The Beginning of the Supply Corporation

While business at Stuart W. Johnson and Co. was still managing to provide the principals with a comfortable living, the two partners were not seeing exactly eye to eye. Bob and I had decided to go our separate ways. It was a very amicable separation. We sat down and in a very calm and collected way made plans for this change. The big part of this deal was that Bob would keep the name Stuart W. Johnson and Co., and I would, in turn, get the part of the company pertaining to the “mail order” business of the company. The year is now 1970, and I am 50 years old and for all intents and purposes starting from scratch. The new Supply Corporation was incorporated on September, 1, 1970.
The Family Grows Up
Linda is now a sophomore at the University of Wisconsin, River Falls. I recall that when we took her up to school she complained of the bitter cold (River Falls is on the border of the state of Minnesota). I explained to her that it really wasn't that cold, that it was a dry cold and that you really couldn't feel it. I don't think she bought that story 'cause she's been cold ever since. Carol is a senior at Main South High School in Park Ridge, Illinois and she has advised us that she is engaged, and plans to get married as soon as she graduates from high school. Nancy is a freshman at Main South High school, and, well she's a freshman at Main South High School.
Pleto Turns 49
It's Friday May 2, 1969 and I'm rushing home from Lake Geneva to pick up my family and go back up to “the lake” to spend the weekend, and, incidentally, celebrate my 49th birthday. I got home and told everyone to hurry and let's get going. The doorbell rang and it was Bud and Shirley Christopher. They happened to be driving by, saw my car, knew it was my birthday, thought they'd stop in and wish me greetings of the day. I accepted the greetings and proceeded to usher 'em out the door. Marilyn suggested I offer them a drink. This I did reluctantly, the main reason being that my stock of booze was extremely low.
Now the Sheddens — seeing the Christopher’s car outside — came in to wish me the best of everything. Jim Shedden, being the introvert that he is, said, “ Boy I sure could use a drink.” The supply of booze shrunk, and I poured a half shot for Jim and watered Jeannie's drink. Ye Gods, here come the Onderdonkins. Same thing. They saw cars outside, thought they'd pay me a visit. One thing about our Park Ridge gang, if they saw a party going on and they weren't invited they just assumed that the invitation had gotten lost in the mail. More door bells ringing, more watered-down drinks. It was only when my sister and brother, and my sister-in-law from California showed up that I began to smell a rat. Marilyn had invited half of Park Ridge to show up and celebrate my 49th birthday. She felt that I would be looking forward to some such thing on my fiftieth birthday, so this would be a surprise.
The Sheddens and the Dohertys had booze and food stashed in their cars, so the party didn't go dry or hungry. As I look back, I'm so proud of Marilyn and my three daughters who arranged this party and managed to keep the secret from me.
Reality Sets In
All is not going well. It was the day before Marilyn's 46th birthday, November 12, 1970, and we were going to have party the next day to celebrate. I got sick. What kind of sick? I became very depressed. I wanted to cancel the birthday party. I felt that I had made a mistake starting a business at my age. The whole world seemed to be against me. I became a workaholic, carrying my lunch to eat in the car, buying the cheapest colas to use as a beverage, and these were always warm. I would start work at 5:30 A.M. and work 'til late at night, calling on plants wherever I would find a light or wherever I could find anyone to listen to my sales pitch. I made calls Christmas Eve morning, I worked New Year’s Eve morning, all these times when my prospective customers were having their holiday parties. I went from 200 pounds down to 160 pounds. I cried a lot. Nancy asked her Mom, “ What's the matter with dad? He isn't happy anymore, and he never whistles like he used to.”
Poor Mom. She had to bear the brunt of the whole thing. I made calls and I made sales and for all intent and purposes the new company, the Supply Corporation, was making money, but I was sick. Marilyn kept us going. Marilyn was now mother and father and she really had her own problems. Early during our married life, Marilyn was stricken with a disease known as Multiple Sclerosis. “MS,” as it is know, is a disease affecting the coating of the nerves leading to the brain. To this day there is no known cure for this dreaded disease. It can affect many people in many different ways. In Marilyn’s particular case it affected her eyes; her eyesight continued to deteriorate through the years. Marilyn never complained, always taking the attitude that it could have been much worse. In many cases people afflicted with MS could be wheel-chair bound, or lose the use of their limbs, etc. Now, however, the disease had progressed so far that Marilyn had been declared “legally blind.” They took away her driver’s license and she could no longer drive her car. Linda was away at school, Nancy wasn’t old enough to drive, so Marilyn had to depend on Carol to take her whenever she might have to go some place.
I'm sick and Christmas is coming. For years we had entertained my sister and all of her children and now her grandchildren at Christmas Eve at 531 N. Ashland Ave, and I wanted to cancel that as well. At this point Marilyn stood up to me and said absolutely not, we're not going to spoil Christmas for all of the kids. I can remember trying to put up a good front, but I was sick. I was suffering from a deep depression.
Marilyn still kept things going — Christmas gifts, food, clothing, anything that could be bought using a credit card, was bought using a credit card. She paid these off at $5.00 here and $5.00 there. I did not learn about this financial wizardry until many years later. Thank the good Lord for credit cards.
The Supply Corporation was located at Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. It was with a bit of fear that I suggested to Marilyn that it would probably be wise for us to sell our house at 531 N. Ashland Ave., and move to Lake Geneva. I think that Marilyn saw this as our only salvation. The house was put on the market, and sold!
Leaving Park Ridge
We were leaving Park Ridge to move to Lake Geneva on a permanent basis. Mare and Bill Onderdonkin invited us to their house for a drink and maybe a bite to eat. We arrived on time, as was our wont, and here came “The Gang” ladened with gifts. It turned out that this was a surprise farewell party for Marilyn and Roland.The gifts? There was a non-electric snow shovel, there was a non-electric toilet plunger, there was a naked mannequin whose nipples would light up, there was a non-electric toilet paper dispenser, and to power all these non-electric gifts we received a jar of “currant” jelly with a socket attached, into which we could plug these “non-electric” gifts. This was all a play on the “Knott Electric Co.” and its products, the electric fly swatter and the electric fork. We received — and I still have — the non-electric dart game “Hit The Boozer in The Snoozer.” The boozer with the snoozer was me and there was a huge photo of me with a target drawn around my nose. It made leaving Park Ridge to go to Lake Geneva very difficult. I was still sick. We moved to 1630 Evergreen Lane, Lake Geneva, Wisconsin 53147, in June of 1971.
Marilyn did all of the packing, I was still very sick and now was taking Phenobarbital to try and ease the depression. None of the anti-depression medication that is now available was available then. Anyhow, we moved to Lake Geneva and sold our house on the “steep hill” in Williams Bay. Now another problem of sorts.
Most of my “good” customers lived in the Chicago area, so this meant that I would now have to commute back and forth, or spend a night or two each week away from home. Linda was at River Falls, and Nancy was to be a sophomore at Badger High School in Lake Geneva. Carol was married to Michael Dahl in June of 1971.
I started the trek to Chicago, leaving each Wednesday morning, spending the night in one or another flea bag motel (cheap rates), and returning late Thursday night. I would try to save on expenses by bring home Kleenex, toilet tissue, bars of soap, and what have you that I would pick up at the motels. My Wednesday night dinners were Colonel Sanders Chicken, and a can of cola. I'd spend nights in the motels writing letters. Marilyn would type these for me when I would get home. Oh yes, I had an extension of the telephone from my office run over to our house so I wouldn't miss any calls that might come in after hours or week-ends.
My office was a “one girl” office and Debbie Greskiw was that gal. She is still the head gal at The Supply Corporation. When Debbie would go to lunch she'd call Marilyn and then Marilyn would handle any phone calls that might come in until Debbie returned from lunch. My miserable condition stayed with me from November 12, 1970 until some time in August 1971. During this period of time each morning that I would wake up go to work or whatever, knowing that there could not possibly be any light at the end of the tunnel. How was I going to survive? I had two daughters to educate; Carol had left the nest. I had a wife to provide for. It was truly a tremendous load to carry. I had quit attending Combine meetings, I wouldn't return any calls that I knew were social calls. For all intents and purposes I had cut myself off from my family and any social life, and frankly just existed to try to make a go of The Supply Corporation, so I could support my family. As I look back, I must have been some sort of a Jekyll and Hyde, because I certainly had to have been a different person when I called on my customers.
"Hit the Boozer on the Snoozer"
1630 Evergreen Lane, Lake Geneva
Things Change
It happened while I was on one of my weekly sales trips to Chicago. I spent the night in another flea bag motel. I awakened the next morning, and it was as though some one had turned a switch. That's the best way that I can describe how I felt. I was better; actually I was well. I no longer felt the pangs of the depression that I had suffered the past eight or nine months. I hurried to a telephone (my flea bag motel didn't have phones in the rooms), called Marilyn and said “Honey I'm well! I feel so much better. I'm coming home early tonight and you and I are going out for dinner.” She told me later that she could tell by my voice that every thing was now OK.
Things started humming at The Supply Corporation. We began to really operate the way we had originally scheduled to operate this new company and that was to sell almost exclusively by mail. I still went into the Chicago area to call on the customers that helped me through the dark days. Those customers who are still alive are now personal friends.

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