David Glass, a Successful Successor; Tumbling Tumbleweeds and a First Date

Successful Successor: You probably know the name Sam Walton. He’s the small town Arkansas retailer who turned a five-and-dime chain store operation—the largest Ben Franklin variety store franchise in 1962—into what is now the largest retail company in the world, Walmart. Sam (I’m entitled to call him by his first name because I knew him and, more importantly, he knew me) was as much a showman as a retailer. He knew how to get the most out of people, whether they were store managers, headquarters buyers, truck drivers or cashiers. 

Another aspect of Walton’s success was his ability to spot and employ talent. He chose David Glass years before Glass succumbed to the call from Bentonville, Ark., to become the chief financial officer of a chain with less than a billion dollars in sales. As flamboyant and media savvy as Walton was, Glass was the opposite. Glass was a numbers man. Though he had a dry sense of humor, he was mostly taciturn in public. He let the numbers do most of his talking. 

Glass (I could call him David, for we knew each other, as well) championed supercenters, the cavernous combination of discount stores with a full-fledged grocery, as he had worked for a supermarket chain prior to joining Walmart. His advocacy was spot on. Walmart today sells more grocery items than anyone else in the world. 

When Walton retired as CEO in 1988, Glass succeeded him. During his 12 years at the helm, Walmart sales grew from $16 billion to $165 billion. He pursued international expansion. 

News broke over the weekend that Glass died January 9 from complications from pneumonia. He was 84.

After his retirement in 2000, Glass indulged his passion for baseball by buying the Kansas City Royals. For years the Royals struggled under Glass’ Walmart-inspired low-cost creed. But in 2006 he reversed course, hired Dayton Moore as general manager and started investing in personnel. The Royals won the World Series in 2015. Last year Glass sold the franchise for about $1 billion. Not bad for his initial $96 million investment.

As much as Glass was instrumental for Walmart’s success, it was his time before the NBC Dateline television camera that sticks in my mind. He was not the most approachable of Walmart executives. Behind his resonant baritone voice and wry sense of humor, I always suspected he did not like sharing anything with the press. 

His signature moment with the media occurred in December 1992 on NBC Dateline. Glass was confronted with allegations Walmart suppliers in Bangladesh employed underage child laborers, that the company’s vaunted Made in America program was a sham.

At the time, Glass had bushy, dark eyebrows that slanted up his forehead. With the Dateline camera angled from below his seat, he was the picture of Mephistopheles. He was the picture of evil incarnate.

Glass stormed out of the interview. Though he returned to face the Dateline cameras weeks later, the damage to his and Walmart’s reputation was done. 

Shortly after that incident Walmart professionalized its media relations office. Camera angles were to be scrutinized as diligently as profit and loss statements. 

Tumbling Tumbleweeds: The national weather has been frustratingly crazy of late. Torrential rainstorms. Tornadoes in the heartland and south. Heat waves in the northeast followed by a massive snowstorm blasting across the continent. And earlier this month a mess of tumbleweeds in the Pacific Northwest that buried cars and stalled traffic on a state highway in Washington (https://www.livescience.com/tumbleweed-traps-cars-washington-highway.html).

Have you ever driven as a tumbleweed swirled into you? I have. It was a scary experience.

As I was motoring—okay, speeding—down an interstate outside Reno, NV, on my way to an interview at a JC Penney distribution center a wall of tumbleweeds three lanes wide was blowing towards me. There was no avoiding a collision. I braced for contact. 

When it happened I could do nothing more than smile at my naiveté. Had I not watched so many westerns to know tumbleweeds were mostly air? When my car penetrated the tumbleweed it was as if it evaporated before my eyes. 

It was a surreal experience. 

A Different Drummer: I just finished watching a CNN documentary recorded earlier this month about Linda Ronstadt. Like many I rank her as one of my all-time favorite singers. 

I first saw Ronstadt in concert at Brooklyn College in the fall of 1968. Linda Ronstadt and the Stone Poneys were the opening act for Country Joe and the Fish. I can’t remember much about Country Joe, but from the moment Ronstadt started her group’s set by wailing “Different Drum” EVERYONE knew hers was a voice that couldn’t be contained within the walls of a concert hall. 

As an associate- and eventual chief editor of a college newspaper I scored free tickets, always in good locations, to many concerts. Not that tickets cost a lot back then. For a Joni Mitchell-Tim Hardin concert a month later ticket prices were $3.50, $3.00 and $2.50. In today’s dollars that would be $25.71, $22.04, and $18.37, respectively. 

College concerts back then mostly featured folk musicians and comedians. Gilda’s and my first date was a Tom Paxton-Dick Gregory concert in December 1969. Gilda asked me to accompany her to a Christmas party one of her political science teachers was hosting in his Brooklyn Heights apartment. I said I would go only if she was my date for the Paxton-Gregory concert. The rest, as they say, is 50 years and running history. 

Passings in My Profession: 5 Killed at a Newspaper, the Sale of My Employer of 32 Years

I was touched by two events Thursday, one that made national headlines, the second another example of economic realities in today’s business environment. 

Both events involved my chosen profession, journalism. 

When news broke of the fatal shooting at the Capital Gazette in Annapolis, my mind raced back 41 years. In early 1977 I turned down a job offer at the newspaper. I had left my newspaper job in New Haven in September 1976 to work as press secretary to a congressional candidate in a race both he and I knew he would lose. But the opportunity to leave The Register for “something” was too appealing to pass up. For two years management had frozen our salaries after the editorial staff voted in the Newspaper Guild. It was not easy living on $200 a week (as one of six bureau chiefs on a staff of 100 I was one of the better paid reporters. About a year later the union won a contract. Had I stayed I would have been paid about $450 a week). 

Once the congressional race ended as expected, I began searching for another newspaper job. The Gaston Gazette in Gastonia, NC, a suburb of Charlotte, offered $200 a week. After all, the editor reasoned, it was a lot cheaper to live in Gastonia than New Haven. When I demurred, he upped the offer to $250 a week and membership in a country club (I don’t think he knew I was Jewish). There was one catch, however. Instead of the two reporters he hoped to hire, for $250 a week he expected me to do the work of two staffers. Again, I resisted the call of the South.

My next possibility was a job at the Capital Gazette. Again, $200 a week. As my brother and his family lived some 50 miles away in Rockville, MD, Annapolis appealed to me. However, the state capital and home to the Naval Academy was a high priced community to live in. No way $200 a week was going to cut it.

A few weeks later I answered an ad in The New York Times from a trade publisher. I started at Lebhar-Friedman’s Nation’s Restaurant News March 14, 1977. A year later I transferred to Chain Store Age, a title that appeared on my business cards for the next 31 years. I retired in June 2009.

On Thursday, family-run Lebhar-Friedman, founded in 1925, was acquired by Chicago-based EnsembleIQ, a portfolio company of RFE Investment Partners, a private equity investor. At one time L-F had as many as 16 publications, half covering the retail industry, the rest healthcare, employing more than 500. At the time of the sale, only three books remained, Chain Store Age among them, as well as two CSA conferences, SPECS and X/SPECS dealing with store construction and facilities. The company employed fewer than 100. 

What happened? Consolidation of the retail industry at the same time more publications entered a shrinking field. These competitors were more nimble, with lower operating costs, allowing lower advertising rates. L-F always used internal funds to power growth. But an ill-timed, ill-advised acquisition into the healthcare field saddled L-F with heavy debt just when revenues toppled. The Internet sapped classified advertising while forcing investments that did not pay off. 

No need to elaborate any more causes. My bottom line: The 32 years I spent at Lebhar-Friedman as a staff editor, editor-in-chief and publisher afforded the opportunity to support my family and treat them to pleasures not experienced by many others. We travelled across the country and to distant lands. My children attended top schools. During the summer they went to camp or travel programs. Our home, I like to say, is the “house that Chain Store Age built.” 

Working on Chain Store Age from 1978 through 2009 enabled me to meet and at times befriend some of the most important retail luminaries of the last half century, including Sam Walton, Charles Lazarus and successive heads of Walmart, Sears, Kmart, JC Penney and many chains no longer around including TG&Y, Caldor, Zayre, Rose’s, Woolworth. Equally, if not more importantly, working at L-F introduced me to some great creative professionals. 

I am saddened by the loss of the Lebhar-Friedman nameplate. But I am comforted that Chain Store Age-SPECS-X/Specs will continue to provide, in the words of David Shanker, CEO of EnsembleIQ, “a comprehensive view of retail insights and information.”

Judge Not

Twelve years ago tomorrow, according to the Jewish calendar, Nathan Ancell passed away.

He was 91, a frail man. I didn’t really know him. He was a member of my synagogue, a regular attendee of Sabbath services. He sat in the back. Back then I was the head gabbai of our congregation (a gabbai, for those not familiar with the Hebrew term, is a glorified head usher, assisting the clergy by handing out honors and maintaining proper decorum during the service).

As I walked around the sanctuary, I’d notice him sitting by himself, barely able to stand when necessary, suspenders keeping his pants high up on his torso in the manner of many an elderly man.

The day after Nathan Ancell died on May 31, 1999, his obituary made the front page of the NY Times!

Needless to say, I was flabbergasted. And professionally embarrassed, for you see, though I was a supposed maven of retailing, I was unaware Nathan Ancell was a co-founder of Ethan Allen, a visionary responsible for pioneering the concept of selling furniture in room settings. Far from being a down-and-out old timer, Nathan Ancell was rich, very rich.

Only after I confided my blunder to Gilda did she inform me that she had been to his home and it was spectacular.

That old saying is true...you can’t judge a book by its cover.


Penney for Their Thoughts: The last time JC Penney made a bold corner office move, as it did earlier this week naming Apple’s Ron Johnson their incoming chief executive as of Nov. 1, I was very much a part of it.

Penney’s problems today resemble those it had in the late 20th century. It was a muddled, middle of the road department store, with little to entice shoppers to walk its aisles, unless they were headed to a bathroom or to their car. Penney’s senior management were nice guys, but not really up to the task of making the retailer a meaningful shopping destination.

In April 1998 I wrote in my magazine, “Something radical must be done. Penney needs to break the mold of inbred succession it has clung to since James Cash Penney retired if it wants to make serious headway with its department store strategy.

“I nominate Allen Questrom.”

Questrom was the former ceo of Federated Department Stores. He had merged it with R.H. Macy. He was a merchandising wizard with strong people skills.

Penney’s board of directors discussed my suggestion at its next meeting, but nothing happened, until July 2000, when Penney named Questrom its next chairman and ceo. Everyone in the press clamored for an interview; when Questrom was shown a copy of my April 1998 editorial, he granted me the first one.

Questrom left Penney in 2004, replaced by Myron “Mike” Ullman. Ullman had been chairman and ceo of Macy and other high-end retailers, but his expertise was in finance. Penney initiated some strong cross-merchandising agreements with companies like Sephora under Ullman, but has not been able to have any sustained breakout ideas. It also suffered as its core middle and working class clientele pulled back spending during the recession.

There’s no doubt Johnson is the fair-haired executive in retailing. Apple stores scoop up an estimated $4,000 in sales per square foot. Penney, by comparison, does under $160.

It would be presumptuous to believe Johnson could jump-start Penney’s performance based on his Apple experience. For one, the product lines are too dissimilar. Apple has a limited number of stock keeping units (SKUs) vs. the wide assortments at Penney. Apple’s SKUs are rather pricey compared to underwear, socks, or a men’s suit or dress. Apple stores are an electronics playground, visited by dedicated, some might say, brainwashed, customers and would-be acolytes, with lots of committed, helpful staff in a small store format. Penney’s stores are huge. Staff is there mostly to replenish stock and straighten up, not sell, for there are few customers who need help picking out a set of towels or a prom dress.

Despite being sold at full price, the uniqueness of Apple products—the iPad, iPod, iPhone, iTouch, MacBook—draws shoppers into Apple stores. While other retailers in a mall are almost empty, even in midweek Apple stores are abuzz with activity. Penney might have unique merchandise as well, but its private label apparel and home goods must compete with name and designer brands often sold at a discount in countless stores in the mall and strip centers.

Johnson’s challenge will be to sprinkle into the mix enough products that are exclusive to Penney and create excitement around them. It’s not his Apple experience that will serve him well here, but rather his time as head of merchandising for Target. Just as Target has a cult-like following for its Michael Graves housewares and other trendy goods, Penney will have to undergo a transformation in the consumer’s mind.

Can it be done? Can Johnson do it? He’s probably among the few executives who could. But he’ll need help turning on the spending spigot. He’ll need an improved economy with stronger home sales. Until middle America starts spending again, Penney will just be treading water.