Dad's Operation Killed Him

Tribute to Dad: The Natural-Born Salesman

Dad was an extraordinary father who loved his family deeply and led our home with genuine kindness. His smile really said it all. He was street-smart, incredibly personable, and the kind of man who loved meeting new people—he truly could have sold ice to Eskimos.

Unfortunately, for most of his life, he was stuck in rigid day jobs that didn't allow him to fully capitalize on his natural-born talents. The one exception early on was when he worked part-time as a waiter at a high-scale Italian restaurant. His personality absolutely shined there, and he actually made more money in tips during those part-time shifts than he did working full-time as a time-study manager!

His true transition into the world of sales happened after we moved to Wood Dale, Illinois. After a few years there, he took a part-time job delivering bakery goods to commercial customers. Seeing an untapped market, he single-handedly sold the owner on the idea of letting him sell directly to homeowners. Dad built a massive route of happy residential customers, and it grew so fast that he quickly needed to launch a second route.

I had just graduated from high school when he asked me to join him. He bought two Ford Econoline vans and equipped them with custom racks to hold the heavy trays of bakery goods. Just like that, off we went—starting our days at 3:00 AM and driving until we ran completely out of product. It was hard work, but it was my very first masterclass in sales.

The Marine Corps Spark

During my off-time from the bakery route, I spent a lot of time hanging out with my cousin Ron. Ron had recently received an honorable discharge from the Marines, and he would share all the fun, exciting stories of Marine life with me—leaving out all the pain! By November, I was completely sold on becoming a Marine myself. I went ahead and signed up, then came home and gave my Dad my two weeks' notice. True to form, he was incredibly supportive, which I should have expected from him but truly appreciated.

After I left, Dad and Ron talked, and Ron stepped right into my shoes as Dad's new business teammate. Together, they continued to build the business and even opened a retail bakery store on a busy street, naming it Sandy's after me. Sadly, the location turned out to be a tough one, and it ultimately caused the business to fail. It was a sad ending to that venture, but the love behind it meant the world to me.

A Father’s Gentle Wisdom

I don't ever remember Dad getting genuinely angry or yelling at any of us boys. When he did get upset, it came from a place of deep care, not anger. I'll never forget when my brother Ernie Jr. ran away from home all the way to Raleigh, North Carolina. When Junior called from a phone booth, terrified, Dad didn't lose his temper. He calmly talked him down and told him to go to the local police station and wait safely.

Then, Dad and I jumped in the car and drove all the way from Fairlawn, New Jersey, to bring Ernie and his friend George back home. Even on that long, exhausting drive back, Dad never got mad. Instead, he focused entirely on learning what the root problem was, helping Ernie understand the situation and teaching him how to cope with it.

Dad also gave us the lifelong gift of golf. He taught the three of us how to play, and we all fell in love with the sport. For our family, golf became so much more than a game—it was a wonderful way to meet people, build relationships, and make lasting friends.

Miss you Dad!