The Offer I Could Never Accept
When survival, & loyalty collided, I discovered what matters most...Issue # 159
ifOnlyi… understood that some opportunities cost more than they pay.
During one of the most challenging periods of my 3D card business, I suddenly faced a problem I never saw coming.
For months, I had been aggressively building our brand through magazine and newspaper advertising. Back covers, center spreads, full-page ads—I was everywhere. I almost made myself believe that if it was not in those spots, I would not advertise with their magazine. The strategy was working. Orders were growing, our name was becoming recognized, and I was finally gaining momentum in a highly competitive industry.
Then the publications began delivering the same message.
They no longer wanted to work directly with me.
Because my company was still relatively new, they claimed the advertising commitments had grown too large and that future placements would need to be handled through an established advertising agency with deeper financial resources and larger credit lines.
I was stunned.
After everything I had built, everything I had invested, and all the momentum we had created, I suddenly found myself wondering if the entire machine was about to grind to a halt.
Panic set in.
What was I supposed to do now?
One advantage I had was receiving 15-20% discounts on many, if not all, of my advertising placements. Every dollar mattered. Working alongside me was an incredibly talented man named Jim, a small shareholder in the company and someone I deeply respected.
Jim held a full-time position with one of the nation’s leading advertising firms, so his time was limited. Yet whenever I needed him, he always came through.
Looking back, I probably pushed him harder than I should have.
I wanted every advertisement to be different. Every week, every month, every publication had to tell a slightly different story. I believed consistency didn’t mean repetition—it meant finding fresh ways to reinforce the same message.
Jim never let me down.
Together, we created campaigns that stood out from the crowd. The advertisements attracted attention throughout the industry and certainly caught the eyes of our competitors. That was never my objective. My goal was simple: build our brand as quickly and effectively as possible.
And it was working.
Now I had a new challenge.
If the publishers insisted on working through an advertising agency, then I needed to find one.
I researched some of the largest and most respected agencies in the country and began scheduling appointments. This was too important to handle over the phone. I wanted face-to-face meetings.
And my search eventually led me through the doors of some of the biggest agencies in America...
Chiat/Day
Saatchi & Saatchi
Foote, Cone & Belding
Goodby, Silverstein & Partners
Ogilvy & Mather
Young & Rubicam
J. Walter Thompson
BBDO
DDB Needham
Leo Burnett
Soon, my calendar was filled.
One after another, I sat down with some of the biggest names in advertising.
I carried with me a complete package: printed advertisements, future campaign concepts, production artwork, placement schedules, and copies of advertising commitments already secured with magazines and newspapers across the country.
Most meetings involved four to eight people gathered around conference tables. Senior executives attended. Creative directors attended. Marketing teams attended.
After listening to my presentation, many of them asked the same question.
“How did you do all of this?”
I had no degree in advertising.
No formal training in marketing.
No agency background.
Yet somehow I had built a national advertising program with the help of one talented artist and a lot of determination.
Then the next question would come.
“If you’ve already created the campaigns, negotiated the placements, secured the contracts, and built the relationships, why exactly do you need us?”
The answer was frustratingly simple.
I didn’t.
At least not from a creative standpoint.
The publishers required an agency intermediary because my young company didn’t have the financial history or credit capacity they wanted.
That was it.
They wanted power more than my books offered. Two people creating a National vision is unheard of in this industry. Why?
The agencies respected what I had accomplished. Several genuinely wanted to help. The problem was that they were structured to handle entire accounts.
They wanted to create the concepts.
Design the artwork.
Develop the branding.
Control the media buying.
Manage the marketing strategy.
In short, they wanted to do everything I had already done.
Meeting after meeting ended the same way.
Everyone was professional.
Everyone was complimentary.
Everyone was interested.
Yet no one could find a practical way to fit into a process that was already functioning.
And so I walked away empty-handed.
Weeks passed.
Countless & aggressive hours were invested by everyone involved trying to find common ground. Despite the outcome, it was an incredible experience. I was sitting across the table from some of the brightest minds in the advertising industry, and for that opportunity alone I was grateful.
Then something unexpected happened.
During one of the presentations, a senior executive leaned back in his chair after listening to my story.
Instead of discussing advertising, he began discussing me.
Drawing on his experience in the gift and toy industry, he told me he believed my skills would be valuable elsewhere.
Then he made me an offer.
Not an advertising contract.
A job.
A very lucrative job.
He wanted me to join the company as a Senior Creative Executive responsible for a major account.
For a moment, I was speechless.
Then he told me the name of the account.
My stomach turned……………………………………………
The company was my father’s biggest competitor.
For years, they had copied so many of Dad’s designs. They routinely mandated that their sales force purchase new products from my parents’ company and send them directly to their design teams.
Lawsuits followed.
Time after time, my father’s company prevailed in court.
Yet the copying continued.
In one particularly memorable case, my father pursued them aggressively enough to have their warehouses locked until outstanding judgments were paid.
The money arrived quickly.
The lesson, unfortunately, did not.
They simply returned to their old habits.
Now I find myself sitting in a boardroom, being offered a remarkable opportunity by people I respect.
The compensation package was extraordinary:
Two hundred thousand dollars a year, plus bonuses. Enough to completely change my circumstances,
In the early 1990s, that was serious money, and truthfully, I needed it.
The legal battles surrounding my own business had placed enormous pressure on me. Financially, emotionally, and professionally, and soon I would learn that my health as well as life would have become much easier if I had accepted.
But there was one problem.
I couldn’t imagine facing my father afterward.
I couldn’t look him in the eye and tell him I had accepted a position helping the company that had spent years causing him grief.
As attractive as the offer was, something inside me wouldn’t allow it.
As I prepared to leave, they encouraged me to think it over.
And believe me, I did.
Had my legal battles ended earlier, perhaps my circumstances would have been different, but they were still ongoing full blast.
Perhaps the decision would have been easier.
Or perhaps not.
Deep down, I already knew the answer.
I loved and respected my Dad too much to do that to him.
Maybe I had too big a heart.
Maybe I was foolish.
Maybe I walked away from an opportunity many people would have embraced without hesitation.
But some decisions aren’t made with your head. But maybe,
They’re made with your heart.
Years earlier, I had turned down another incredible opportunity from Mattel’s CEO, Jill Barad.
This felt remarkably similar.
Money can solve many problems.
But it cannot buy peace of mind.
And it certainly cannot replace loyalty to the people who helped shape your life.
Reflection:
Sometimes life tests us in ways we never expect.
The decision wasn’t about money. It wasn’t about career advancement. It wasn’t even about business.
It was about looking in the mirror the next morning and being able to live with the person staring back.
The salary would have changed my bank account. The bonuses would have changed my lifestyle.
But accepting that offer would have changed something far more important—how I felt about myself and how I faced my father.
Looking back, I never regretted walking away.
Some victories are measured in dollars.
Others are measured in loyalty.
I know which one mattered most to me.
Could you put a price on loyalty, or are some things simply not for sale?
Some opportunities make you rich. Others make you choose who you want to be.
If this story touched your heart, I’d be grateful if you shared it with someone facing a similar dilemma.
Your memoir is full of valuable life lessons. I can relate to the hard decision between money and freedom. I am glad you had the awareness of what mattered most for your well-being and life satisfaction. Thank you for another great episode of your memoirs, which was a delightful read for me.
Classic Ollie. I love it. This one is a little different, but it still follows the pattern of you getting into a sticky thicket with so much at stake that it boggles the mind. Then you think and think about it, and after stewing, you have your decision. And I always agree with you! You're a good person, Ollie, and through some messy growing-up years, you absolutely emerged as an ethical person who knows right from wrong. I admire your decision-making and, as always, I'm sitting here thinking... Well, what's next? Then what happened? Can't wait to read the next "chapter"!