The Blue Collar Boardroom

Dinner didn’t start until Dad got home. Sometimes it was at five o’clock—biscuits buttered, chicken roasted. More often than not, a drywall installation ran long or the final touches on custom cabinetry turned into a late-night on the job and a reheated pot of soup.

Family dinner was non-negotiable. No phones, no excuses, no TV humming in the background. You sat, ate what was served, and talked—or listened—as Dad gave the report from the job site. No job was too small to escape his attention to detail and love of the craft of fine home building — every customer mattered.

Some evenings we’d discuss the custom maple flooring in a remodel or the stunning Italian marble countertops that were being installed at a new cottage overlooking Lake Michigan. Late evenings would bring a report on the drywall installer’s mom’s surgery – when Dad would have to cover for a last-minute delay.

The calls from clients who rang my dad at odd hours and on holidays and weekends never were answered with haste. The money sent to a guy from the lumber yard who had to drive long hours south to take his daughter to the hospital for cancer treatments was shared without expectation. There was always time to swing by the latest new home build with donuts for the guys, or stop by an old customer’s home to linger over a coffee and take a look at a sticky door handle.

As a little girl I’d “help” run errands with him. I’d sit in the cab of his maroon Chevy pickup with a Duran Building Inc sticker on the side, rolling my eyes as he took his sweet time to drop off a check or pick up a load of lumber. Not because there was a busy counter or a long line, but because he was catching up on the latest news from the receptionist’s daughter’s softball game.

People always came first.

Years later, I found myself working in New York. A grey boardroom took the place of our snug, wood-paneled dining room. Square sandwiches peeking out of plastic film from equally square white boxes didn’t taste anything like mom’s Beef Barley Stew. We discussed the best advertising strategies to sell more Cheerios to the underserved market of Hispanic moms in the greater Northeast. We set goals for ARR and NPS. Profit was the biggest metric on the table.

When I remember dinners around the table in the Blue Collar Boardroom as a little girl, the two things that mattered most were simple: People and Quality.

You cared for your customers, employees, contractors and suppliers— personally. Everyone was treated like a friend and with respect. You always delivered a high-quality product. The bar was never lowered, even if it meant losing money or a late night. The motto for the business was Excellence Always. Prioritize people and quality above everything, and let the rest come.