A Life Lesson about Customer Service
The year was 1967. I walked 'town,' our years-long gathering place for my friends and me. When we all were permitted to ride our bikes the three miles from home to 'town,' we would congregate at Ben Franklins to buy hair ribbons, candy, and Archie comic books.
Now, in high school, we either walked to 'town' or arranged for rides with our mothers, who were at the precipice of feeling the relief and terror of their children getting the licenses. I walked by our local bakery, Country Maid, waiting for my friend to arrive.
As I contemplated buying a chocolate chip sweet roll, my eye caught a small white slip of paper on the window next to the door. HELP WANTED- APPLY WITHIN. Before I knew it, I was inside my future boss's office, Carol, filling out an application. I told her I would be sixteen in six months and that until then, transportation would be no problem.
Carol was friendly yet stern and businesslike. She and her husband Albert were German, as were several key staff members. We toured the bakery. She introduced me to Albert, who arrived at their bakery every morning at 3:30 am to bake bread, coffee cakes, donuts, and sweet rolls. Albert continued the tour, and Carol returned to her office. I later found out to call my mother.
I had never interacted with anyone so businesslike, and she was intimidating. My mind was on the delicious smells when she interrupted my thoughts and told me I was hired. I would earn $1.10 an hour. She sized me up and handed me a pink uniform.
"You can work fifteen hours a week, two days after school and Saturday. Your hours will vary. Our customers are our lifeblood. It would help if you smiled and spoke up because I notice you mumble. It would be best if you treated them respectfully. Some will be difficult, but that does not matter. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I said meekly, regretting the impulse to apply.
I did as she taught me for the six years I worked for her. My favorite times were when the bakery was closed, and her 'girls,' as she called us, packed hundreds of pounds of cookies to fulfill holiday orders.
The few times I did mumble or become irritated with a customer, I heard about it sometimes in front of the customer. When I mastered that skill, I was promoted to taking orders on the phone and dispersing them.
Carol and Albert had a vision. They eventually sold the bakery, which was their plan all along. They moved to Pennsylvania to raise their two daughters. They bought a McDonalds franchise and then another and another.
I did not hear from her again. Sometimes, I would hear about Carol and Albert from work acquaintances. I would often think about Carol as I started working full-time after college. I cannot imagine a better role model for teaching me the importance of customers and how far you can go in life with a strong work ethic. Their story would be relevant today for anyone wishing to start a business.
What are your family business stories? I would love to help you write your written legacy.