Ever try to sell an idea before its time? Neil Lillo did, enduring a six-month drought without a drop of revenue. “My wife was getting nervous,” Lillo said, recalling the period in 1980 when he came home night after night without ever having made a sale. It was an uncomfortable time for Lillo as well as his wife because in his previous business, he’d been accustomed to “selling something every day.”
Maureen Gustafson may be playing out her starring role as president of the Mankato Area Chamber & Convention Bureau (MACCB), but she’s really more the Muse that Pope described back in the 18th Century.
A graduate of Minnesota State University, Mankato, with a degree in theater, Maureen was trained as a Muse, or actress, to “wake the soul,” “raise the genius,” “mend the heart,” and “make mankind, in conscious virtue bold.” Now, as MACCB president, she’s doing the very same things.
John Roise avoids credit for the rapid growth and financial success of Lindsay Window and Door Co., which manufactures vinyl and wooden windows in North Mankato.
Despite his lack of experience in the industry, Roise introduced new products that more than tripled sales. Employment escalated from 14 to 65. He’s paid back all the long-term money he borrowed to buy the company in 1989.
With computers elbowing workers aside and manual labor often reduced to nothing more than pushing buttons, automated production dominates many manufacturing processes today.
But Floyd Forstner and a handful of employees still fashion fire trucks by hand, one at a time, every one different, in an 81 year-old shop on the edge of downtown Madelia. They start with a cab and chassis purchased from a major automotive manufacturer and custom-build the rest. The first truck born in that shop in 1940 still sees limited service with the Madelia Fire Dept.
While spraying out ideas like bullets from a Gatling gun, Blue Earth’s Neil Eckles, 59, leans forward to make another salient point about the Internet. “If we could speed that up,” he says rat-a-tat-tat, “man, there’s no end to that thing.” His mind seems perpetually locked on rapid fire and sometimes his mouth has a hard time keeping up with all his ideas. He has a boyish enthusiasm about his work.
Tim Mullen dreamed of starting his own business for years, but never once fantasized about building the world’s smallest hearing-aid amplifier. Now he’s done both.
In December of 1991, Mullen and three like-minded partners put their new company together on paper, incorporating as Hybrid MicroCircuits, Inc.. In February of 1992, they opened their doors in Belle Plaine, long on experience but a tad short on capital and pinched for space. In 1993, they alleviated their capital and space situations by moving 110 miles south on Hwy. 169 to Blue Earth.
Eight magic words give job applicants an edge anywhere in Brown County. All they need to say is “I grew up on a farm near Leavenworth.” To prospective employers, that short sentence means an applicant understands order, discipline and hard work.
Leavenworth is a tiny settlement southwest of Sleepy Eye with a few houses and a large Catholic church, the Church of the Japanese Martyrs. Big families from small farms make up most of the congregation.
How many Blue Earth Countians regularly drive a jet boat to work?
How many peddle a bike ten miles to work through ten-below weather? How many own a 1902 steam fire engine and a 1921 International truck? How many downright dominate commercial real estate sales, property management, and commercial development in Mankato? Only one character could fit the bill on all four questions: Curt Fisher.
True or false: Only in America do brainstorms strike adventuresome folks, who quit their jobs, convert their garages to makeshift factories and grow multimillion dollar companies. False.
It also happens in Japan. Despite that country’s industrial reputation for patient teamwork and polite consensus, entrepreneurial adrenaline and rugged individualism flow just as strongly and swiftly through Japanese veins.
