raising two babies during a time when our prospects for the future were so uncertain.
During Christmas week in 1949, I was busy putting the finishing touches on the restaurant. With plans to open for business right after New Year’s Day, my time was spent hiring a crew, setting up an inventory of food and supplies, and attending to a host of other details. I decided to call the restaurant the Colonial Inn, and planned to keep it open around the clock; I never put a lock on the door. The logo on the sign outside the front door depicted a colonial lady stirring a pot over an open hearth. The sign was lit on both sides, and our restaurant was located at 700 Delaware Avenue. It soon became a favorite eating spot. The three working shifts would be from 7:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m., another one from 3:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m., and the graveyard shift from 11:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m. We opened for business on January 4, 1950.
One of my former employees at the YMCA, Audrey Reeder, became my chief lieutenant. She and her husband Herman moved into the upstairs apartment. One of us was always available. Audrey or I was required to pull the graveyard shift when someone failed to show up for work. It wasn’t always easy to find reliable and experienced help willing to work the late-night shift. I spent quite a few nights cooking hamburgers and short orders.
The good news was that from the day we opened, the Colonial Inn was a success. Hamburgers, French fries, short orders, waffles, eggs, pancakes, tenderloin steaks, and coffee at the Colonial Inn became very popular items, and our reputation as a good place to eat spread rapidly. At one point, we had the distinction of being recommended by Duncan Hines, one of the first fast-food writers and restaurant critics.
During the first two months of operation I was able to develop and train a good staff that I could rely upon. In March, Nancy and I and the two babies drove to Miami to spend a ten-day holiday with Dr. and Mrs. Nichol. I enjoyed going back to our favorite part of the world. Sunny Miami always had a magical appeal, and we were hopeful that someday we could move there permanently. Returning to the restaurant in Wilmington, we found that things had gone very smoothly in our absence. In fact, I was hardly missed. Sales had been good, and I was pleased with the results. Business was picking up faster than I anticipated, and with profits building up, it appeared that our financial crisis might be over. It felt good to begin paying off some of our debts.
With the Colonial Inn operating on a profitable basis, my confidence level returned. Before long I was deeply involved in developing plans to open a second restaurant. These were pretty heady times for me! The Colonial Inn took in $90,000 in sales during its first year, and out of that I was able to net $15,000, which seemed to be all the money there was in the whole world. These numbers don’t seem like very much nowadays, but in the 1940s, this was big time!
The money part of it was great, but so was the sense of accomplishment that came with opening a successful business of my own. I was twenty-three years old when I opened for business, and the success I enjoyed simply reinforced my confidence and determination to become a very successful restaurateur. This was what I was trained for, and this was the only business I knew anything about.
One never knows what is possible until they step out into the foray and try it for themselves. Fear makes you stay unless courage propels you forward. The Colonial Inn whetted my appetite for growing in the restaurant business, and I was anxious to keep moving. I had no idea how far it would take me, but I was ready to give it a try.
The Brickell Bridge Restaurant
Life is a learning experience, and as a young person entering the world of business, I always knew that I had an awfully lot to learn. I have often looked back on my first few years and tried to make a note of the mistakes I made and what I might have learned after making them. If I had to counsel young people taking their first tentative steps in a business venture, or even starting a new job, here is what I would tell them.
Try to acknowledge the possibility that you are not as smart as you might think you are. If you think of yourself as too smart, you will probably make some mistakes you could otherwise avoid. You may need your coworkers friendship someday, but you could lose it in an instant by being too overbearing, cocky, or arrogant. A little humility will go a long way. I never knew anyone who learned anything by listening to himself talk.
One of the most important pieces of advice I got came from Harvey C. Fruehauf—who led the Fruehauf Trailer Company during its important years of expansion—was: “Act in haste and repent at leisure.” I met Harvey in 1956, and he became a valued friend, business associate, and mentor. His counsel and friendship meant a lot to me, and I often wished that I had known him a bit earlier.
I drove the family to Miami again in February of 1951, when Dr. Nichol was moving his practice from downtown Miami to a new facility called the 550 Building, which was then under construction on Brickell Avenue. It was the first commercial office building constructed on the west side of the Miami River. Dr. Nichol advised me that the new building was looking for a tenant to operate a restaurant on the ground floor. He suggested that I consider the possibilities of leasing this space. I looked at it, but I was a bit overanxious and careless in my evaluation of both the location and the South Florida restaurant market itself.
It was important for me to judge the potential of opening a restaurant in Miami. To begin the process, I ate in a number of busy restaurants that I had heard about. I was amazed at what I discovered. Most restaurants had long lines of people standing out front waiting to get in! After standing in a number of those lines and putting up with frustrating delays in getting seated, I often received poor service and mediocre food. I was unimpressed with the restaurant operations, but what did impress me was the thought that if these restaurants could attract so many customers, then I could make a fortune in Miami. This was a case of quick, impetuous judgment. I had set myself up for the shock of my life.
I was looking for a good excuse to move the family to Miami and, without carefully examining the situation, I signed a lease for half of the ground floor space in the 550 Building and committed myself to opening a restaurant there. The lease provided that I would occupy this space at a monthly rental of $884. I jumped into this deal without taking the time to draw up a business plan, work up a menu strategy, or consider my limited financial resources.
I figured that I could attend to all those details later. Mine was a case of careless examination, arrogant overconfidence, and a lack of judgment. I convinced myself of a couple of things: that Miami was in desperate need of more good restaurants, and that this was a good location. I was dead wrong on both counts.
After signing the lease, I began to think about what kind of restaurant would be best suited to that location. I decided that the restaurant would serve breakfast, lunch, and dinner and stay open from 7:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m., seven days a week. The layout would include of a soda fountain designed to serve short orders during breakfast and lunch hours. The remaining portion of the dining area would feature tables, booths, and waitress service. The restaurant would seat a total of eighty customers.
The plan seemed simple enough, but life was about to become complicated. When I returned to Wilmington, I faced the job of finding a manager to take over the Colonial Inn. I needed to do this before I could move the family to Miami. I decided to keep the Colonial Inn because I expected that it would help to pay our living expenses in Miami. Another problem involved selling the farm, and this meant that Nancy and the children would have to remain in Wilmington until we could find a buyer. I planned on returning to Miami in early May after I finished the design for the restaurant. This would give me time to order the equipment and get the business ready to open in early fall.
It was when I returned to Miami in May that I received the shock of my life. The restaurant activity I had witnessed in February was practically nonexistent in May! It had never occurred to me that Miami was a seasonal