A Tale of Two Customers

"The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."

Lao Tzu

When in college, the idea occurred to me that, just for fun, I would like to make stained glass windows. Ok, the truth is there was a girl I was interested in who had absolutely no interest in me. This seems like a recurring theme… Anyway, I had been thinking about learning to make stained glass windows, and then heard she was making them. I thought, “If she can do it, so can I.” Ah… the height of maturity had arrived. So, I took the classes, and they changed the course of my life.

First off, it surprised me that I loved making stained glass, and I was good at it, too. Having made my first couple windows, my mom’s friend asked me if I could make her a window, saying she would pay me for it. The next thing you knew, I had a business that was not my intention to start. I worked at it all through college and for a while afterwards.

Through this process, I became good friends with Cheri and Rick, who owned Dragonfly Stained Glass, where Cheri had taught me to make windows. While there picking glass for my next project, a woman came in with a window that looked like it had been thrown off a roof. She asked Cheri if she could fix it, to which Cheri apologetically replied that they did not do repairs; they only taught classes and sold supplies.

The woman asked her if she knew anyone who could fix it, and Cheri again said no. I said, “I can.” They both looked at me and asked, “You can?” I said yes, the customer hired me on the spot, and Cheri said she would send me all their repairs. So, in two seconds, I had been hired and had an offer of an ongoing supply of customers.

I went to all the stained glass and antique shops in town to tell them about my new venture in repairing stained glass windows. Before long, I had a roaring business that fit in nicely between my classes and study.

Cheri’s husband, Rick, became one of my closest friends, and we ended up living on the same street. For the twenty years before our latest move, we went walking together on Saturday mornings before anyone else was up.

Back to business; most times, the people who called me had either a broken craft-faire trinket or a broken antique window that had been in their garage forever. Having received their repair, they were so pleased to recover the item that meant something to them, they would often ask me to make them another window. The reason was simple: I charged a fair price and did the work well and on time, so I got the next job and was never in competition.

One day, I met Mrs. K, and as usual, I brought along my portfolio of windows and some catalogs of spectacular antiques. Mrs. K asked me to recreate a large panel from a three-window ceiling that had been made by Louis Comfort Tiffany, the Michelangelo of stained glass. I said yes to the most ambitious window I had ever made, and it is pictured above. After that, she wanted me to make another window and then another.

The third window was a problem. Mrs. K chose the glass from my box of samples, and though I didn’t like what she picked, I made the window anyway. I installed it when she was on an errand, and when she returned, she said she hated it. But rather than throw both me and the window out, she graciously paid me for it and even gave it back to me, saying, “Let’s build it again, but this time, I’ll let you choose the glass.” I did, and that window was truly exquisite, my favorite of all the windows I made.

Another customer, Dr. No — or at least that’s what Dave, my window framer, and I called her — was a psychiatrist who could be a bit testy. She had two large antique windows, with thirty or more different colors in them, and wanted me to make four more exactly like them and install all six in her living room. That was quite a task, but when done, you couldn’t tell one window from the other, and it worked beautifully.

We had a falling out at the end of the job when she demanded I give her any leftover glass. No one had ever asked me that, and it seemed like asking a painter for the leftover paint. Eventually, I gave her the glass, but she was so unfriendly about it that that was my last job with her.

Years went by, and I made my transition to the insurance business. One day, my parents decided to have a garage sale, so I brought Mrs. K’s rejected window. An hour or two later, I looked down the driveway and, lo and behold, up walked Dr. No.

We were surprised to see each other. She looked around for a while and then homed in on Mrs. K’s window, deciding she wanted it.

Dr. No bought the window and asked me what I was doing now. I said I was in the insurance business, to which she replied, somewhat hotly, “Well, I would never buy insurance from you!” to which I replied, “And I would never come to you as a patient!”

Having indulged our little tantrums, we bid each other adieu. After the fact, it seemed ironic that I had only one customer I didn’t like in all the time I spent making stained glass, and she ended up buying the one window I didn’t like either.

But, more importantly, so many benefits came out of all my experience. I discovered my creativity, I met a lifelong friend, Rick, and his wonderful wife, Cheri, and I found out that I liked being an entrepreneur, which has led me to enjoy what I do now more than any work I have ever done.

So, here’s my advice if you’re just starting out or in transition: If you stay in motion, nearly everything works out for the best. Don’t give up when it’s not going well. Just keep taking that next step forward, and you will find your way.

-Hank

"A Tale of Two Customers," from The Saturday Morning Post at hankfrazee.com

P.S.: To see more of my stained glass, click here .