Fairmont Opera House
Photo By Jeff Silker Friendly ghosts inhabit the Fairmont Opera House. Maybe true, maybe not, but it’s Michael Burgraff’s way […]
Photo By Jeff Silker Friendly ghosts inhabit the Fairmont Opera House. Maybe true, maybe not, but it’s Michael Burgraff’s way […]
Many entrepreneurs attribute at least some of their business success to having earned a four-year college degree. Jim Thomas, 58, owner and president of Upper Midwest Management Corporation (UMMC) in New Ulm, attributes some of it to not having earned one.
Boo-hoo, said the businessman because he couldn’t find enough qualified workers to help him make his product line. The labor shortage in Minnesota had inflated his wage costs and cut his margins to the bone in a dog-eat-dog industry. What was he going to do?
When Duane Sibbet was hit with the above quandary, he didn’t boo-hoo. Rather he did what he thought made sense: he closed up shop. And close he did – his Twin Cities home construction business – and began a whole new career and business at age 40 in Blue Earth, Minn., compliments of that city’s economic development authority and an idea gleaned from his parents’ horse blanket business.
Ernie Glass, 62, president of Johnson Components and survivor of five buyouts over the past thirteen years, leans across his desk to explain why his Waseca office has few furnishings. “My tradition of a bare office dates to my General Electric days,” says Glass, a hint of a smile breaking across his lips. “I moved every two years then so I never really bothered to fill my office up with things that would need to be packed and eventually unpacked. Then I came to this company where I’ve had six different office suites at three different plant sites since 1987. I carried on the tradition.”
Journalists believe everyone has a story worth publishing, maybe more than one.
But Mankato’s Charlie True, face-to-face with a journalist, seemed to mentally recoil from that notion, wondering aloud if he “was worth a story in Connect Business Magazine.”
Most children of the ’60s lost their idealism years ago, opting for the rutted path of materialism that many of their parents and grandparents chose. But tucked deep inside the conscience of many of them rests the fond memory of their own fight for their ’60s causes.
Mark Hinton and Elton Klaustermeier stretch their definition of “customer service” miles beyond smiles. To them, the term means much more than common courtesy or on-time delivery.
Perhaps that’s why the “broken-down mill” they bought in 1973 survived to thrive as Big Gain, Inc., a major regional manufacturer of livestock and poultry feeds. Today Big Gain’s more than 100 employees formulate, manufacture, sell and deliver feed to dealers and beef, swine, dairy, sheep and poultry producers in Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin and South Dakota.
Some folks hide from their heritage, denying their humble origin. They prefer to believe they’ve never been anywhere but up, never anything but successful, self-assured and solvent.
What began as a sportsman’s show on four small Midwest radio stations evolved into a full-blown business venture that now arranges high-impact fishing and hunting adventures for companies and corporations.