OVERCOVER BOSS

Many years ago, when I was a youngster about 11-years old, Dad started to take me to work with him on Saturdays to Rollic Inc., on Main Street in Patchogue. One might refer to it as a sweatshop with its low paying jobs for the operators of the sewing machines. It had been around since the 30’s and there was even a picture of the work floor when it first opened that sat very large in black and white over the entrance to the factory on the wall of the office. It was a very successful supplier of children’s play clothes for the then Sears and Roebuck stores. I would get a few bucks to help Dad, and I loved the money.

As you are aware there is a show on Friday nights called Undercover Boss, and takes the CEO into a disguise as he goes through his company seeking answers to questions about success and failure, morale and conditions of workers. At the end he gives away money, vacations and other things such as training for higher jobs. The recipients usually have very sad stories about a loved one or themselves, and the healing hand of the CEO reaches across the table and everyone cries, a feel good show.

Rollic had a CEO and owner, Mr. Alexander Wilhelm Pfieffle, (The old man) who was the kind of guy who could fit the bill. There was always talk from the disgruntled failures in the company that knocked him and they really never could come to understand what it meant to own a business. They were employed by his good graces and probably could not make the money they were making if it weren’t for him. None of these guys were rocket scientist, and outside of their little worlds there was not very much. He was a tough old SOB, could get under your skin and was very demanding of his work force. But under the cashmere sweater, the alligator shoes and blue Cadillac was a heart of compassion and gold.

The Old Man was also on the board of the local bank, and a patron of his local church, while also a fireman and I believe a former fire chief.  Dad had a great deal of respect for him and he had for Dad. They fought like cats and dogs when the day was over, both knew where the other was coming from.

Once Dad was leaving work on a Saturday about noon, and he goes out to his car and finds one of his tires is flat. This is the late 1950’s and the Old Man comes by and sees it. He takes a walk around the vehicle and sees the shape of the rest of the tires and reaches into his pocket, and pulls out cash enough to buy 4 new tires and tells Dad to go buy himself some tires.

My first art job!

There were the summers when he would hire kids home from high school and college and give us jobs, and if we had friends, they got jobs too. And there was the time I was in college, in 1967. It was a beautiful warm evening on April 14^th, a Friday and I was heading back to my rented room in Hicksville when I was involved in an automobile accident that almost took my life. He created a job for me to design ads and in-store displays while in a full leg cast, and giving me money to cover my tuition for the coming semester.

Then there was the day my folks wanted to buy a new house: he made them go to his bank where he got them a great mortgage and a great rate, always taking care of Dad. Just the best boss you could really have.

So he was a generous man, not only to his employees but also to the community, and he could give you an uplifting hand when you needed one, but didn’t ask. He deserved to be rich, but not so much because he WAS rich or helped others less fortunate, but because he built the business himself through hard work and the loyalty of those who believed in hard work themselves. I had two aunts who worked for him; one was instrumental in getting Dad the job, and two sisters who worked in the summers along with me.

He may be gone, but not forgotten by me!