed at this and left a copy on my desk. You could hear the uproar throughout the place as people began reading the story.

I couldn’t help it. It was like watching a car crash in a race. You know you shouldn’t be watching it, but you can’t tear your eyes away. I knew I had work to do, but I had to read it anyway. I got up and closed the door to my office.

One of the first things Carl Buckman said to me after I introduced myself was, “I can’t imagine why anybody would want to read about me. I have got to be the most boring guy on the planet!”

Not hardly.

I rolled my eyes at that. I remembered saying it, and it looked like it was coming back to haunt me. What else had I blathered on about?

Buckman, 30, is the President and CEO of the Buckman Group, a virtually unknown private equity and capital firm. Unknown, that is, until they were discovered to be the venture capitalists behind three of the biggest and hottest tech IPOs of the past decade. Now they hold ownership positions and board seats on three of the fastest growing tech companies in America - Microsoft, Adobe, and Autodesk - and they are just getting started.

The company is the creation of Carl Buckman, one of the most intriguing Renaissance men to be seen in recent years. In an industry filled with accountants and lawyers, he is neither. His own story is even more interesting than that of his company. A combination of triumph and tragedy, he is one of the most unique individuals to shake up Wall Street in recent history.

I debated crossing things out with a black Magic Marker but realized I would do better with a paint brush. I wondered if the fire sprinklers would go off if I burned the thing. I kept reading.

Physically, Buckman is just under six-foot-tall, with a tough and wiry build. His nose was obviously broken and never rebuilt properly. He is extremely fit; he spends an hour every morning exercising and lifting weights. His voice is a gravelly baritone, and he speaks with a distinct southern accent. He is normally courteous and well spoken, but that can change. When I asked if I could meet his wife and family, for background purposes, the temperature of the room dropped precipitously, and I was told in no uncertain terms that his children were off limits. “Or else!” Buckman is extraordinarily protective of his family. He has good reason to be. More on that later. [Editor’s Note: Fortune does not publish photographs or names of minor children without a parent’s permission.]

Wait until Marilyn reads this shit! I was never going to hear the end of it!

The article seemed to alternate between segments about my personal life and discussions of what the company was doing. It was obvious that Mr. Colvin had done his research. He had quotes from both Bill Gates and John Warnock of Adobe about what I had brought to the table besides money. A typical paragraph was:

When asked by Gates why Microsoft should accept an investment from a relatively unknown company, Buckman boldly replied, ‘Because of me. Everyone else you’ll ever deal with will be either a lawyer or accountant. I’m the only guy you’ll ever deal with who can actually understand what you do.’ Then, at the closing of the deal, after signing the paperwork, Buckman gave Gates the code, free of charge, to create a DOS menu system, the highly popular Batch Menu Builder system, which he had written in his own spare time. The program was embedded, virtually unchanged, in DOS 2 and all subsequent versions. The system, which allows average users to create DOS menu systems, was considered internally at Microsoft to be almost as valuable as the money Buckman invested.

I snorted at that. The only thing I did with that was to point out to Bill, who was notoriously non-user friendly in his coding, that somebody other than us geeks had to use the stuff. This was a big difference from my first time through, when I had to do that just for Lefleur Homes and our network. Still, the story went on.

That he could do such a thing came as no surprise to the people who know him. Carl Buckman is considered by most to be a mathematical prodigy. At the age of 14 he entered his junior high school’s science fair. Rather than get one of his teachers to help, his faculty adviser was a professor at nearby Towson State College, and the project resulted in his first two published papers. By 16 he was spending half the school day at Towson State. At 17 he was valedictorian of his high school class. At 21 he had earned his doctorate in applied mathematics from Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. His thesis adviser, Dr. John Rhineburg, explained that Buckman’s work provided a theoretical underpinning for advanced computer networking. Rhineburg reported that both MIT and Stanford had contacted him about offering a position to Buckman upon his graduation.

Interesting! John Rhineburg had never told me about any job offers, but maybe he just told them I was already taken.