[Speed Gibson,
Sunday April 20, 2008 at 6:10am]
Gopherville: Chapter Four
Previously: 1 2 3
"We'll talk further at next month's meeting. Thanks, Marge." Will Kennicott, Superintendent of the Gopherville schools hung up the phone. Marjorie Brown had heard about Gopherville dropping out of the Greater Minnesota School District Association and wondered if her group was next. "Marge" headed the School Administrators of Minnesota, a professional organization for school principals, superintendents and those in-between. Unlike the GMSDA, this group included those employed by charter and private schools.
His secretary, Juanita Haydock knocked and entered. Kennicott had a distant look on his face. "You gave her the good news, right?"
"Oh, sure," said Kennicott, now smiling a little. "I was just thinking this will really confuse some people."
"Like why Marge is in and Jim is out?"
"Uh huh. In fact, that's exactly how they're going to look at it. Personally. Marge and Jim, not their organizations."
"I wouldn't know. Anyway, Paul Riesling is here."
"Give me a minute. No, wait, I'll come out with you." Kennicott followed Haydock to her desk, walked past and extended his hand to his 10:30 am appointment.
"Superintendent," began Paul Riesling.
"Call me Will. Juanita, will you show him in? I'll be back in a minute."
Riesling had grown up in Gopherville, class of 1966. After six years in the Army including two on the front lines in Vietnam, he had gone to Moorhead to earn his B.A. in Accounting. He settled in the Twin Cities, passed the CPA exam, and after 14 years working for three different firms, opened his own practice in the small suburb of Hopkins. He did well, and later expanded to offer financial planning and brokerage services. At its peak, he employed 7 people, retiring in 1999, selling the company. Paul had done well for himself personally as well by following his own firm's advice, including some great calls in the 1990's bull market. He had arrived. He had also eschewed marriage and family in getting there. Suddenly, he saw himself as unimportant. 'Who will remember me?' he wondered, suddenly seeing life very differently.
Rather than make his first hire his partner as planned for 2000, he sold it to him outright for a small down payment and a 10 year promissory note. It was a bargain, almost charity, but this way, Paul knew the business would have little trouble going forward without him. Riesling soon found outright retirement a bore. He dabbled and volunteered in various civic organizations, capped by being named Grand Marshal of the 2004 Raspberry Festival. But it wasn't what he wanted. He suddenly pulled up and moved back to Gopherville. Shortly thereafter, he bought out the budding accounting practice of Fran Dodsworth. As part of the deal, Fran stayed on part time by working nearly full time just during tax season. She also filled in to cover for Paul during his vacations and extended absences. For Paul really didn't want to be retired. He just wanted a simpler, smaller enterprise.
He also wanted to contribute to the community, not so much as a volunteer but as an actual mover and shaker. Gopherville filled this need too, by right of history and because he was now a multi-millionaire big frog in his hometown small pond. He did a number of projects, both by direct contribution and by leading fund-raisers. Some had suggested he run for office, but he had sense enough to say no.
"Thanks for waiting, Paul. I had to return that all that coffee I rented."
"Tough morning?"
"Yes and no. But what can I do for you?"
"I came to see if I can help you." Will Kennicott said nothing, but raised an eyebrow to ask how. "I read the paper. I hear people talk. The paper says money is tight here in district 352. The folks say you're a good man, that you're doing a good job, and that you deserve better. So, I came to see if I can help."
"That's very kind of you - and of those folks you mentioned," said Kennicott. "What did you have in mind?"
"That depends. I have a couple of questions first. Just so you know, I spent some time with Martin Arrowsmith Tuesday. We went over the budgets, in some detail, man to man in the CPA sense you might say. We were just about done when the call came about his mother."
"Yes, most unexpected. She was only 68. In fact, shouldn't we wait until he returns on Monday? You said you hadn't quite finished."
"No, I've seen enough numbers, I think. How about you?"
"I .. sorry?"
"Have you seen enough numbers?"
"I'm not sure I follow."
"Me, I'm an accountant. I see numbers every day. Maybe I even like it. But I don't think you're that kind of Joe."
"Really." Kennicott crossed his arms, not sure if he wanted this conversation to continue. "What kind of - Joe? - do you think I am?"
Riesling leaned back and smiled. "I sound like my old man, talking about Joes. Will, like I said, I read the papers. I talk to people. And while he did his professional best, I was able to glean a couple more points from Martin, too."
"And?" said Kennicott, coolly.
"You want it straight?" Kennicott nodded. "Will, I'm not sure this job is right for you. Oh, sure, you can do it. You've been doing it. You've been doing it well. And you're qualified as hell. But now you don't like it, or you think you don't, or at least others think you don't."
"Keep going, doctor."
"This business about making Martin report directly to the Board. What problem will this solve?"
"Look, Mr. Riesling. Speaking for the District, I appreciate whatever it is you're trying to do. I really do. But speaking for myself, maybe you had better just come to the point."
"Very well. Point one. Drop this nonsense about splitting the job, to insulate you from having to worry about the money. That was Martin's idea. He's a splendid man, a real friend I suspect, but turn him down and tell the Board. You're a team, you work well together. Don't mess it up." He paused for reaction, got none.
"Point two. Do your job. Do all of it, numbers, money, and all. Which is to say, do what you've been doing all along. Sure, the town is changing. Education isn't a growth industry anymore. But our kids still need an education. In fact, they need a better education than we got. You might have to work a little harder, but I have every confidence in you. So does the town. And so does Martin. He's got more to give if you'll let him."
"And just how would you know that?"
"Not from Martin himself, if that's what you mean. But I have my sources, sources who came to me as a matter of fact. May I continue?"
Kennicott nodded nervously.
"We'll talk further at next month's meeting. Thanks, Marge." Will Kennicott, Superintendent of the Gopherville schools hung up the phone. Marjorie Brown had heard about Gopherville dropping out of the Greater Minnesota School District Association and wondered if her group was next. "Marge" headed the School Administrators of Minnesota, a professional organization for school principals, superintendents and those in-between. Unlike the GMSDA, this group included those employed by charter and private schools.
His secretary, Juanita Haydock knocked and entered. Kennicott had a distant look on his face. "You gave her the good news, right?"
"Oh, sure," said Kennicott, now smiling a little. "I was just thinking this will really confuse some people."
"Like why Marge is in and Jim is out?"
"Uh huh. In fact, that's exactly how they're going to look at it. Personally. Marge and Jim, not their organizations."
"I wouldn't know. Anyway, Paul Riesling is here."
"Give me a minute. No, wait, I'll come out with you." Kennicott followed Haydock to her desk, walked past and extended his hand to his 10:30 am appointment.
"Superintendent," began Paul Riesling.
"Call me Will. Juanita, will you show him in? I'll be back in a minute."
Riesling had grown up in Gopherville, class of 1966. After six years in the Army including two on the front lines in Vietnam, he had gone to Moorhead to earn his B.A. in Accounting. He settled in the Twin Cities, passed the CPA exam, and after 14 years working for three different firms, opened his own practice in the small suburb of Hopkins. He did well, and later expanded to offer financial planning and brokerage services. At its peak, he employed 7 people, retiring in 1999, selling the company. Paul had done well for himself personally as well by following his own firm's advice, including some great calls in the 1990's bull market. He had arrived. He had also eschewed marriage and family in getting there. Suddenly, he saw himself as unimportant. 'Who will remember me?' he wondered, suddenly seeing life very differently.
Rather than make his first hire his partner as planned for 2000, he sold it to him outright for a small down payment and a 10 year promissory note. It was a bargain, almost charity, but this way, Paul knew the business would have little trouble going forward without him. Riesling soon found outright retirement a bore. He dabbled and volunteered in various civic organizations, capped by being named Grand Marshal of the 2004 Raspberry Festival. But it wasn't what he wanted. He suddenly pulled up and moved back to Gopherville. Shortly thereafter, he bought out the budding accounting practice of Fran Dodsworth. As part of the deal, Fran stayed on part time by working nearly full time just during tax season. She also filled in to cover for Paul during his vacations and extended absences. For Paul really didn't want to be retired. He just wanted a simpler, smaller enterprise.
He also wanted to contribute to the community, not so much as a volunteer but as an actual mover and shaker. Gopherville filled this need too, by right of history and because he was now a multi-millionaire big frog in his hometown small pond. He did a number of projects, both by direct contribution and by leading fund-raisers. Some had suggested he run for office, but he had sense enough to say no.
"Thanks for waiting, Paul. I had to return that all that coffee I rented."
"Tough morning?"
"Yes and no. But what can I do for you?"
"I came to see if I can help you." Will Kennicott said nothing, but raised an eyebrow to ask how. "I read the paper. I hear people talk. The paper says money is tight here in district 352. The folks say you're a good man, that you're doing a good job, and that you deserve better. So, I came to see if I can help."
"That's very kind of you - and of those folks you mentioned," said Kennicott. "What did you have in mind?"
"That depends. I have a couple of questions first. Just so you know, I spent some time with Martin Arrowsmith Tuesday. We went over the budgets, in some detail, man to man in the CPA sense you might say. We were just about done when the call came about his mother."
"Yes, most unexpected. She was only 68. In fact, shouldn't we wait until he returns on Monday? You said you hadn't quite finished."
"No, I've seen enough numbers, I think. How about you?"
"I .. sorry?"
"Have you seen enough numbers?"
"I'm not sure I follow."
"Me, I'm an accountant. I see numbers every day. Maybe I even like it. But I don't think you're that kind of Joe."
"Really." Kennicott crossed his arms, not sure if he wanted this conversation to continue. "What kind of - Joe? - do you think I am?"
Riesling leaned back and smiled. "I sound like my old man, talking about Joes. Will, like I said, I read the papers. I talk to people. And while he did his professional best, I was able to glean a couple more points from Martin, too."
"And?" said Kennicott, coolly.
"You want it straight?" Kennicott nodded. "Will, I'm not sure this job is right for you. Oh, sure, you can do it. You've been doing it. You've been doing it well. And you're qualified as hell. But now you don't like it, or you think you don't, or at least others think you don't."
"Keep going, doctor."
"This business about making Martin report directly to the Board. What problem will this solve?"
"Look, Mr. Riesling. Speaking for the District, I appreciate whatever it is you're trying to do. I really do. But speaking for myself, maybe you had better just come to the point."
"Very well. Point one. Drop this nonsense about splitting the job, to insulate you from having to worry about the money. That was Martin's idea. He's a splendid man, a real friend I suspect, but turn him down and tell the Board. You're a team, you work well together. Don't mess it up." He paused for reaction, got none.
"Point two. Do your job. Do all of it, numbers, money, and all. Which is to say, do what you've been doing all along. Sure, the town is changing. Education isn't a growth industry anymore. But our kids still need an education. In fact, they need a better education than we got. You might have to work a little harder, but I have every confidence in you. So does the town. And so does Martin. He's got more to give if you'll let him."
"And just how would you know that?"
"Not from Martin himself, if that's what you mean. But I have my sources, sources who came to me as a matter of fact. May I continue?"
Kennicott nodded nervously.