Bank. Instead of running for cover and tightening up on
loan policy, Bimson went out to
“sell” loans to Arizonans in
need of money. That his imagination and aggressive,
courageous policies paid off is proven by the fact that
though, in 1933, Valley National
had deposits of less than
$8,000,000, today, the Arizona bank can boast that deposits
have swollen phenomenally to over $765,000,000.
In 1959, Thomas E. Sunderland moved out of the oil
business—and into the fruit business. He took over the
presidency of the giant United Fruit Company, accepting a
job that many lesser men would have feared—or even
refused to touch. The outlook for the future at United Fruit
was hardly a glowing one when he stepped into the top
executive position. Eight years earlier, in 1951, the
company had made a profit of more than $50,000,000. In
the years that followed, profits skidded—dropping to
$12,000,000 in 1959 and dipping even lower to less than
$3,000,000 in 1960.
Thomas Sunderland soon proved that he deserves to be
ranked high among the elite of the business world. Sunder-
land gave the huge company a thorough, top-to-bottom
overhaul. Confident and enthusiastic, he launched a
massive counterattack against all the factors which were
causing United Fruit’s profits to fade. He shifted personnel,
revised policy, modernized methods, reduced costs and
increased efficiency. He achieved remarkable results in
record time. In 1961, United Fruit reported that second-
quarter profits alone exceeded $6,500,000. The company’s
stock, which had slumped as low as 17 1/4, had risen to 27
3/8 by January 1962.
Anyone having knowledge of the American business
scene could cite countless other examples paralleling these
random few that I have mentio
ned. All would further help
to prove that when the really topflight businessman is at
bay, he very often turns adversity and even impending
calamity into victory.
I’ve encountered my share of adversity and reverses. I’ve
spent fortunes drilling many thousands of feet into the
ground at one time or another—to strike nothing but sand.
I’ve had other wells that cost other fortunes run dry or blow
up and burn. I soon learned to accept such misfortunes
philosophically and to take them in my stride, for I realized
that I would not be able to stay in business very long if I
permitted them to discourage me. In fact, each setback
seemed to serve as a special incentive and stimulus to try
again—but even harder the next time.
There were many other, more complex trials and blows,
too. I recall, for example, the
sharp break in crude-oil prices
that occurred in 1921, when oil, which had been selling at
$3.50 per barrel, dropped to $1.75 per barrel in less than 10
days—and the price continued to spiral down in the days
that followed. At least one of the companies in which I held
a substantial interest became hard-pressed for cash as a
result of the price crisis.
When I met with other direct
ors of the company, there
were those among them who verged on panic. Fortunately,
the majority remained calm and objective. Any suggestions
that the company close its doors were immediately voted
down. Instead, it was agreed to retrench and the directors
agreed to obtain the money needed to keep the company
going. They also agreed to sla
sh their compensation to the
bone and reduce management salaries until the crisis was
past. In time, the petroleum market became stabilized once
more—and as soon as conditions returned to normal, the
directors and management implemented an ambitious pro
gram which greatly increased the company’s sales and
profits within a very short period.
I also have vivid recollections of a memorable campaign
my associates and I conducted to obtain control of a large
company. The incumbent—and well-entrenched—directors
of the company fought us fiercely at every step. However,
although the financial resources at our disposal were far
less than those of the opposition, we managed to do a bit
more than merely hold our ow
n and the battle seesawed for
a considerable time.
Then, at one point, the opposition sensed that I had
almost exhausted my financial resources by buying the
company’s stock—and that for a time I would be unable to
purchase any more. As I was still far short of having a
controlling interest in the company, the incumbent
directors believed that they now had the upper hand.
Swiftly changing their tactics, they decided to allow the
issue to be decided by all the stockholders.
This, of course, meant a proxy contest. In a burst of
chivalrous magnanimity, the opposition entered into a sort
of “gentleman’s agreement” with our side. To prevent the
proxy contest from degenerating into a rough-and-tumble
fight that could injure the company’s reputation,
solicitation of proxies would be limited to one reasonably
worded letter from each side. The two letters—one urging
the stockholders to give their proxies to the incumbent
board—would be mailed in the same envelope to each
stockholder. Thus, the individual stockholder would have
both sides of the story before him— and he could make his
own decision as to which of the
two groups best deserved to
control the company.