Charles L. Grandey

I am the daughter of an entrepreneur.  I grew up on a farm in northern Vermont until age six, when my dad gave up farming to become an independent insurance agent.  We bought a big Victorian house  on Main Street in the village so that Dad’s office would have high visibility.  At the time I was heartbroken and missed life on the farm, but soon learned that the fast-paced village life could have its advantages, especially as I grew older.

Dad opened his insurance agency in 1960 and his business grew steadily.  I remember feeling that he must have known EVERYONE in town, as there seemed to be a steady stream of customers walking through the door.  Every morning Dad drove to a local restaurant for coffee and toast.  He bypassed the comfortable booths in order to sit in his favorite spot at the counter,  enjoying small talk with anyone who walked past.  He volunteered on town committees and became a member of the Soil Conservation Board (early eco-green) and was always available to his customers – nights and weekends if needed.

My first job was working in Dad’s office where I learned the fine art of customer service.  I filed, answered the phone, greeted customers and watched my dad work.  What did I learn from being the daughter of an entrepreneur in the early 1960s?  Well, at the time I didn’t think I learned very much, but looking back I can see that Dad really understood marketing and its importance to the survival of his small business.  Dad died in 1994 and I probably never thought to tell him thanks for all his help, just by being who he was.  I think he knows.