I was comfortable at the Convention and Visitor's Bureau. We were at the
height of our influence. I was at the height of my influence in my
career there. No other city in the state came near to what we were
doing. In fact, we were running how-to sessions for Charlotte and
Asheville and Greensboro, and everybody else that wanted to do what we
were successfully doing. I told the executive vice president of the
Chamber one day that, "We really ought to charge for some of
this. It's wearing me out doing all these how-to's." He said,
"No. This is kind of a part of what you do. You share with the
other communities around." That was a good lesson for me to
learn, too. We started an informal organization, which now has become
the North Carolina Association of Convention and Visitor's Bureaus. I'm
the founder of that organization and served as its first president. I
served as its president for probably five or six years before we had any
formal structure to it. I didn't really want any formal structure, but
we finally put some structure to it. Well, I was at the height of my
effectiveness and had real high recognition around the Triad because of
what Winston was doing. I got a call from a man from the
Page 11Lane Company, a Mr. Hampton Powell. Mr. Powell didn't tell
me who he was. He just was from the Lane Company. Well in Winston-Salem,
from '69 to '77, we didn't pay any attention to the Market because the
Market was not open to any of us. I was the head of the Convention and
Visitor's Bureau. We were providing all these rooms. Thousands of people
were staying in Winston-Salem, and I'd never been to the Market. When
people would call, it was always because something was wrong. We weren't
doing something that they thought we should do. [They had] some problem
in a hotel or something — some perceived slight or real slight
that they had gotten in Winston-Salem. So, here comes this call from
this Hampton Powell. I don't think I returned his call immediately. When
I did return his call, I never could talk to him. He was the president
and chairman of the board of the Lane Company. I came to have a great
regard and high respect for Mr. Powell, but on the day that he called
me, I wasn't impressed. He called me and said, "We want to talk
to you. We have this—," and he just started and I
thought, "I don't know what this man's talking about, and I
don't know what he wants." As I got to know Mr. Powell over the
next long period of time, I still never figured out some days what he
wanted. Nobody else could either. He was one of those great thinkers,
but he was way ahead of what he was telling you. He called and he said,
"I would like for you to come over." I said,
"Fine" and I went over to see him. This is '76. He
said, "The Market wants to improve its image. We've got a real
problem here. We've got some real problems, and we don't know how to
handle them. We know how to make furniture. We want somebody that is
from here, because we're not. We have these factories all over and we
come in here. We've got a mess. People are mad at us, and we can't seem
to get the landlords and people to do what we want them to do. We want
somebody and your name
Page 12keeps coming up. Would you
like to talk to us about it?' I said, "Yes, sir. I
would." Well, I don't think I talked to him anymore about that
Market. Then, by October, I came back over. That was the second time I
was ever at Market in my life. He offered me a job. He couldn't define
the job. He could say what the problems were. He didn't know how to
solve them. He didn't know what needed to be done. He said,
"It's the same kind of work you're doing. We've got all of
these people coming in. They've got to be taken care of. We have all
these needs, and we can't take care of this. We just want to sell
furniture. We don't want to bother with all this. We're really scared
that this market's in trouble. We have this organization — it
was then the Furniture Factories Marketing Association of the South,
because we were the Southern Furniture Market. He said, "We
have this organization. It's been here, but we've run it as officers.
We've had an ad agency and a PR firm to help us out, but we really need
somebody full-time to look after this for us. We want you to do
it." He said, "You need to talk to three other people.
We have a committee." I really had not grasped what Mr. Powell
wanted. Even today, all of us call him Mr. Powell. He's dead now, but we
all called him Mr. Powell. He never was the kind of person that you got
familiar with. He was an older gentleman, by that time, and eccentric.
We all called him Mr. Powell. He said, "You need to talk to
these others." I went up to Martinsville, Virginia, and I had
lunch with Richard Simmons, the president of American Lawrenceville and
Clyde Hooker, the president of Hooker. It was a very cordial lunch. They
were extremely nice folks. Both were Chief Executive Officers of their
companies, and both were family companies. So, there's that kind of
interest. "How's he kin to the Bassets? How's he kin
to—?" That fascinates me. They began to say things
like, "Well, you're going to talk to Bob Spilman at Bassett
next and his wife's
Page 13my cousin." I was kind
of caught in that loop of, well I've been here and I know how important
these relationships are, and I like this. I talked to those two
gentlemen for a couple of hours. It was very nice, extremely nice. The
highest level of good taste, good manners and good grammar, so I liked
them. They said, "You need to go see Bob Spilman." So,
I had an appointment to see Bob Spilman. I went into his office. I came
to Market and came out to the showroom and one of his associates met me
and took me back to his office. He said, "I've given him a
cigar, so he'll be in a good mood." I got into his office, and
he started a very clipped style of interviewing me, which was okay. He
asked me a number of questions, and we got along very well. We
established that we were both Episcopalians. I suspect he asked me some
questions about my education. He asked me if I was married, and I said,
"No." He said, "Have you ever been
married?" [I said, "No."] He said,
"Good. I like bachelors." He said, "I'd
rather have a bachelor work for me any day, rather than a married man. I
can send you anywhere in the world I want to, and there's nobody whining
at home." I don't think that style works today, but it worked
for Bob Spilman in those days. Then he said, "And you have the
right accent. You're going to be representing the Southern Furniture
Market, and you have the accent." So I thought, "Well,
I'll try this. This is good." So, I came to work in '77 on a
loosely formatted mandate, which I have, over the last twenty years,
refined to their satisfaction. I talked to Bob Spilman last week. He's
now retired. I told him when he retired that he had always set the
standard for my performance, because I knew what he expected. I knew if
I pleased him, the rest of them would be a piece of cake. So, I did. I
used him as the benchmark of—. I always included him in
decisions and still seek his counsel. So, I came to work in '77. I
didn't know much about High Point. High Point, in that time, was
Page 14insulated from Winston-Salem because it was
insulated from everybody. The geography of the Triad then only included
Greensboro, Winston-Salem, and High Point. It didn't include Lexington
and Thomasville and all these other things that have come along since
and stretched the boundaries. We were the energy. There's historically
this little friction between Greensboro and High Point. You don't have
to scratch very deep to find some raw feelings about something. It's
because they're both in the same county. Here's Winston-Salem with this
slightly elevated elevation and attitude sitting over here on this
little hill. Greensboro doesn't like that. There's always been this
little friction. It's still there some. High Point and Winston got along
very well, but we just didn't come over here. We didn't know High Point.
Being in the industry that I was in, nobody ever invited us to Market.
We did work with the Chamber of Commerce people over here, so I knew it,
but I really didn't know the dynamics of the city. I decided to come in
'77. I left my job in Winston at the peak of my influence and came over
here. What I found was a community that understands how to identify
problems, understands how to solve them, and doesn't have what I
consider a real rough and tumble political style. I think Greensboro has
that. Winston did not have that. It does [have] some now. So, I liked
it. I had traveled in a circle, professionally, of top leaders. I had
traveled in a group of people who could get things done because they had
the resources and influence to get it done. I came right into a
situation where that existed here. The furniture industry owns this
event. It is for that group to deal with their buyers in a partnership
with the community of High Point. They have it here. So, you had pretty
much the same structure. All of a sudden you had this very well
educated, highly influential, cultured group of manufacturers dealing
with the same caliber of people in this community to get
Page 15everything done that it takes to get this project done. The
fit was very good. I was very comfortable. From '69 to '77, we learned
how to do everything we needed to do in Winston-Salem. I brought a lot
of that over. When you looked at the promotions that we've done
— that we discussed earlier — you see vestiges of my
relationships with Old Salem and Reynolda House and Blandwood and Museum
of Early Southern Decorative Arts. So, actually my career has not
changed. I'm still doing tourist promotion. It's just it's for the
largest event in North Carolina, and it's for the largest event of its
type in the world. I don't sell furniture, but my love of history
teaches me about furniture. I do marketing. I do administration. Part of
my—. I have a double major in political science and history,
and it was in administration, public, the public administration side.
So, I got off to a very good start. But, after about two weeks, I had
some real misgivings. Mr. Powell called me and said, "Rick, I
want you to have breakfast with me. I'll be in High Point, and I want
you to have breakfast with me at four a.m. I'll meet you on West Green
Drive at a little restaurant called Carl's." He said,
"It's open twenty-four hours a day." He said,
"Four o'clock." I must've hesitated, and he said,
"Is that too early?" Well, I have pretty good
instincts. I knew that that wasn't too early if that's when he wanted to
eat, so I met Mr. Powell at four a.m. All the way over here from Winston
I thought, "I have given up a good job for this?" He
met me at the door with the biggest, greasiest southern breakfast you've
ever seen in your life at four a.m. We reached an accommodation that we
would meet in the future at six o'clock. But Mr. Powell, that was a
test. Mr. Powell was very eccentric. He went to bed at seven o'clock at
night, got up at three in the morning, so his first appointment was at
three. It was the middle of the morning for him. It taught me that I
would be tested by a number of these manufacturers
Page 16as they would probably test their own employees. Between Hampton
Powell and Bob Spilman, I have obviously passed the test. Spilman will
test you too. Spilman asked me to be in his office in Bassett one
morning at seven o'clock. [There was] horrific snow. I heard the
forecast. I drove to Martinsville and spent the night. I was there
— didn't have to drive up there. There was a lot of snow. I
got to his office at seven o'clock in the morning. Nobody was there. The
building was open. Nobody was there. They had closed all the factories.
The building was closed. About eight thirty he comes in, and I'm sitting
there in the lobby waiting for him. He said, "What are you
doing here?" I said, "We had an appointment at seven
o'clock." He said, "I like that. I like that.
Okay." So, we are all tested.