Mañana Man's Fan Mail —DeWese
THANK GOD I didn’t help the man in the letter below. My bride, Attila the Nun, will tell you if I offer to help you, you should do something to distract me, and then run like hell.
I’m going to change or redact the names of the letter writers in this column. The first letter is one I got in January (this year), and it is a classic example of the power of human enterprise.
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It was four years ago now that I first contacted you in hopes you could help the company my father and I were running. You asked about the plant, what our sales were, which were only $1.5 million, and you said that there was nothing you could do for me at that time, which I understood.
I just want to thank you for not helping! For it allowed us to go through a hard time mentally and financially. The crew we had was let go, and the plant was shut down.
(That’s me. Ol’ Mr. Helpful.)
My father, Bill [Redact], went off and pursued a real estate career, and I went off to a “Giant Financial Company.” At the time our plant was closed, another printing facility in Brooklyn, NY, was also closing—not because of financial problems, but due to a buyout by a (real estate) developer.
Irv [Redact], who owned the printing company for more than 60 years and was one of its founders, was retiring. His son, Myron [Redact], was still interested in staying in the printing business.
Irv and my father knew each other from the industry and had a friendly relationship, especially at printing equipment auctions, for Irv would always out-bid my father on equipment. They became good friends, and Irv told his son to look into this plant in Northeast, PA—the one that my father and I ran before it closed.