Business two cents

I've been writing about Sandpoint's longtime business owners this week. It's the third segment we've done for Sandpoint Magazine. In this summer's upcoming edition, we've moved up to those who've kept their operations going since the '70s. The first article last year took us on a journey to the '20s through the '40s with Niemans, Taylor Parker (formerly Sandpoint Motors), Selkirk Press and the Sandpoint News Bulletin and Harolds Super Foods.

The first three are still going strong, while all signs of Harolds will disappear in the next few months to make way for the new Panhandle State Bank business complex. When I drove by the Cinema 4-West yesterday, movie titles had been replaced by a thanks to customers for their patronage over the years. The times they are a changin' for local business.

We had the local business guru out here at the house the other day. His name is Mark Williams, and he heads the Bonner County Economic Development Corp. You can see him on their website at (http://www.bonnercountyedc.com/) He's got a pretty impressive resume, having served as CEO to two software companies in the Silicon Valley and then retiring to Sandpoint.

Mark has worked over the past few years to attract new businesses to this area, and since its beginning, the BCEDC has succeeded in luring 17 new companies to Bonner County. Internet business, which offers flexibility in relocation, has played a key role in this success as has our local tradition of friendliness and courteous service. I was glad to see the latter when Mark provided me the major reasons for his staff's success.

It's nice to know that what we've seen throughout all our lives here in Sandpoint has continued to impress folks from out of town. Some of those early business owners probably had no idea they were starting a good thing with their genuine caring for the customer when they opened their doors so long ago. I can't help but reflect on some of the entrepreneurial stars of my own past here in Sandpoint.

How about Ole Jennestad who had the clothing store on First Avenue? His daughter Edith once told me that Ole used to go out to the early-day logging camps, either by horse or logging train, to measure all the men for their custom-tailored suits. Back in those days, everyone wore suits---not slacks and sport coats. Ole required no money down and sent the orders into E.D. Price. When the suits arrived, every man would come and pick up his suit and pay for it.

"He didn't have a dollar from any of them," Edith said. "It was all on trust. Most of them paid about $38 for a suit, which, in those days, was pretty expensive."

Our own Tibbs family was most familiar with the business workings of John and Margaret Bradetich. They started out with the Boyer Store on the corner of Boyer and Larch. I think my mother went there at least once a day to replenish the continually diminishing supply of Wonder Bread at our house. When she had three kids who could gobble up to a dozen slices in one bread-drawer pilfering, she probably kept Wonder Bread stocks in the blue chips.

All the Bradetiches worked in the store, including their three older daughters. And, when someone from the Brown family came in one day and walked off with a package of Blackjack chewing gum without paying, a telephone conversation helped solve the problem. The gum and the kid went back to the store. The kid returned the gum and apologized. That was that. The Bradetiches built their little corner store into a bigger one over on Fifth Avenue where Super Drug (one of my current store stories) is now. They later established a discount warehouse where the Co Op is now located.

As I continue to reflect, I'm wondering if the bankers are the same as what I've experienced over the years. I'm sad to see that Big Bill Dowling has retired from Panhandle State Bank because he took care of my financial needs for years, even back in his days with Idaho First National Bank (anyone ever heard of that?).

One time I forgot to deposit my paycheck, but I did not forget to pay my bills. When those familiar envelopes, bearing overdraft statements, started coming in the mail, I waited until my heart quit thumping and called Bill.

"Tell ya what," he said. "Bring me that paycheck, and we'll cash it. I'll cover the fees for what you've received so far, and you can cover any others that show up." My health improved considerably after that call, and I felt like I now had a big, lovable guardian angel who cared.

A few years later when I needed to borrow nearly $14,000 to publish my second book, and I'd just resigned from my teaching job, Bill once again simply listened to my begging plea and then asked one question.

"Is that big guy you're married to still working?" When I said 'yes,' he pulled out the papers for my loan and we both signed on the dotted line."

Doing business with Karen Applegate at Kincaid Jewelers was similar. When Willie bought an engagement ring for Debbie, Karen said, "I don't care if you pay me five dollars a month. If you pay me something, that will be fine." I never had to worry about wedding gifts when Karen was running her store. I'd call up, give her a price range. She'd pick out a gift and see that it was wrapped beautifully and sometimes even delivered to the wedding. She'd learned well from Ray Kincaid and Art Ruyle who preceded her.

These personal stories reflect just the tip of the iceberg in the vast and wonderful lore that could be shared about the legends in Sandpoint's business history. Our folks, who started out from scratch and worked long hours to keep the local economy going since the town's beginnings, have established something that cannot be measured in dollars and cents.

Their constant efforts of showing empathy and going the extra mile for their customers have set an enviable model for others to follow. I hope that, as we see Mark Williams and his staff entice more and more businesses to relocate in Sandpoint, the traditions that attracted them here will continue on their watch.

If so, the dollars and cents will take care of themselves.