etitive ligenGe Saved by the Deck

By Carla Waldemar

DEAR with me: This time, the IJstorv's travelins in a little different direltion. We risually spotlight a white-hatted hero who's galloped in to save a family business, turned it on a dime in a daring new direction, and taken it to new heights-which may leave the hordes of you, without a superhero at your elbow to sneer, "Yeah, right.... Get real, will ya?"

Well, Lona Lamson, heading a fourth-generation family business in the hard-hit Northeast. is the headliner in a reality show, not a feel-good chick flick. And she didn't even plan to be here.

Her great-grandfather started R. S. Lamson & Sons as an ice-delivery business back in 1887. But the name he chose was wishful thinking, not what played out. "He had four children, but only one grandchild-my father-who had three daughters," laughs one of those daughters on the other end of the phone.

"I never expected to be here," much less president, she insists. "I got a Master's degree in educational psychology and moved to Montreal to teach. I came back home" to Hudson. Ma., "to get married. but that didn't happen. When my unemployment money ran out, I stopped in at the yard. Thirty years later." she laughs again, "l'm still here."

So's the rest of the Lamson clan, it seems. Talk about a family business! Lona's sister, Lynn, a retired teacher, is v.p., sister Leah has been recruited as a clerk. Their mother serves as treasurer, and dad, the c.e.o., still works a couple of hours a week.

Think that's one for the book of records? Then figure this in. Lamson's staff of 30 includes two fellows who are brothers; a father-and-son team: three pairs of spouses (including Lona and her hubby); several brothers-inlaw; and three more employees who are cousins. Clearly, it's considered a great place to work. "There's no turnover," Lona allows. "People like it here because it's family-run and they're treated like family. Our books are open. We pay l0OVc of health insurance. We promote from within and offer training opportunities through the NRLA (Northeastern

Retail Lumber Association)."

There's only one labor problem. but it's a key one and she knows it: "Only three people here are under 40." To pump in new blood, Lona is exploring a partnership with the local vocational school.

The biggest factor she can point to for the yard's continued survival are the roundtables organized by the NRLA. "When I took over. I had no business training." she admits. "This group of fellow dealers-non-competitors-function like a board of directors for me. asking. 'How come?' if you're not making the kind of money you'd like to. They're very critical but very supportive. We share each other's successes" as well as the brave new experiments that failed to fly and even the "What was I thinking?" episodes. valuable as learning tools. "Since I've been attending. we've got our margins up close to 5Vc-a big deal," she underlines the message.

Serving builders is Lamson's forte. always has been. "getting things out fast. same-day delivery. We were way ahead of everybody Iin service innovationsl for a while. but now, they're catching on and catching up. So we need to push the envelope even farther. We've invested in new trucks. and even our office staff will jump in one to deliver something ASAP for our better contractors." the boss reports with quiet, Northeastern pride. Revenues these days run about $12 million. an achievement made more difficult because, she says, "We're off the beaten path-about 25 miles west of Boston."

Could be better. could be worse. "East of us, the housing prices are outrageous, and to the west, it's entrylevel tracts. We're right in the middle"-a market that's suited Lamson just fine until the long-floating building bubble burst. "We serve the small, high-end builders, but their business is down. Our contractors used to be building houses in the $80O,000 to $2 million range. Now people have scaled back to $600,000 to $700,000.

To counteract the flattening of the growth curve that many a dealer is similarly experiencing, Lamson is ramping up its niche specialties, including a kitchen showroom, staffed by two salespeople (brothers-in-law. wouldn't you know?). The service. advertised in a highly professional 9" by I 2" brochure supported by vendors, is doing "very well," she reports.

Another niche she's unearthed is rehabbing old apartments. "Very easy," she notes, "and very lucrative."

Decking represents another niche that's just getting launched, Lona notes: the high-end railings and condo projects that sales manager Mark Saario takes on. It's his baby. Mark is one of those treasured under-40 assets of the company, and his enthusiasm for his job just about melts the phone wires. "The deck business," he jubilates. "is booming. Decks are our main selling factor, and they're doing absolutely wonderful. Every day I'm sending deck material out."

Mark is a big-time booster of Premier, a high-end composite decking. "We're the leading single-yard seller of Premier handrails in the country," he has earned the right to boast. "We stock so much that I can buy it by the truckload, which cuts our costs-and which savings I pass on to the contractor. We sell tons and tons of it. Already today"-this is 9 a.m."I've sent out th-ree truckloads."

This passionate salesman has landed the deck accounts for three new condo projects, and counting. His next statement almost goes without saying: "I take great pride in what I do. I don't make a million dollars, but I'm more concerned that the customer gets a wonderful product rather than just sell them something cheap and run away. If they come in for pressure-treated wood, I say, 'Okay. But I've got something to show you....' Pressure treated decks run $800 to $900, while Premier costs $2,000 to $2,400, but, says Mark, the customer is assured of a quality, no-maintenance investment that pays off (and Lamson, in turn, is assured of lovely margins.)

Working with Premier, Mark has hosted its Certified Premier Railing Institute, which provides contractors with hands-on, real-world installing experience. At the end of the session, they receive a certificate to back this knowledge. "At the first event, there were five contractors, here for the hot dogs," Mark guesses. "At yesterday's event, there were almost 30-and only half bothered to eat. They listened to the Premier rep talk for about 45 minutes, and not a peep. My boss"-that's Lona-"looked out her window and almost jumped out of her skin."

Those extra-mile services make the crucial difference between black and red ink in today's market, where the competition's beyond fierce. "At any one project, you'll see salesmen from five different yards," Lona reports, "so you've got to keep out there with service." (That, and hand out those popular logo t-shirts and Red Sox tickets. Both have proved successful loyalty builders, especially with a Depot, and soon a Lowe's, just down the road.)

Will the boxes affect Lamson's ways of doing business? Not much. But, swears Lona, "when they come in, I'll stop being open Saturday mornings," a service to the walk-in trade that's a carryover from her father's reign she won't miss one bit.

To curb rising costs, she shopped around for new insurance and pondered - but ultimately rejectedadding a fuel surcharge. "I overheard a contractor complaining that another business had started doing that. He was saying that he'd never trade there again. I don't want that."

So what. then. is the sure-fire answer to future success? As we stated at the outset, this is a true-life story, not a fairy tale. Realistically, Lona foresees a flat year for the lumber industry in general, "and for smaller businesses like us, I just don't know. We've been approached [for a buyoutl, but when three daughters are involved...." And kids. And brothersin-law and cousins. don't bet on it.

- A frequent writer on LBM, contact Carla at cwaldemar@ mn.rr.com.