Probably more than a decade after living in Jackson, Mississippi, we moved back to New Orleans (actually Metairie, Louisiana). We took up with another genuine American hero, "Mr. Jim", a POW of the Japanese for over two years who endured hardships, torture, and things too brutal to mention in detail here. Mr. Jim took me under his wing and taught me about saltwater fishing and we had great times together. I had just gotten back from Vietnam; ten years had passed. It was 1981 and I was still trying to find my way back into society and I met this man who endured and saw far more than I did in my combat in South Vietnam as a Marine. Jim taught me how to trawl for shrimp and used the shrimp for bait to catch redfish and speckled trout. We caught a lot of fish together and Mr. Jim passed on some years later but that's not what this story is about.
I was working at Duplex Products, a large business forms manufacturer who had bought out Lewis Business Forms around this time, and Candy (my wife) and I had moved back to Metairie to live. Things went well for several years, with me keeping the business that I had developed in Jackson, Mississippi while adding new business in the Greater New Orleans area. The business forms industry had matured and while I was earning a great income as a commission salesman, the industry was taking hits from competition. The digital age was just around the corner and computers were becoming everyday equipment not just for the big companies but the smaller companies as well.
Since my income was based entirely upon my ability to sell at a profitable level, I hustled hard, developing relationships that would last many decades. I am ever so thankful for all of those customers who gave this young Marine a chance to serve them. Marines and other military men and women coming back from Vietnam at that time weren't always openly treated well but I have to say that my small circle of people seemed to welcome me back into the world. I worked hard, gave my best and customers seemed to like that so I continued making decent money, thinking that it would never end.
After several years working under the giant umbrella of a company that had over 200 million dollars in annual sales, the bean counters (accountants) were asked by the stock holders as to why their dividend profits were falling. The bean counters said that expenses were high with salesmen making lots of money and the only way to increase dividends was to get rid of all those salesmen making those big bucks. They (the company) started up north in Illinois and worked their way across the country and eventually headed South to Louisiana. I knew that the "hatchet man" was headed my way almost a year in advance. Eventually, he made his way to Louisiana, and I was issued a Pink Slip. The reason on the pink slip for my dismissal was "failing to fill out call sales reports". At that time, I was the most successful salesman in our region, and I always sold more than my draw, which meant I got extra checks for my commissioned sales about and beyond what I had to cover for my "draw". I had talked with my customers over that year and told them what was happening, and I asked them if I could provide them with the same quality products at the same prices, with the same service, would they come with me? Every single one of those customers said yes.
It was a Friday afternoon and the regional sales manager, a man name Bill Minnie or Minney came in and had me sign the pink slip. I was guilty of failing to fill out call sales report forms because I knew they wanted to know the specific person I was calling on at each account and I guessed that they would have a tougher time, trying to take the business from me that I had earned over those many years especially if I withheld the names of the individuals that I had developed relationships with. I figured if that was the best excuse they could come up with, it was fine with me.
The weekend was not all ice cream and apple pie. My whole world was coming down. I had worked for this company for since 1968 and now they were just getting rid of me like an old pair of shoes. I was 36 years of age with little savings, but I had amassed $50,000.00 in my profit-sharing retirement trust fund. On Monday morning I went to a local bank with my retirement fund documentation and asked for a loan of $50,000.00 to handle the cash flow of business that I hoped to hold on to. I agreed to pay off the loan when my retirement fund had been sent to me. I knew my company wouldn't be in a hurry to give me the $50,000.00 but I told the bank it would be 90 days. In actuality, it should have only taken a few days to move the money, but I knew the company would drag its feet. I had to be able to cover the sales during the time my factories invoiced me and the time my customers would pay me and I didn't want any problems. The bank asked me about my business plan, and I had it all in my head and answered each question with conviction, and got the loan. I knew this wasn't the best financial plan because taking money out of your 401K or retirement account almost never works. This time, with a tight control over accounts payable and accounts receivable and thanks to my many good customers, it worked.
It was a difficult time for me personally, with the responsibility of the world on my shoulders or so it felt. My wife was working for another company at the time, so we had health insurance through her company and while we had a young son, I felt more pressure than ever to succeed. The Marines had taught me a lot about self-discipline and I went on a tear, working harder than ever before. It wasn't uncommon to work 18 hours a day. Some nights I would wake up in the middle of the night realizing I had another order from a customer that I needed to process. This went on for several months until I had secured all of the business which I had earned over those many decades. My old company Duplex Products tried to hire young college graduates to replace me and the other salesman but the bean counter's idea backfired and created a new wave of competition they had never dreamed of. This miscalculation by the stockholders and bean counters resulted in this two-hundred-million-dollar company going out of business within two years of my dismissal. All of my customers came with me and stayed with me for decades and I am forever grateful, especially to one of my best friends and customers, Jerry Powell.
During that time, I was still trying to balance being a small businessman and enjoying the fruits of my labor, when I started looking at purchasing a fishing camp in Port Sulphur, Louisiana. I had fished very little in this area, but I had my eye on a section called Happy Jack and started researching the area, talking with anyone who would give me two words of advice. I didn't know much about Happy Jack, except the camps on Martin Lane which was the Happy Jack area could be driven to instead of going to the camp by boat. I was a one-man show, so I didn't want to get a camp where I had to drive my boat to the camp. I searched for months, even calling the Assessor's Office to inquire about who owned which camps and which lots. There was a small gray-blue camp that caught my eye, and my inquiries indicated that the camp had been for sale for quite some time but with no sale. I finally contacted the owner. His name was Mr. Langhof and when I talked with him, I just asked questions about the camp, the area, how long he had the camp for sale, and why he was selling it. Mr. Langhof was very patient with me and answered all of my questions. He told me how much he had been asking for the property, and it was over the budget that my wife and I had set. I told him that I would discuss the property with my wife and get back to him.
Weeks passed as I strained to figure out how I could justify purchasing this small but sturdy fishing camp that I could not afford to buy. By this time, my wife and I had already developed a financial way of living in which we abstained from borrowing money. If we didn't have the money, we just did without. That was the way we lived our entire life. From time to time, we had a car note but ended that as quickly as we started. The house note was something we couldn't avoid so that was that. But here we were, looking for a fishing camp, and couldn't find anything in our price range. After much thought, I made the phone call to Mr. Langhof and told him that my wife and I were interested in purchasing the camp, but we couldn't afford the price that he was asking. He stopped me right there in our phone conversation, and asked if I would be available to meet him and his wife at the camp on Saturday morning. I stammered that we still hadn't agreed on a price we could afford and he said, "Bring your wife to the camp on Saturday and you're going to buy a fine fishing camp." I reluctantly said OK, not knowing if he was just a great salesman, a great guy or just trying to get me to the table.
After discussing it with my wife, we decided to the penny just how much we could afford to pay and drove down that Saturday morning. Mr. Langhof must have been in his late 60's or possibly early 70's at this time and when we arrived Mr. Langhof was there with his wife. Candy and I introduced ourselves and sat down to discuss this very tough question. Mr. Langhof had asked me if I "really" enjoyed fishing, and I said I did. He then asked me how much I was going to offer him. Since my wife and I had discussed this in detail I told him the amount which was substantially less than what he was asking. I told him that my wife and I could not afford one penny more than what we were offering, and it was true. I offered him the most money that we could afford. He looked over at his wife and got "the nod" and he turned to me and said, "Well you've got yourself a camp." My heart was beating fast, and I looked at my wife with amazement because I wasn't expecting to buy the camp that day. I thought he was going to try and get me to raise my price but he didn't.
I'll always remember his kindness and how he required my wife be at the meeting to discuss the sale of the camp. I knew he was a family man as was I and was just so thankful as we had some of the best years in that camp. Lots of great memories with my son and extended family at that camp. Hurricane Katrina eventually tore the camp to hell, and I worked to resurrect it but just got tired of working on the camp. My good friend Paul Laplace who was a master carpenter helped me to raise and rebuild the camp and sold it shortly after that to a friend, Richard Sharp.
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Thank you Mr. Langhof, you made a young couple happy and helped to provide us with many years of outdoor pleasure.
