Chapter 10: Showtime

Things were happening quickly, almost in a blur. I interviewed Lucas Randall in late February for the controller position on the recommendation of Dave Charles. If he was okay in Dave's view, then it was guaranteed he had the qualifications and experience to manage the money at Tracy. It was really only a matter of whether he and I could get along.

"You met with Dave, so you know my limitations," I began as we sat in my office. "I'm dependent on you to keep me up to speed and aware of problems or opportunities."

"I won't pretend I'm as good as Dave," he said, "but I know what you need and I'm here to make sure you get it. Financial guidance, I guess we could call it."

"Yeah, that's about it. How do you feel about working here?"

"The more I talked to Dave, the more enthused I was about the job. This size of operation is ideal for me. I'm not lost in an accounting department, doing some obscure analysis of sales versus inventory. I won't pretend I'm an expert in everything, but I've had a really good grounding in a number of facets of running a business and this is my chance to put that to good use."

"Tell me about yourself," I asked.

"Well, born nearby in Stockton, educated at Sacramento State, worked at a construction firm for three years, moved on to work for a family business in Fresno. Big mistake."

"Why?"

"I don't know if it's common to all family businesses, but it was like a chess game where the rules only counted some of the time. I was constantly being given contradictory instructions that made the job much more difficult. I stuck it out for almost two years before I quit and went to work for D & H Trucking. They are big and I was a little guy in the accounting pool, despite my experience. So, until I heard about this opportunity, I was just marking time."

"Are you married?"

"Nope. Haven't found the right woman yet. I'm trying to be patient, but time marches on. I'm thirty-six, so the idea of having a family is slipping away."

"Well, take it from the voice of experience. Be patient. I'm forty-three and I'm just getting to know what I've been missing. It's never too late," I grinned.

"Thanks for the advice. So ... do I get the job?"

"Yes. Dave's recommendation is good enough for me. I think we can work well together. I'm going to rely on you to be my right hand man and keep me from making dumb mistakes. My background is sales and that's what I'm comfortable with. You and Bobby Lee, our production manager, are going to be important to me and this operation."

I stood and stuck out my hand. "Welcome to Flex-Tek. Can you start Monday?"

"Yes I can. Thanks. You won't regret this, I promise you."

Lucas left and I called Dave to thank him for finding my financial guy. I was pleased that he was local and could start right away. I could put him with my loaner accountant from Langley, Calvin Dodge. Another piece of the puzzle in place.

Bobby Lee Turpin showed up early on the following Monday, driving a big black Ford F350 crew-cab diesel. It was spotless and looked like it was brand new. He'd left Friday morning from Monroe, driving more than six hundred miles a day.

"I thought you'd have killed a few bugs along the way," I said as Fiona and I greeted him in the parking lot.

"Took it through the truck wash last naht. I hate a dirty truck jes' lak I hate a dirty operatin' flowah."

"We're going to get along just fine, Bobby Lee," I grinned. "I feel exactly the same way. Have you met Fiona Alexander yet?"

"Yes suh, I have. Nace to see y'all agin, ma'am."

"Nice to see you too, Bobby Lee."

"I've got you booked in at the Microtel," I said. "It's a decent place and the company will look after the cost for the first month."

"Thank y', suh. That's generous of y'all."

"You're welcome. Come on in and we'll get you set up in your office."

"Is he always this polite?" Fiona asked as we walked to my office.

"So far. He can't bring himself to call me Andy and you will always be Miss Alexander I suspect."

"Only for a while," she said, poking me in the ribs with her elbow. "How about that. A real southern gentleman."

"And here's you, hookin' up with a nawthener," I drawled.

"I refuse to call it 'hooking up, '" she said indignantly.

The time was rushing by at break-neck speed as we hurried to get the equipment installed and begin the training. It was just as well the pouch machine hadn't arrived yet as we had organized chaos on the plant floor and two crews were working feverishly to get the new press and laminator installed. Bobby Lee and Wick were constantly there, watching every step of the procedure. When there was a lull, Bobby Lee was phoning all our existing employees and inviting them to come in a see what was going on. There was a method to his invitations. He wanted to observe just what he had on his hands for crew, and he wanted his crew to see what they had to look forward to.

As part of the modernization, Leo had provided funds to keep our key people on the payroll in order not lose them to another job. Despite the fact that it was an expensive process, it preserved our core skilled people, and Bobby Lee's keeping them involved in the modernization process made them feel part of the new company. I don't think any of us could calculate just how many people he kept from wandering off, but I'm confident it was several. Replacing them would have been an expensive proposition.

What I hadn't counted on was the flow of new business that had already begun to show up. Interestingly, it was almost completely from Fiona's customer base. What a surprise. In addition, we had requests for quotation and proposals from several new accounts that Fiona had approached, warning them that our production was unlikely to be running before April. It didn't seem to matter. These new accounts wanted to know what we were capable of, how much would we sell for, and when could we deliver.

"This is a dangerous deal, Fiona," I warned her. "The deliveries you're proposing are based on the assumption that we will be operational on time and making good product. What happens if we have a problem and can't meet those dates?"

"Simple," she grinned. "We call Langley and they bail us out."

I shook my head. I was now seeing Fiona, the sales person. Obstacles were there to be surmounted ... kicked off the road to success. It put that much more pressure on me to do everything possible to get us up and running.

The laminator was the first piece to be ready for trials. We had two experienced crews available from the old laminator, but solventless was a whole new technology for them. On top of that, cure time was twenty-four hours before further processing, including slitting to width. It was a relief to see the men catch on fairly quickly to the automated controls. But what stuck out was Bobby Lee Turpin.

He was head and shoulders above his men in more ways than one. If any of them had trouble working for an African American, it sure didn't show. I never heard him raise his voice or say anything that wasn't encouraging to his crew. I already had a nickname for him, one I stole from golf: Big Easy.

"He's that all right," Ralph nodded when I mentioned it to him. "He's a natural born leader. Mind you, being as big as he is, who's going to argue with him?"

"I've got you to thank for him, Ralph. And Wick looks just as effective, except he's totally different."

"Yeah ... kind of like a ping pong ball, bouncing all over the place. By the time we get this machinery in place, I have a feeling he's going to know every nut and bolt, top to bottom. We've got Bobby Lee to thank for him. I think those two are going to let me get home a little earlier than I'd hoped."

The press installation was a much more complex project, but the crew from Verona, Italy, were professional and worked steadily to get it ready. Wick told me that the best thing about it was all our services were in the right place and matched up with the equipment just as they should. That wasn't always the case in some of these jobs. There always seemed to be some problem with the electrical or duct work being incompatible or in the right location.

Fiona spent her time out in the market, drumming up more new business. Some of it, like pouches, went to Langley, but a lot of it was destined for our new equipment. I was beginning to think she took a wicked glee in piling on the pressure. I kept my thoughts to myself. Bobby Lee didn't need any more heat.

We were a couple of bodies short of two press crews and Bobby Lee and Ralph had been interviewing prospects who had responded to our advertisements for jobs. The response was better than Ralph had expected and we were able to find four good candidates with press experience, although none of them had worked on these new, automated presses.