Business Sense

My Father worked for the main bank in our home town until 1948. When I was a child there were two banks competing for whatever business a small community could generate. There was the First National Bank of Munising, and The People's State Bank of Munising. The People's State Bank survives to this day.

Dad started with that bank in 1918 as a janitor. Eventually he became head cashier, and our family grew up with banking stories and events that shaped my Dad's business outlook for decades. In 1948, Dad broke off from the bank and began his own Insurance and Real Estate business. His place of business was in downtown Munising. He rented that store front from 1948 until he closed the business in 1965.

Dad did not do too well. He stayed in business 17 years which is remarkable, but when he left the business he was broke. It is hard to imagine, but he was broke at age 65 when most are retiring. He was forced to move from his home of more than 50 years and take up residence in a large city hundreds of miles away and start over.

One of the problems Dad had was he did not have a business heart. If people couldn't pay for their insurance the old man might just fork over the premiums out of his own pocket. He would tell my Mother, they just can't pay right now, the husband lost his job, is hurt or some other reason for inability to pay insurance premiums. Dad felt everyone should have insurance to protect their property or to provide for their family in the event of their death.

One such man was Roy Graves of Shingleton, MI. Roy worked in the logging industry and eventually came to own a sawmill. He made good money furnishing maple lumber to the Japanese bowling industry when that sport became the rage in Japan in the 70's and 80's. Years before though Roy had been an independent contractor cutting and hauling logs out of the forests of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

Times were tough, work was subject to the vagaries of weather. The lumber market was always shifting. Eventually the market was in hardwoods, but still for independent contractors life was a roller coaster. One period Roy fell on hard times and had to let the insurance lapse on his logging truck. As luck would have it, the garage it was stored in caught fire and the building and truck burned up in the blaze. A few days later Roy came to my Father and asked, "Vern, you don't suppose that the insurance on that truck was still enforce?" My Dad looked it up, and to Roy's amazement and delight he found my Dad had paid the premium and the insurance would cover the loss of the truck.

For many years every time I saw Roy he would retell the story and how much he thought of my Dad. In the end, the practice of underwriting his own business cost him the business. However, one time his practice did save a man's ability to earn a living and earned my father a friend for life.