Part 2: Focus on the Finish Line
Part 1
I figured out early in my career that the trick to accomplishing big, bold objectives was never allowing your mind to entertain the thought of failure. Over the years, I’ve watched numerous people blow tremendous career-changing opportunities which rarely appear because they couldn’t muster the courage to believe in themselves – despite what I considered to be more than adequate capabilities. Or they embraced the challenge, knowing that failure might be an option. It could just be my internal wiring, but I immediately picture myself crossing the finish line when faced with seemingly impossible tasks (thanks, Mom). My focus always starts with trying to raise the bar with the objective at hand. While some might consider this blind ambition, this characteristic has never failed me. It’s helped me accomplish some fantastic achievements during my career. However, in my experience, you significantly improve your odds for success if you align your opportunity pipeline with a core passion in your life. I’m incredibly passionate about technology and always looking for opportunities to push it to its limits.
It’s late summer 1996, and I’m on a mission to build one of retail’s first websites. My vision for retail’s future was crystal clear. Internet web stores would become not only a new shopping channel for retailers; they would revolutionize the entire industry in ways I couldn’t yet comprehend. My solicitation for support to our board of directors had died on the vine. But I was undeterred. I’d accurately predicted the wave of personal computing and bet my career on it. This vision was just as strong, more potent in fact. I had to prove I was right, and the opportunity was staring me in the face.
Keep Your Eye on the Target
I love coding and don’t get intimidated by taking on new forms of it, although I’ll admit, the new “internet code”, HTML, seemed pretty strange. The concept of pushing a button and having that code immediately impact the world was exhilarating. It fueled my passion to a level I’d not yet experienced before. I was insatiable and poured myself into the task at a pace that surprised even me. That is until I hit a wall. The internet was pretty new, and I was doing this under the radar. I only had so much time to devote to it, and failure wasn’t in the work plan. For the first time, my confidence was wavering. Fear is a powerful motivator if you can convert it into motivational energy.
After struggling for a few sleepless nights, I remembered a trick I’d learned as a programmer in college. I was learning the programming language Pascal, and I’d hit a similar wall during an assignment. After unsuccessfully racking my brain, I headed over to the computer lab to seek help. I ran into a guy who suggested posting the problem in a Pascal “forum” on Compuserve. I was vaguely familiar with forums, which are chat rooms focused on specific topics. I gave it a try and amazingly received a brilliant solution the next day. Through those forums, I learned that sometimes, in a crunch, it’s better to “borrow” good code than invent it depending on your end game plan.
Know Your End Game
My end game wasn’t to become a great web developer. I just needed a website, and fast. I tapped into a new thing called a search engine (there were several out by 1996, including infoseek, Yahoo, excite, and altavista – Google didn’t launch until 1998). I scoured the web for a respectable website structure I could “borrow.” I was stunned by what I found, discovering that the web was an endless reservoir of unlimited information and knowledgeable people – for free in real-time. Within days I relegated the books to reference material and compiled a base website structure from various sources. I branded the site and loaded the relevant company and product information. By Sunday night of the following week, I’d not only built my first website, but I’d also built one of the first retail websites on the internet.
Just Sitting in Cyberspace
The Bombay Company website was live, and I had no idea what to expect. It just existed in cyberspace – no launch, no fanfare, no marketing. The statistics at the time suggested that most people “surfing the web” didn’t fit our customer demographic, which was women in their 30’s to 50’s. In 1996 there were approximately 100,000 websites on the internet (compared to 1.5B today), accessible via dial-up modems ranging in speed from 28.8Kbps to 33.6Kbps – which is annoyingly slow by today’s standards. The biggest internet service provider was AOL, with 5 million subscribers who mostly viewed this new medium as an electronic newspaper with chat rooms. Most people never ventured out into the web as there wasn’t much to see. I started small to get a feel for this new digital playground. I had a home page with basics like store locations, a subsegment of our catalog (without the option to buy), general company info, and two submission forms—one to apply for a job, and the other for public inquiry or feedback.
Seeing Was Beyond Believing
I’d let my direct reports in on my little secret by now. They loved the fact that I was pushing the envelope with new technologies. Weekly during status meetings, we’d review our host provider’s statistics, including the number of hits and their geographical location. For three weeks, we got nothing which didn’t surprise us. We explored strategies to expose the site to our customers without raising too much internal attention. And then we got the report for week four.
We started getting hits – from all over the world.
I figured we’d eventually get hits from the states we had stores, but I never dreamed we’d get hits internationally. We’d received hits from Italy, France, Germany, and England – but astonishingly also Egypt, Iceland, and South Korea. We were stunned. It was unexplainable. We spent days trying to figure out how this was possible and came up with nothing. My non-technical executive assistant was the genius who figured out these were board military wives with access to the internet who craved a piece of home. She was right, I’d been right, and the retail industry would never be the same.
Technology’s Cool. Politics Suck.
I shared my stunning discovery with our CEO Bob Nourse and CFO Jim Herlihy, and while slightly miffed that I’d gone rogue, they were utterly blown away by this technology miracle. They struggled to comprehend how it was possible but green-lighted selling a few products online. While our sales barely reached a dozen units that year, my vision for using our call center to fulfill orders worked like a charm. My big, bold bet had paid off, and I couldn’t wait to take one of retail’s first web stores to the next level. I hired Microsoft to begin creating a “professional” website on their newly launched Microsoft Site Server. They admired my early vision and were impressed with my passion for technology and the retail industry – so much so that they hired me in June 1999 to build their first retail industry-focused consulting practice. I worked there for 14 years and helped shape the future of the retail industry.
Then, just as we prepared to launch a pioneer retail web store, my world came crashing down.
On September 5th, 1996, I received the inconceivable news that our board of directors had fired Bob Nourse and his wife, Aagje. They blamed it on declining sales, but I believed it was a political hit job. In my opinion, Chairman Carson Thompson, who replaced Bob as the new CEO, had pulled a coup because he wanted the job. I was devastated. Bob was named Entrepreneur of the Year for 1993 by Inc. Magazine for creating “America’s hottest company.” Aagje was the essence of class and a merchant genius with an incredible sense of style. She had revamped our product assortment in the late ’80s and was a driving force behind Bombay’s rapid growth. It was Bob’s instinct in the infamous board meeting (see Part 1) that inspired me to persevere. They were the heart and soul of The Bombay Company, and now they were gone.
A Devastating Twist. A Game-Changing Turn.
Within weeks I was sitting in Carson’s office enduring a lecture on why my IT department was “a necessary evil.” He despised technology and couldn’t comprehend its rapidly expanding role in retail. And he was furious that I’d set out to prove him wrong. There was zero chance he would allow me to build upon my initial success, and I was devastated. A few weeks later, to make matters worse, the board fired Jim, my friend and retail mentor. Just as I was blazing a trail into retail’s evolutionary future, I witnessed my vision shattered into a billion bits and bytes.
My career is replete with lucky breaks and perfect timing, and I’m immensely grateful. By God’s grace, each time opportunity’s door swung open, I walked through the door and survived – although there were a few close calls. What appeared to be a devastating blow at the time turned out to be a huge steppingstone to an incredible career in the retail industry which continues to this day.
A Blast From the Past
Bob Nourse was a board member of a young, high-energy specialty retailer called Gadzooks Inc. They provided trendy fashion to teenagers, and while smaller than The Bombay Company, they were rapidly growing. The board determined that their shoe-string technology infrastructure wouldn’t support the anticipated growth. Bob recommended that they hire a visionary Chief Information Officer to help Gadzooks embrace retail’s future. And he knew just the guy and that I was miserable at Bombay. Ironically Gadzooks headquarters was just ten minutes from my house, and I had a newborn on the way. In early 1998, they approached me for the position, and it was an offer I couldn’t refuse. A sizable increase in salary and a 120-minute commute reduction was the icing on the cake. What compelled me to go was the opportunity to build a retail technology infrastructure from the ground up just as the entire industry was rebuilding. In August 1998, I made the jump.
My technology career was beginning to catch up with the only speed I know: Mach 9 with my hair on fire.
Thanks for the feedback Jim. Yes, those were amazing times. I had many fond memories at Bombay. Hope you are well.
It is a great read and a nice trip down memory lane! Jim W