I am around 12 years old, sitting in my father’s apartment. It is late at night, but like Scherezade, he is keeping me awake with stories. They are not stories of princesses or witches. They are stories about his business. In spite of that, they are magic to me.
John Bliss
I am 22 and my father is offering me a job at his public relations firm. I don’t want to take it. I have plans to live out the graduate fantasy of backpacking in Europe. He firmly tells me that he will not hold the job open for me.
I am 23, standing awkwardly in a nursing home with my father and grandfather. Though his father doesn’t seem to understand, my father tells him that I am now in PR. Just like the two of them.
I am 24 and furious because my father is pulling me off my favorite account to make room for another client that is struggling. He reminds me that my job is to serve the company.
I am 27 and stewing at a subway stop. I believe that my father isn’t recognizing my contributions versus another employee. He never wavers in his approach towards either of us.
I am 28, extremely concerned that our client has called for an unexpected meeting. Perhaps they intend to terminate their relationship with our firm? My father listens patiently to my doomsday scenarios as we walk to the hotel. We knock on the door, which swings open to reveal a surprise. Instead of my client, my future husband is on bended knee with an engagement ring. My father gives me a mischievous smile and walks away.
I am 29, quaking in my boots in an office lobby, frightened about running a major two day client meeting. He quietly repeats one of his favorite pieces of advice: “grace before pressure.” I take a deep breath.
I am 31, in the middle of my first maternity leave. My father calls to ask if I will take on an extremely tough client personality when I return. He tells me I may the only one who can fix the situation. (I couldn’t, as it turns out)
I am 32, sitting in a management team meeting while our company struggles to set course during the dot com bust. We’re not sure how hard we’ll be hit financially. My father passionately advocates that our only and best choice is to continue over-servicing our critical clients.
I am 34, sitting in a restaurant to say goodbye to a dear colleague who is moving on to a new job. My father plays host, making a toast that knits us together and honors our friend’s accomplishments.
I am 38, writing a to-do list when my father strides through my office door with a huge grin on his face. A former client has reappeared many years later, with the belief that my father and I can help his new firm.
I am 39, standing in our New York office as we tell our employees that we will not lay off anyone, despite the recession. My father reassures the staff that people are the company’s most important asset.
I am 40, giving a speech about social media measurement. My father sits in the audience, silently supporting. Later, we discuss how we can respond to the new business leads.
I am 41, sitting in the Princeton club with my father discussing his semi-retirement on April 1. Despite confidence in my own leadership, I feel bereft. After a few thoughtful reminders from him about what we’ve achieved together, I feel invigorated about my own future.
I am at my father’s retirement party. As I look around the room, it’s filled with people who have also benefited from his lessons…and his stories. I feel very proud. Proud of the wonderful company he built, proud of the clients he transformed and, most importantly to him, proud of the exceptional people that he hired and taught how to fly.
As I fast forward to when I’m 42…or 56…or 84, I see the professional he’s helped me (and so many others) to become. I’ll be deeply grateful for that for the rest of my career.
But, in the end, what’s always mattered most to me is getting to have John Bliss as my Dad.
To reach Elizabeth:
Phone: 212.840.0017
Email: elizabeth@blisspr.com
Twitter: @elizabethsosnow
LinkedIn: Elizabeth Sosnow
04/07/2010 at 12:31 PM Permalink
As if I didn’t have enough reasons to admire you and your work…what a touching insight, Elizabeth. Bliss PR has been on my mind a lot lately — learning more about your firm has been on my to-do list, and this post tells me all I need to know.
Do me a favor and tell your father “Attaboy” and “Thank you” from a fella learning to follow his example. Good luck to you both as you dream forward!
04/07/2010 at 12:32 PM Permalink
@Jaybaer pointed this post to me. I am always impressed when someone writes about their relationship with their father. Especially when it concerns business. It seems you have had a similar relationship with your father as I have with mine. You might find this story inspirational too:
http://www.davidevansportfolio.com/forge/why-employees-still-matter.html
04/07/2010 at 12:35 PM Permalink
Elizabeth,
I enjoyed your article very much. As a father to 3 daughters and 2 step-daughters, it hits home. I’m sure this will be the most cherished and rewarding part of his retirement celebration.
04/07/2010 at 12:49 PM Permalink
Elizabeth, a great post honoring a great man. Very well done.
Bill
04/07/2010 at 1:16 PM Permalink
As a PR professional, I started at an agency that was family-based, with a long yielding partner group that had been together decades, through the good and the bad. They over-serviced through recessions, succeeded through the dot.com bust. I got my first job there when others were getting laid off. Today, I think of their lessons often as I’m sure your father’s employees will throughout their careers. Great, insightful and personal post Elizabeth.
04/07/2010 at 1:19 PM Permalink
He was being selfish.
He wanted to be able to turn the firm over to someone that he wouldn’t have to worry about, so he could enjoy every moment of his retirement.
He succeeded, because you are who you are.
Grandpa John, keep those boys in line!
04/07/2010 at 1:23 PM Permalink
Scott, I truly appreciate those kind words from someone who regularly inspires me. I’m so grateful that the social media world allowed me the chance to meet you and folks like you. I really hope that 2010 allows us the chance to connect in person.
04/07/2010 at 1:33 PM Permalink
Ike, thank you so much. My Dad may be my favorite mentor, but you are high on my list of people that teach me every day. I’m very grateful for that.
04/07/2010 at 1:37 PM Permalink
Elizabeth: A wonderfully touching post. Thank you for sharing so much. I’m writing with a lump in my throat and wet eyes. I, too, had a very similar relationship with my dad. He’s passed away now, almost seven years. We worked together for about nine years in PR and marketing and had a very cool simpatico like you and your father. I think of him often as I witness the changes in how we do business, wondering “what would daddy do?”. Your post is a tribute to the man and the daughter he raised. Cherish the time you have with him. I miss my father very much.
Martine
04/07/2010 at 1:42 PM Permalink
Hi Nicole:
Strangely enough, I never think of our business as family-based since we have worked as a 4 person (my father, me and 2 other folks) management team for many years. So, I’ll continue to run the firm with my colleagues Meg and Abby. But it sounds like the lessons you and I learned were very similar. Over-servicing has been a touchstone for us, too. Few things are more more important than giving your clients more than they expect, right?
04/07/2010 at 1:43 PM Permalink
Thanks, Bill. It’s great to hear from one of my favorite Worldcom friends. My gut tells me that you run your business the same way John did.
04/07/2010 at 1:45 PM Permalink
Michael, that’s very kind of you. After watching you build your business so skillfully over the past few years, I’m even more impressed that you achieved it while parenting 5 daughters. Looks like I have even more to learn from you than I thought!
04/07/2010 at 1:54 PM Permalink
Martine:
There’s nothing quite like the gift of working with a parent, is there? I’m really grateful that you shared a bit of your Dad with me today. I know somewhere he’s smiling about you. Thank you letting me get to know him a bit.
04/07/2010 at 1:58 PM Permalink
David, I just read your post. It hits the nail on the head – employees are what makes all of this “profit stuff” work. I was struck by the picture you painted of his visits with employees…it seems like it’s the little things that matter most to folks in the end. It sounds like he gave you the gift of understanding that. Thank you for sharing with me.
04/07/2010 at 3:59 PM Permalink
Great story… My son, 19 yo, started with us almost a year ago. I hope he gets to have the same found memories and life lessons
04/07/2010 at 10:43 PM Permalink
Elizabeth: What a wonderful journey…and shared through such a well-crafted post. While on a different scale, my mother ran her business from our home when I was a kid. I will always be thankful for all I learned at a young age because of this. The answer was never “we can’t”; all six of her daughters learned early on the imperative value of “figuring it out.” Thanks for your touching reminder.
04/07/2010 at 11:38 PM Permalink
Elizabeth, this was a priceless post! I think so highly of you, but even more now! I love reading stories about family as mine is very important to me too! What a Blessing to be able to work with a family member who is so smart, wise and such a good businessperson and mentor. It’s apparent the apple has not fallen far from the tree! Thanks for sharing him with us!
04/08/2010 at 1:32 PM Permalink
One of the best posts of the year.
04/08/2010 at 6:31 PM Permalink
Thanks for sharing this Elizabeth. Though hearing business stories from my father throughout my youth and career I was never blessed with the opportunity of working with him. I regret that. Especially at age 54 when I am helping him in what looks to be Alzheimers.
Stay well and keep sharing – you’re making a difference in so many people’s lives by caring enough to give of your time in blogging a story like this.
04/09/2010 at 7:40 PM Permalink
Thank you so much, Kevin. Your comment hits home with me more than you could know, since my grandfather (my father’s father) actually died from Alzheimers. My thoughts are with you for what can be a rewarding but tough ride. Take care of yourself and him.
04/09/2010 at 7:42 PM Permalink
A significant compliment coming from a blogger I always learn from. Thanks, Mark.
04/09/2010 at 7:44 PM Permalink
You are so kind, Nancy. Now that I know you a bit, I’m fairly sure you have a whole raft of stories like this to share. Who has been your favorite mentor?
04/09/2010 at 7:49 PM Permalink
Pennie, you really painted a vivid picture of your Mom. It sounds like she was one of those super-moms who manage a business and a family with grace. Having 6 daughters understand how to figure it out is a tall order…how impressive to learn she succeeded. Thank you for sharing her with us!
04/09/2010 at 7:51 PM Permalink
Hi Norman:
You are starting out on a fantastic though wild ride. I hope both of you experience the joy that we have had. Keep me posted on how it goes…
04/21/2010 at 11:37 PM Permalink
Elizabeth: Subtly stunning post, in both message and the self-reflection it invoked. Thank you for sharing.
04/22/2010 at 11:01 PM Permalink
Thanks, Mike. Those are very kind words. I really appreciate it.
07/22/2010 at 8:59 AM Permalink
Hi Elizabeth – I just found this post now, but I had to comment. I loved hearing the stories and wisdom you learned from your dad over the years. Absolutely fantastic read and such a great story behind where you’ve reached today.
Sadly my dad passed away when I was 14, but the lessons he taught me I’ll never forget. As I’m sure you won’t either.
07/28/2010 at 4:24 PM Permalink
First, Ryan, I’m so sorry to hear that you lost your Dad so early. I’m sure he would be proud of the person that you’ve become.
I’m so glad you liked this post. The lessons from my Dad touch the choices I make on a daily basis. I feel very grateful for that – and it sounds like you are, too.