Just One Good Idea: What Wasn't Written

Some stories don’t feel important at first.They’re simple. Almost easy to pass by.And then… something about them stays.Longer than it should.This was one of those.A reader told me about her grandmother—and one small, almost unexpected thing she used to say.She wanted to come back as a giraffe.Not in a joking way.Not as a passing comment.It was something she believed.Something she said more than once.And for reasons that are hard to explain…it meant something.We talked about it.What she remembered.What stayed with her.And how certain people leave behind things that don’t quite make sense—but feel like they do.I recorded that conversation.It’s about 17 minutes.And somewhere inside it…is a reminder that the stories we carry aren’t always the obvious ones.Sometimes it’s a single line.A quiet belief.A detail that shouldn’t matter—but does.I’ve been thinking about it ever since.Not just what she said…but why certain things stay with us the way they do.Why one small detail can outlast everything else.And how, sometimes…that’s the part of a person that never really leaves.Warmly,SandraP.S. Watching someone tell their own story like that… it’s a reminder that these things don’t just disappear.They stay with us until we’re ready to face them.That’s exactly what led me to write The Search for Valentina Getsch. It’s the heartbreaking story of my father’s 80-year search to find his mother. It’s the heart warming story of being reunited with a brother he never knew he had. And it’s the soul crushing story of the one final gift she left him that proved, after all those years of not knowing, that she never stopped loving him. Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

PODCAST HIGHLIGHTS* A dyslexic boy from rural Sweden builds a mini-empire from a bicycle basket.* Ingvar Kamprad launches IKEA at just 17 using seed money from his father.* Guilds and suppliers blacklist him — twice.* A broken table leg sparks the invention of flat-pack furniture.* IKEA becomes a global movement built around accessibility, simplicity, and design democracy.* The business grows from a chicken-coop operation to a $50-billion worldwide empire.* The real takeaway: rejection is often disguised innovation.Show NotesIn today’s episode of Just One Good Idea: Behind the Story, we take you to Småland, Sweden — a place where frugality is a virtue and ingenuity is a way of life. It’s here we meet Ingvar Kamprad, a dyslexic farm boy whose early hustles laid the foundation for IKEA.You’ll hear how Kamprad faced two devastating industry boycotts, how he rebuilt his supply chain from scratch, and how a tiny accident — a broken table leg — inspired one of the most transformative ideas in retail history.We’ll explore the early influences that shaped him, the psychology behind flat-pack innovation, and the bold choices that fueled IKEA’s global rise. This story is more than entrepreneurship — it’s a masterclass in turning obstacles into assets.In this episode, you’ll learn:* Why constraints can be the birthplace of creativity* How one accidental problem can spark a world-changing idea* The mindset that helps founders survive industry pushback* The secret behind IKEA’s global staying power* And how ordinary beginnings can grow into extraordinary empiresTAKEAWAYS 1. Obstacles aren’t dead ends — they’re data points.Ingvar used rejection as direction. Every “no” pointed him toward a smarter “yes.”2. Big ideas often hide inside small frustrations.A broken table leg wasn’t a disaster — it was innovation knocking.3. Simplicity scales.Flat packs weren’t glamorous, but they were brilliant. Sometimes the idea that feels too simple… is the one people have been waiting for.4. Great businesses don’t start with perfection.They start with curiosity, grit, and a willingness to solve one small problem exceptionally well.5. You don’t need permission to create something extraordinary.Ingvar didn’t wait for approval. He built the future with the tools he had.P.S. Ingvar Kamprad built an empire because he never overlooked the small, scrappy opportunities right in front of him — the matchboxes, the pencils, the picture frames he made during wartime blackouts. Those little DIY creations kept his business alive long enough for the big breakthrough to arrive.If you’re looking for your own quick, do-it-yourself income spark, there’s a simple modern tool that can help: Write, Publish & Sell a PDF in a Single Day. It walks you through how to package what you know into a digital product — fast. No waiting. No perfection needed.Just one small idea… one simple product… and the courage to start. You can get all the details here. Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Episode SummaryBefore Airbnb became a global hospitality giant, it was just two young dreamers fighting off fear, overdue rent, and a desperate belief in their idea. This episode reveals the humble, human origin — and the tiny act of courage that sparked a worldwide movement.What You’ll Hear* The emotional night Airbnb almost died* How struggle, scarcity, and faith shaped a billion-dollar idea* Why “small” beginnings aren’t small at all* The surprising role air mattresses and breakfast cereal played* The lesson founders — and creators — forget mostKey Quotes“Breakthroughs often hide behind one final attempt.”“Belief doesn’t roar — it whispers.”“Sometimes the world changes because two people didn’t give up on a fragile idea.”TakeawaySuccess rarely starts with certainty — it starts with courage in the middle of doubt. Your breakthrough may not require more confidence… just one more quiet step forward. Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Episode Description:They say the greatest inventions come from genius.But sometimes, they come from love.In 1920, a young man named Earle Dickson was working as a cotton buyer for a small but ambitious company called Johnson & Johnson.At home, his spirited wife Josephine kept accidentally burning and cutting herself in the kitchen.Every time, Earle would wrap her wounds with gauze and medical tape — only to watch the makeshift bandages fall off minutes later.One night, frustration gave way to inspiration. He laid a strip of gauze on a piece of adhesive tape, covered it with crinoline to keep it clean, and created something that didn’t exist before: a self-adhesive, ready-to-use bandage.He called it Band-Aid.What started as one husband’s attempt to ease his wife’s pain became a global phenomenon — a symbol of care, comfort, and healing used by billions.But the story didn’t end there.When World War II erupted, Johnson & Johnson began sending millions of Band-Aids to soldiers on the front lines.Suddenly, this small domestic fix became a battlefield necessity — a quiet hero of its own.By the time Earle Dickson passed away in 1961, Band-Aid had become more than a product.It was a household name, a childhood memory, and a gentle reminder that healing — in every sense — begins with care.In this episode of Just One Good Idea: Behind the Story, we explore how one man’s act of tenderness reshaped modern medicine, how persistence turned a flop into a revolution, and how empathy can still be the most powerful force in innovation.Because sometimes the greatest ideas don’t come from chasing success…They come from paying attention to the pain right in front of you.What You’ll Learn:* 💡 The simple domestic accident that sparked one of the most successful medical products in history.* ❤️ How empathy — not ambition — gave birth to an idea that changed everyday healthcare.* 🩹 Why Band-Aid’s early sales failed, and the clever demonstration that saved it.* ⚔️ The wartime moment that transformed it from household item to global essential.* 🕊️ How one man’s act of love continues to teach us about innovation, legacy, and healing.Inspirational Takeaway:The Band-Aid was never about business — it was about care.A reminder that world-changing ideas often begin as quiet promises: “I’ll take care of you.”And sometimes, that’s all it takes to start a revolution. Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Episode Summary:This episode traces the incredible journey of Henry J. Heinz, the man who turned a mother’s secret recipe for horseradish into a global food empire. We explore his immigrant beginnings in Pittsburgh, his crushing first business bankruptcy, his brilliant pivot to ketchup, and the marketing genius that gave us the “57 Varieties” slogan. We also look at how his obsession with transparency and quality revolutionized food safety in America. Henry Heinz’s story is the ultimate testament to turning total failure into enduring folklore.Highlights (Key Moments)* The Immigrant Garden Roots: Henry Heinz’s parents, Johann and Anna, immigrated from Germany to Pittsburgh. Henry began his career at age six, selling his mother’s excess produce from a wheelbarrow. By age 16, he had a full-fledged produce business.* The First Business and Transparency: Henry’s first company, Heinz Noble & Company, sold bottled horseradish using Anna’s recipe. In a revolutionary move, he used clear glass bottles to show the purity of his product, unlike competitors who used brown bottles to hide impurities. Transparency became one of the company’s selling points.* Horseradish Heartbreak: The company went bankrupt in 1875 following the economic crash of 1873, also known as The Panic of 1873. Henry was left with $12,000 in debt.* The Critical Pivot to Ketchup: Undeterred, Henry founded a new company in 1876. He abandoned horseradish due to its limited demand and high costs, making a strategic pivot to bottling and selling ketchup (catsup) made from abundant and cheap Pennsylvania tomatoes.* Marketing Genius: 57 Varieties: In 1896, Henry created the famous “57 Varieties” slogan after seeing an ad for “21 styles” of shoes on a New York elevated train. He chose the numbers 5 and 7 because he thought 5 was his lucky number, and 7 was his wife Sarah’s.* Advocating for Pure Food: Heinz pioneered sanitary factories with white-tiled walls and employee hygiene standards. He helped pass the 1906 Pure Food and Drug Act, banning adulterants like formaldehyde in ketchup, positioning himself as the hero of clean eating.Key Takeaways* Failure is a Starting Point: Henry’s initial bankruptcy didn’t stop him; it provided the tough lessons needed for his next venture. With capital from his mother and faith in himself, he started over and fully paid off all his creditors by 1879.* The Power of Transparency: Using clear bottles to showcase quality was more than a marketing tactic; it built trust. In business, demonstrating integrity can be your greatest selling point.* Elevate the Common: Henry did not invent a new product; he took a common thing—ketchup—and produced it with “relentless excellence”. His mantra was: “To do a common thing uncommonly well brings success”.* The Strategic Pivot: When his core product (horseradish) became unprofitable, Henry made a bold pivot to a product with better supply and margin (tomatoes/ketchup). Knowing when to let go of an idea is crucial for long-term success.Closing ThoughtsHenry Heinz’s legacy is a reminder that innovation isn’t always about radical invention—it’s the quiet revolution of trust, transparency, and tenacity. Every great empire starts with a small seed of an idea, watered by hard work and nurtured by an unyielding spirit. Don’t underestimate the power of starting small, failing big, and having the courage to make the pivot. Your own uncompromised soul infused into the ordinary can turn roots into legacies. Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Episode Description:Some ideas fail a thousand times before they finally fit.This is the untold story of the zipper — a small invention that began as a clumsy, unreliable fastener and became one of the most transformative innovations in history.In this episode, Sandra Franks unzips the fascinating journey of lawyer Lewis Walker and engineer Otto Fredrik Gideon Sundbäck, two men who refused to give up on a broken idea. What started as rejection turned into a global revolution that reshaped fashion, function, and everyday life.You’ll learn:* Why persistence often matters more than genius.* How rejection can actually refine, not ruin, a good idea.* The surprising link between failure, faith, and innovation.Listen and be reminded: sometimes the smallest ideas — the ones everyone else doubts — are the ones that quietly hold the world together.✨ Episode Highlights* 1893: The “C-Curity Fastener” fails at the World’s Fair — mocked, dismissed, and forgotten.* 1905–1913: Lawyer Lewis Walker invests his belief (and fortune) into a failing idea.* 1913: Swedish engineer Otto Sundbäck redesigns it into the world’s first “Hookless Fastener.”* 1917: The U.S. Navy adopts it for uniforms — proving reliability under pressure.* 1923: B.F. Goodrich renames it the “Zipper”… and fashion history changes forever.Inspirational TakeawayThe zipper’s story reminds us that even the smallest ideas can hold everything together — if someone believes long enough to make them work.Amazing Quotes“Maybe your idea isn’t broken — maybe it’s just not zipped all the way up yet.” — Sandra Franks, Just One Good Idea Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Episode Description:Sometimes, the greatest deliveries don’t arrive in boxes — they arrive in moments of pure grit.In this episode of Just One Good Idea: Behind the Story, Sandra Franks uncovers the incredible journey of Jim Casey, the orphaned boy who borrowed $100, bought one bicycle, and built what would become United Parcel Service (UPS) — one of the most trusted companies in the world.You’ll hear how hardship shaped his discipline, how friendship fueled innovation, and how his belief in reliability turned into a global movement of service.It’s a story about more than business.It’s about persistence, promise, and the kind of delivery that never misses its destination — the human spirit.📝 SHOW NOTESFrom the streets of Seattle to a basement below a saloon, Jim Casey’s dream began small — one bicycle, one friend, one idea. Together with Claude Ryan, he transformed hardship into opportunity and a messenger service into a global enterprise.But beneath the familiar brown trucks and tidy uniforms lies a deeper story — one about perseverance, loyalty, and the belief that every delivery carries a promise.Host Sandra Franks takes you inside the story behind UPS, revealing how Casey’s humble beginnings and unbreakable spirit created a company that’s still driven by one core value: service above all.What You’ll Learn* How a 12-year-old messenger boy learned the business of trust.* The $100 idea that became a $90 billion company.* How World War I’s shortages forced innovation that shaped modern logistics.* Why reliability — not reinvention — became UPS’s secret weapon.* The mindset that turned tragedy into triumph.Inspirational Takeaways* Great empires are built on reliability, not resources.* Success often begins in scarcity — when you’re forced to innovate.* Your word is your most valuable package — deliver it well.* When you serve others first, your own success always finds its way home.Closing ReflectionIn a noisy, impatient world, Jim Casey’s story reminds us that consistency still matters — that showing up, keeping promises, and honoring your word is the foundation of every enduring success.Editor’s NoteThe first chapter of my father’s memoir is published. You can read it by clicking on the link below. Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Episode Description:In this episode of Just One Good Idea: Behind the Story, we uncover the surprising origins of Cup Noodles. From Taiwan to Japan, from bankruptcy to global success, this is the story of Momofuku Ando — the man who turned hunger into one of the most successful food products in history.What You’ll Learn:* Why famous names like Jeremy Renner, Russell Westbrook, and Jim Gaffigan survived on Cup Noodles before making it big* How a devastating business failure led Momofuku Ando to his breakthrough* The flash-frying “Eureka” moment that made instant ramen possible* How one trip to the U.S. inspired the invention of Cup Noodles* The lasting global legacy of a simple, affordable mealInspirational Takeaways:* Rock bottom can be the start of something extraordinary.* Failure isn’t the end — it’s often the ingredient for innovation.* Great ideas don’t need fancy labs or investors; sometimes all you need is persistence and a shed.* Food may fill stomachs, but ideas fueled by resilience feed generations.Editor’s Note:The stories I share here are about ideas, creativity, and courage.But this one… this one is about love — the kind that outlives time itself.I’ve been waiting a long time to share this. I published the first part of my father’s memoir — The Search for Valentina Getsch.It’s a true story of love lost and found — of a son separated from his mother for eighty years, and the search that finally brought them together again.If you’ve ever believed that love has its own perfect timing… this story is proof. You can read it by clicking on the link below. I’ll also begin emailing you each chapter as it is completed, so you can share this journey with me. . Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Episode Summary:In this episode of Just One Good Idea: Behind the Story, we uncover the surprising origins of Kleenex. Born as a World War I bandage material, repurposed as a secret menstrual pad, and finally rebranded as the world’s first disposable handkerchief—this is the story of how Kimberly-Clark turned one invention into multiple market-changing products.🔑 Episode Highlights* The Rag-Picker Economy: How Kimberly-Clark began in 1872 making paper from discarded rags.* Cellucotton Innovation: The wartime invention that changed medicine—and women’s hygiene—forever.* The Unexpected Customer Pivot: How letters from users doubled Kleenex sales in a single year.* Marketing Brilliance: The slogan that made Kleenex a household name: “The Handkerchief You Can Throw Away.”* Legacy & Lesson: Why listening to your customers can open entire new markets.📚 What You’ll Learn* Why Kimberly-Clark’s early willingness to pivot kept them ahead of industry shifts.* How wartime innovation can spark peacetime opportunities.* The power of listening to customer behavior—not just customer surveys.* How bold marketing overcame cultural taboos and created entirely new markets.* Why one good idea can keep evolving into many, if you stay curious.🌟 Inspirational Takeaways* Surplus isn’t waste—it’s potential. Kimberly-Clark turned leftover bandage material into a billion-dollar product line.* Your customers may already know your next big product. All you have to do is pay attention.* A single pivot can change everything. The moment they shifted Kleenex from a beauty product to a household essential, sales doubled overnight.* Courage beats comfort. Launching Kotex in 1920 was taboo-breaking—but it changed women’s lives and built a company’s future.Amazing Quotes by Amazing People“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.”- Winston Churchill Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Episode SummaryNetflix may feel like it’s always been there — your Friday-night fallback, your binge-watch enabler, your “just one more episode” guilty pleasure. But it started with something incredibly small: two guys, an envelope, and a single DVD sent through the mail.In this episode, we go behind the scenes of Netflix’s origin story — from a carpool brainstorming session between Marc Randolph and Reed Hastings … to a bold subscription model that killed late fees … to a streaming revolution that rewrote the rules of entertainment.It’s a story about persistence, experimentation, and daring to take a simple idea and run with it.What You’ll Learn in This Episode* How Marc Randolph went from running a tiny mail-order business to co-founding Netflix.* Why Reed Hastings’s background in software and math made him the perfect partner.* The lightbulb moment that proved mailing DVDs could actually work.* How the 1999 subscription model turned Netflix from an experiment into a rocket ship.* The lessons Netflix teaches us about starting small, experimenting relentlessly, and scaling smart.Highlights* “Netflix didn’t start as a streaming giant — it started with two guys, a carpool, and a single DVD in an envelope.”* “Marc Randolph wasn’t trying to change entertainment. He just wanted to fix what was broken about renting movies.”* “No late fees. No due dates. Unlimited rentals. That single idea changed everything.”* “Netflix wasn’t just about DVDs — it was about data. About understanding what people wanted before they even knew it themselves.”* “The biggest disruption often comes from a simple question: What if this could be better?”Inspirational TakeawayYour idea doesn’t have to be perfect — it just has to solve a real problem.Mail the DVD. Run the experiment. Learn from what happens next.Because sometimes the smallest tests lead to the biggest revolutions.If you loved this episode, share it with a fellow innovator or entrepreneur who needs a reminder that world-changing ideas can start small — even in the passenger seat of a car. Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Podcast DescriptionWhat do sandpaper, two-tone cars, and a stubborn banjo player have to do with one of the world’s most iconic office supplies?In this episode of Just One Good Idea: Behind the Story, we follow Richard Drew — a college dropout turned 3M engineer — who secretly defied orders to create a new kind of tape. What started as a side project became Scotch Tape … and more importantly, sparked a culture of innovation that still defines 3M today.This is the story of how sticking with one idea — literally — changed everything.✅ Episode NotesIn This Episode, You’ll Discover:* Why one man’s refusal to “just deliver sandpaper” gave us one of history’s most popular products* The behind-the-scenes battles Richard Drew faced — and why management told him to stop* How a single invention transformed 3M from a mining company into an innovation powerhouse* The bigger lesson Scotch Tape teaches us about persistence, rebellion, and following your curiosityPlus: What this means for your own projects — and why the problems that keep you up at night might be the exact ones you’re meant to solve.✅ Episode Highlights (Timestamps for Chapters)[03:15] The Problem That Started It AllRichard Drew walks into an auto body shop and sees workers struggling to mask two-tone paint jobs — and can’t stop thinking about it.[04:05] A Secret Side ProjectRichard returns to the lab, begins experimenting with adhesives … and ignores management’s orders to stop.[05:00] Two Years of Trial and ErrorLate nights, tiny orders, endless failures — and finally, the perfect combination of crepe-paper and adhesive.[04:130] Being Faithful Richard doesn’t give up on his idea. He’s faithful to the problem that somebody needs this solution.[04:41] Being Faithful Breakthrough MomentRichard brings the tape back to the auto shop — and sparks a new way of thinking inside 3M.[05:32] More Than Just TapeHow Scotch Tape became a symbol of innovation, resilience, and creative freedom.[6:30] What This Story Is Really AboutThe lesson for creators: why following your gut and sticking with the problem matters — even when the answer takes years to find.Amazing Quotes by Amazing People"Progress happens when someone refuses to accept 'no' as the final answer.”- Anonymous Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Show Notes: Just One Good Idea — Behind the Story Baking soda might seem ordinary — a little orange box in your fridge, your pantry, or your laundry room. But behind it is a story of grit, rivalry, and reconciliation.In this episode, I uncover the surprising origins of Arm & Hammer: how an orphan-turned-doctor and his ambitious brother-in-law transformed kitchen experiments into a billion-dollar brand.From a farmhouse kitchen to rival empires, and finally a family reunion that created one of America’s most iconic companies — this is the story behind the story of baking soda.What You’ll Learn in This Episode* How Dr. Austin Church, an orphan who became a Yale-trained doctor, left medicine to experiment with bread and stumbled upon baking soda.* Why John Dwight, a savvy entrepreneur, turned a kitchen hobby into a nationwide business.* The family feud that split their partnership into two competing brands: Cow Brand and Arm & Hammer.* How decades later, the families reunited — creating Church & Dwight Co., Inc., the billion-dollar corporation behind Arm & Hammer today.* The deeper meaning: how resilience, rivalry, and persistence can turn even the simplest idea into a legacy.Highlights* “Sometimes the biggest household names don’t come from boardrooms — they come from a doctor in his kitchen.”* “Austin Church’s story is proof that hardship doesn’t define you — persistence does.”* “John Dwight didn’t invent baking soda. He scaled it. He marketed it. He made it unforgettable.”* “Family rivalries can fracture businesses … but they can also create legacies.”* “Even the most ordinary product can hold an extraordinary story.”Inspirational TakeawayYour good idea doesn’t need to be flashy. It might look small, even ordinary. But with persistence, the right partners, and the courage to keep refining it — it can grow into something far bigger than you imagined.If you enjoyed this episode, share it with a friend who could use a reminder that small beginnings can lead to extraordinary outcomes. Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Episode DescriptionWhat does a French emperor have to do with the soup in your kitchen? A lot more than you think.In this episode of Just One Good Idea: Behind the Story, we uncover the fascinating chain of events that turned Napoleon’s quest to feed his army into a $9 billion global brand. You’ll meet the innkeeper’s son who changed food forever, the New Jersey merchant who seized an opportunity, and the chemist who solved a problem that made Campbell’s Soup a household name.This isn’t just the story of a can of soup—it’s a story of persistence, innovation, and one idea leading to the next.✅ Episode NotesIn This Episode, You’ll Discover:* Why Napoleon’s hunger for power sparked a food revolution* How Nicolas Appert’s “pickling experiments” became the foundation for modern canning* The unlikely partnership that launched Campbell’s in Bridgeton, New Jersey* How a young chemist condensed soup—and changed an industry* The surprising inspiration behind Campbell’s iconic red and white labelPlus: The lessons this story holds for anyone chasing their next big idea.✅ Episode Highlights (Timestamps for Chapters)[00:00] The Battlefield Problem That Sparked an IndustryNapoleon faces an unexpected enemy—hunger—and puts out a challenge that changes food forever.[02:45] Nicolas Appert: The Culinary Pioneer Who Beat the OddsHow an innkeeper’s son and chef invented a preservation method that laid the foundation for canning.[06:15] From Farm to Factory: The Birth of Campbell’sJoseph Campbell and Abraham Anderson combine fruit and tin to start a new business in New Jersey.[08:30] A Chemist, A Can, and a Big BreakthroughJohn Dorrance’s condensed soup innovation slashes costs and sends Campbell’s soaring.[10:15] The Red and White RevolutionA football game, a gold medal, and a label that became pop culture history.[12:00] What This Story Is Really AboutThe hidden lesson in soup—and how it applies to your big idea.Summary:In this episode, we learn that the $9 billion Campbell's brand was not created in a single moment of inspiration, but through a long chain of events that started with Napoleon's quest to feed his army. It was a story of persistence, with one idea leading to the next. From Nicolas Appert's "pickling experiments" to Joseph Campbell and Abraham Anderson's New Jersey business, to chemist John Dorrance's condensing innovation, each step was a building block in creating not only a global brand but one of the world’s most iconic soup brands. Your big idea might not be a sudden flash of genius, but a journey of small, incremental innovations that come together to create something magical. Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Episode Summary:A broken bottle. A frustrated entrepreneur. And a sweet idea that changed American kitchens forever. In this episode of Just One Good Idea: Behind the Story, discover how Edwin Perkins turned a shipping nightmare into Kool-Aid—and why this story is really about resilience, reinvention, and small pivots that make a big difference.Episode Chapters:* [00:00] The Broken Bottle That Sparked It All* [02:15] Growing Up in Nebraska: Perkins’ First Lessons in Business* [05:40] The Strange Quit-Smoking Kit That Made Him Rich* [09:10] Fruit Smack: The First Big Hit—and the Shipping Problem* [12:30] Inspiration from Jell-O: Turning Liquid into Powder* [15:00] The Great Depression Strategy That Saved Kool-Aid* [18:20] From Small-Town Business to Global Brand* [21:00] What This Story Is Really About: Adaptation* [22:30] Takeaways for Creators: Start Small, Pivot FastInspiration for Writers:Every writer knows the frustration of broken ideas—drafts that don’t work, concepts that fall apart in shipping from your mind to the page. Perkins’ story reminds us that those moments aren’t failure; they’re invitations to pivot. You don’t need a perfect first draft or a blockbuster idea to begin. Start with what you have. Adapt when it breaks. Because sometimes, the smallest shift—a new angle, a trimmed sentence, a tighter hook—can transform your story into something unforgettable.Amazing Quotes by Amazing People“It’s not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change.” – Charles Darwin Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Editor’s Note: Be sure to listen to the “the behind the story,” podcast, where I share a few more details including why I picked writing about this in the first place … mostly because it’s a story of human emotions starting with immigration and heartbreak to reinvention and little luck. The air was thick with the scent of unwashed bodies, damp stone, and desperation. It clung to the ragged wool of a tattered coat, to the mold growing in the corners, and to the very hope in a man's heart. A debtors' prison was not a place of iron bars and solitude, but of forced community. Whole families, from babbling infants to stooped grandmothers, were often confined together in a single, large cell—a grotesque parody of a home.Back in the 1800’s if you were in the midst of “financial woes,” and couldn’t pay your debts, then you most likely wound up in a debtor’s prison. To avoid prison, you could try to negotiate some kind of partial payment with your creditor, ask family and friends to help out, or do forced labor to pay it off.Or you could simply do what Johann Augustus Sutter did … flee to another country.Johann Augustus Sutter was born February 23, 1803, in Kandern, Baden a small village just north of Basel, Switzerland to Johann Jakob Sutter, who ran a paper mill, and his mother, Christina Wilhelmina Sutter, who was the daughter of a pastor.As a young boy, Johann helped his father out by doing chores at the paper mill. But when he turned 15, Johann attended a military academy in Neuchâtel, Switzerland. It’s said that he loved the romance and pageantry of the military, although he was never made an officer in the Swiss army.After leaving military school, Johann became a clerk in a draper's shop in the Swiss town of Aarburg. He soon met Anna Dübeld and moved to her hometown of Burgdorf. There he worked at several jobs, including as a grocery store clerk unloading deliveries and stocking shelves. On October 24, 1826, he and Anna were married; the next day, Anna gave birth to their first child. But that wouldn’t be their only child. In fact the couple had five children.Needing to support his wife and children, Anna's family provided the backing for Johann to open a dry goods firm in Burgdorf. But here’s the thing: Johann wasn’t good at business or managing money.And he soon found himself in debt. Actually he was about to face prison time. But rather than going to jail, he decided his best option was to run as far away as he could … like 3,911 miles away. In May of 1834, Johann boarded a steamship and set sail to America while leaving his wife and children in dire straits.According to historian Iris H. W. Engstrand, Anna Sutter remained virtually a charity case, waiting vainly for more than decade for her husband to rescue her from poverty and disgrace.But it never happened. That’s because Johann was busy building a new life in America … one that played a role in igniting the California Gold Rush of 1853. That rush brought miners, saloons, boardinghouses, gambling halls, and merchants to the streets of San Francisco. One of those merchants became well known to miners, supplying them with clothing durable enough to withstand the dirt and grime that came with mining. And 172 years later that brand of clothing still exists, hauling in roughly $6.2 billion a year. I’ll tell you what it is in a minute but first let me share more about Johann Rutter … the man who built a reputation in America on a foundation of lies and borrowed money.Sutter’s Empire (And Hidden Gold)When Johann arrived in the U.S in July of 1834, he quickly learned English, then Americanized his name to John Sutter and for some unknown reason, added the title "Captain.”He headed west to Santa Fe because the Santa Fe Trail connected Missouri with the then Mexican city of Santa Fe and it was where many people in engaged in trading, John managed to secure several partnerships for his trading business and did quite well until rumors start circulating that he was cheating them out of money they were due.So once again John was on the move. This time John landed in Westport, Missouri in 1837, where he hired local Shawnee Indians to help him build a hotel. However observers of his daily actions claimed that John exploited his Native American workers' weakness for hard liquor and showed a distinct fondness for young Shawnee women. Wasn’t much longer after his arrival that his business dealings were falling apart and owed people lots of money. Dashing John escaped his debtors again and set out further west, aiming for Sacramento, California. Upon arriving, somehow John convinced a few local people that he was capable of building a trading post and hotel that would attract people who were traveling through the area. But land was not free for the taking in California; in fact John first had to present his idea to Governor Juan Bautista de Alvarad (back then California was still part of Mexico).The Mexican governor, believing that Mexico would benefit from a thriving community in the midst of the undeveloped valley, was enthusiastic about John's plans. He proposed that John could become a Mexican citizen—and the legal owner of a vast tract of land—if he developed the area within a year. Thus John was granted fifty thousand acres near the Sacramento River.With the help of the Native Americans, John constructed a massive military-style structure, known as Sutter's Fort. The fort's eighteen-foot-high and three-foot-thick walls enclosed a trading post that included shops, small "factories," and personal dwellings. Outside the fort, farmland was cultivated, vineyards planted, and livestock grazed. John called his community New Helvetia, which means "New Switzerland."By the 1840s John's empire expanded in size and power. He tripled his land holdings when he purchased Fort Ross and the accompanying acres that surrounded the fort.It’s said that to the new settlers who moved into the valley John offered a warm welcome, a variety of goods, and cheerful assistance in getting established. However to the American Indians who performed the majority of the labor in New Helvetia, John was neither kind nor generous. He paid his Indian laborers in coins that could only be exchanged for goods in his stores, and he never paid them well. Worse, he was not above enslaving Indians when he needed extra labor during harvest season.If there was anything good that happened at Sutter’s Fort, it was the day John appointed a carpenter named James Marshall to oversee the construction of a sawmill.On the morning of January 24, 1848, John Marshall was surveying work on the mill when he spotted something sparkling in the river. Seems construction had disturbed the earth around the riverbed, and the moving water had washed away the gravel and sand to reveal what appeared to be gold. Picking out a few small nuggets, he ran back to the mill workers and shouted, "My eye was caught by something shining in the bottom of the ditch. . . . I reached my hand down and picked it up; it made my heart thump, for I was certain it was gold. . . Then I saw another.”Now John hoped that he could keep Marshall's discovery a secret. However by the spring of 1849, over 50,000 Americans were headed for California. Just one year later in 1850, another forty-four thousand came. The greatest gold rush in American history had begun.​Go West Young ManAs word got out, John’s workmen left their jobs to "dig" for gold, and Sutter's Fort and surrounding fields were soon deserted. The flour mill stood unfinished, hides rotted in the warehouse. All of John’s plans depended on a staff of assistants, field workers, carpenters, and tanners. Suddenly they were gone, with plans of digging for their own goldmines.Within a year after the initial discovery of gold, Sutter's Fort lay at the center of the greatest gold rush in American history. However, Sutter saw no profit from the boom.Since the land was granted to Sutter under Mexican authority, those rights were now under question. Forced into lengthy and expensive court battles, John had to sell much of his property and borrow against the rest. By 1852 John Sutter, once one of the most powerful men in California, was bankrupt.But the city of San Francisco was beaming with miners who brought their entire families with them. The city itself became the central point for supplying miners, leading to a surge in businesses catering to their needs. This included everything from basic supplies like picks and shovels to hotels, saloons, gambling halls and clothing.And this Dear Reader is where we met a young man who at the time was living in New York and heard about the gold rush happening in California. Actually everyone across the country knew about the gold being found in The Golden State.The young man decided this was his chance to strike it rich and make a name for himself.That man was Levi Strauss. Now Levi wasn’t originally from New York. He was born on February 26, 1829, in Buttenheim, Kingdom of Bavaria (modern-day Germany). He was the youngest of seven children.His father, Hirsch Strauss, was a peddler, and his mother, Rebecca Haas Strauss, managed the household. However sadly at the age of 16, his father died of tuberculosis in 1846, leaving the family in financial hardship.Growing up in Bavaria, without a father, Levi would have faced the challenges in a region with limited economic opportunities. So his mother made the decision the family should move to America, where they could join up with his two older brothers who had already immigrated here.So in 1847, at age 18, Levi, his mother, and two sisters boarded a passenger steam ship and made their way across the ocean, arriving in New York three weeks later.Upon debarking, they met up with Jonas and Louis, who had already established a wholesale dry goods business, J. Strauss Brother & Co., at 108 Liberty Street in Manhattan.Levi learned English and became an American citizen. For work, he was a sort of peddler, selling goods like kettles, blankets, and sewing supplies from his brothers’ store. But he also learned the dry goods trade over a period of five years, gaining practical business experience.Since he had that experience Levi was chosen by his family to open a West Coast branch of their dry goods business in San Francisco. At age 24, he traveled via steamship through Panama, arriving on the west coast in March 1854. He took up residence with his sister Fanny’s family.Having a place to live, he then went about establishing the Levi Strauss & Co. at 90 Sacramento Street, importing fine dry goods—clothing, bedding, combs, purses, and handkerchiefs—from his brothers in New York.It didn’t take long for young Levi to realize miners needed sturdy clothing. Striking It Rich (But Not With Gold)Now while Levi was certainly an astute businessman, he wasn’t a designer or knew how to sew. He just knew that had to make a better line of clothing that could withstand the rough and rugged work of miners.So in 1871, Levi turned to a tailor he knew, Jacob W. Davis, who proposed reinforcing work pants with copper rivets at stress points (pocket corners and button fly) to increase durability.Not wanting anyone to steal their idea, they applied for a patent, which was granted on May 20, 1873 (No. 139,121), for “An Improvement in Fastening Pocket Openings.” Levi Strauss & Co. began producing these riveted “waist overalls” using heavy canvas.But the canvas was hard to work with, so they switched fabrics to denim, which they imported from Nîmes, France (“serge de Nîmes”). This new fabric proved so much easier to work with, that seamstresses could do the sewing at home.The riveted pants, marketed as the “Two Horse Brand” for their strength, became an instant hit among workers because (1) their durability and (2) they were priced competitively at $1.46. In fact they were such a hit, that in 1880 Levi moved production to factory in San Francisco.The Levi Strauss & Co. was now bringing in $2.4 million a year in sales. To help you understand just how big that number is, measured in today’s dollars it would be $76,706,160.The introduction of riveted denim pants by Levi Strauss and Jacob W. Davis created a new category of clothing that prioritized durability and functionality. Their jeans met the needs of miners, railroad workers, and farmers in the American West.But they were also innovators. In 1890, the company introduced a new line of jeans, starting with the popular 501 model, which featured a button fly, high waist, and straight fit.By the early 20th century, jeans began shifting from workwear to everyday attire. In the 1930s, Levi’s capitalized on the dude ranch craze, marketing jeans to tourists and urbanites seeking an authentic Western experience. The 1934 introduction of Lady Levi’s, the first jeans for women, expanded their appeal, challenging gender norms in fashion and broadening the market. The Levi & Strauss Company was now a household name.A Cultural InfluencerIn the 1950s, jeans became a symbol of youth rebellion, popularized by icons like James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause and Marlon Brando in The Wild One. Worn by greasers and beatniks, Levi’s jeans represented defiance against conservative dress codes, resonating with post-World War II youth culture. This rebellious image persisted into the 1960s and 1970s, with hippies and anti-establishment movements embracing jeans as a uniform of nonconformity.By the late 20th century, Levi’s jeans transcended national boundaries, becoming a global symbol of freedom and casual style. They were smuggled into the Soviet Union during the Cold War, where they fetched high prices on the black market as symbols of Western culture. In the 1980s and 1990s, jeans became a staple of global youth fashion, worn by everyone from rock stars to students, solidifying Levi’s as a cultural touchstone.Levi’s jeans reshaped the apparel industry by introducing a durable, accessible, and versatile garment that transcended its workwear origins to become a global cultural icon.Their enduring popularity reflects their ability to adapt to changing cultural and social landscapes while retaining a timeless appeal. Today, Levi’s jeans remain a wardrobe staple, worn across generations and contexts—from workplaces to runways.In a “believe it or not” style statement, a whopping 1.25 billion pairs of Levi jeans are sold worldwide every year. They are the number one selling brand of jeans in the world, with Wrangles coming in second place.Amazing Quotes by Amazing People"An expert knows all the answers - if you ask the right questions." - Levi Strauss Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

She wasn’t the ravishing beauty depicted in movies. And she looked nothing like one of the most famous movie stars to ever play her - Elizabeth Taylor.The truth is no one really knows with 100% accuracy what Cleopatra VII, ruler of Egypt for 21 years truly looked like. But we can make a few guesses based on the bust and sculptures that were made of the Queen of Egypt. One of the most prominent is a marble bust dating back to third quarter of the first century BCE, housed in Altes Museum in Berlin Germany. The bust depicts her wearing a royal diadem (headband like crown), a symbol of royalty. Her face is framed with ringlets of curly hair, with the rest gathered in a bun at the back. She has large almond-shaped eyes, a somewhat sloped forehead with a prominent nose, perhaps slightly hooked. Coins that are imprinted with her image are even less flattering almost similar to some of the nicknames, given to her. Cleo was one of her more common nicknames but others included “Golden Mouth” given to her by Julius Caesar, with some sources linking it to her reputation for having above average oral sex skills. The Greeks had an even harsher nickname —"Meriochane," meaning "she who gapes wide for 10,000 men.”Cleopatra had given herself her own nickname — the “New Isis," which most likely refers to a new incarnation of the goddess Isis.Cleopatra —a pharaoh of Egypt, was known for her political acumen, diplomatic skills, and strategic alliances. It’s said she used her charm and “good looks” to form powerful bonds with notable Roman leaders like Julius Caesar and Mark Antony in order to protect Egypt's interests.Not only was she strategic in her decision making, but also in accumulating a vast amount of wealth. That’s because as ruler of Egypt, she controlled significant industries like wheat, papyrus, and unguents, generating an estimated annual income of 12,000 to 15,000 Egyptian talents (a Biblical term to describe a large amount of money).In fact it’s said that her net worth would be around $95 billion in today’s money. Yet there are also essays written about her as being ruthless, reportedly killing several family members in order to solidify her power and retain her stance on the throne.Cleopatra was last in the line of Macedonian rulers of Egypt, the Ptolemaic dynasty, which was founded by one of Alexander the Great's generals. And she was the only member of her house to learn Egyptian, which made her popular amongst the people she ruled.A Pharaoh’s Beauty RoutineJust like women today, Cleopatra used make-up to enhance her looks. She used kohl (galena or malachite) to create dramatic black or green eyeliner, emphasizing her eyes as a symbol of divine insight. She would have worn red ochre or carmine (from crushed insects) to tint her lips and cheeks, applied with brushes or fingers. These vibrant hues signaled vitality and wealth.Cleo was known to bath in donkey milk (imported at great cost) to soften skin, mixed with honey or aloe. The lactic acid in milk gently exfoliated, while fatty acids and antioxidants nourished and protected her skin from Egypt’s harsh sun. She reportedly required milk from 700 donkeys daily for these indulgent baths.She also used face masks made from green grapes and honey. The antioxidants in grapes rejuvenated skin cells, while honey’s humectant properties locked in moisture and protected against aging. And if that wasn’t enough, she used Dead Sea salts as a body scrub to exfoliate and replenish her skin with minerals like magnesium, calcium, and potassium. Oils infused with frankincense or rose kept her skin radiant, reinforcing her Isis-like aura.To keep her teeth “pearly white,” — well as best she could, recipes back then included natron (sodium carbonate), salt, ground alabaster, and myrrh, mixed with honey or resin for binding. These were applied with fingers, twigs, or reeds with frayed ends. Sounds like it could hurt but it was certainly better than letting your teeth rot away. And if you’re a mighty Pharaoh, the last thing you want is bad teeth (and breathe).And that Dear Reader is your clue to what this issue is all about … toothpaste. It’s an industry poised to rise from a high mark of $18.7 billion back in 2023 to $25.7 billion by 2030.It’s something you use every day. Yet you aren’t alone. Studies indicate that approximately half of the world's population, or 3.6 billion people, use it too.Mystic Meanings to a Sugar ExplosionAlthough Egyptians are credited with creating the first version of toothpaste, they do so because they believed oral hygiene warded off spiritual impurities.Of course they weren’t the only ones using some crude form of toothpaste. Chinese records dating back to 3000 BCE mention pastes of ginseng, herbal mints, and salt, used to freshen breath and “balance energies.”Ayurvedic texts as far back as 1000 BCE like the Sushruta Samhita recommend twig brushes (datun) from neem or banyan trees, paired with pastes of charcoal, honey, and camphor. These weren’t just for cleaning—neem was believed to expel “demons” from the mouth, blending medicine with mysticism.Then there’s ancient Greek records around 500 BCE suggesting Hippocrates promoted using herbal pastes with fennel, anise, or crushed oyster shells. Teeth were seen as health barometers—bad breath signaled bodily imbalance. Some Greeks mixed in mouse ashes, claiming it strengthened gums, a practice shrouded in folklore.While these ancient civilizations were using some form of toothpaste, it was most always connected to some kind of spiritual belief and not necessarily to keep your teeth clean.But things changed in the 1600s to 1700s when sugar was introduced to the world, mostly in Europe. It was seen as a status symbol and used in extravagant candies, such as comfits (sugar-coated seeds or nuts), and marzipan. Wealthy households served sugar sculptures or “subtleties” at feasts, showcasing their wealth. It was also used in breads, cakes, and early pastries like tarts and pies, especially in elite kitchens. Recipes like “sack posset” (a sugary, boozy custard) became fashionable, coating teeth in cavity-causing residue.Then there were the preserves, jams and jellies with spoonful’s of sugars. These sticky spreads, slathered on bread or eaten alone, lingered in mouths, fueling rot.And of course it was used in beverages such as sugar sweetened tea, coffee, and chocolate. Sugar’s spread was almost mystical in its allure, dubbed “white gold.” Some 17th-century alchemists claimed it held “vital essences,” yet its dental toll sparked fear. In fact a 1660s English pamphlet warned of sugar as a “sweet poison,” tying it to blackened teeth. Even dentists of the time such as Dr. Pierre Fauchard noted sugar’s role in tooth decay but faced tremendous pushback from physicians who praised its “healing” properties—a mysterious contradiction. Heck even an unknown apothecary (or pharmacist) in 1680, concocted a sugar-free paste to “banish the black rot.” The problem with sugar was so bad that by the 1700s, consumption in England jumped from 4 pounds per person annually to 20 pounds by 1750.Blackened, crumbling teeth—once rare—became common, even among the young. Diaries from the 1680s describe gentry with “rotted mouths,” and dental extractions surged.English folklore linked sugar’s “sweet rot” to divine punishment for gluttony. Some preachers called it a “devil’s gift,” tying decayed teeth to moral indecency.Interestingly enough, germ theory didn’t exist back then, so tooth decay was blamed on “humoral imbalances” or “tooth worms.” This then led to ineffective treatments like bloodletting or burning gums with hot irons, which worsened damage.Tooth decay became a huge public health issue; something had to be done.A Chemist to the RescueYou’ll rarely find his name mentioned in chemistry textbooks, but Carl Wilhelm Scheele was a German Swedish pharmaceutical chemist. He was born in 1742 in Stralsund, a small town on the Baltic coast (now part of Germany) that at the time was under Sweden’s jurisdiction.The son of a rather unsuccessful brewer and corn-chandler, young Carl developed a keen interest in chemistry and went on to become a good pharmacist.After a series of moves around Sweden, Carl settled down for a few years in Uppsala. There, he met a prominent professor of Chemistry, Prof. Torbern Bergman, and together they embarked on a series of pioneering experiments to define the purity of saltpeter (potassium nitrate, also spelled ‘saltpetre’).Carl started heating various substances, including mercuric oxide, potassium nitrate, silver carbonate, manganese nitrate, manganese oxide, and more, all of which resulted in the production of odorless and tasteless gases.In truth what he actually discovered was oxygen. However Carl named this gas “Feuerluft” (fire-air), and unfortunately, did not report his discovery until 1777. But it was already too late because Joseph Priestly published his own independent discovery of the gas in 1775, noting it as oxygen.That was not his only discovery. Carl went on to isolate for the first time many organic acids, among them tartaric, oxalic, lactic, mucic, uric, prussic, citric, malic (which he called “acid of apples”), gallic, and pyrogallic acids, as well as other organic substances such as casein, aldehyde, and glycerol.And it was his discovery of glycerol in 1779 that would revolutionize the dental industry, particularly in the formation of toothpaste — one that actually worked.In fact British apothecaries like the 1660s English pamphlet warned of sugar as a “sweet poison in London were central to formulating medicinal and cosmetic products, including “dentifrices.” Once the discovery of glycerol was made, they began incorporating it into toothpaste mixtures.By the 1780s, recipes for tooth powders evolved into pastes, with glycerin as a binding agent. Certain British brands like “Dr. Bate’s Tooth Powder” advertised “secret ingredients” in their dentifrices, which likely included glycerin, sourced from soap-making (a byproduct of saponifying animal fats).John Harris, a British dentist and apothecary, is credited with advancing dental care in the mid-1800s by adding chalk to pastes for gentler abrasion. His 1850s “Dental Cream” became popular all across London. Other toothpaste brands began to pop up as well, and Europeans took to using them with enthusiasm.As for the U.S., well … we were lagging behind in keeping our teeth clean.Candles, Soaps and Building a BusinessThat’s because in the 1600s, most American colonists, especially in rural areas, had limited access to dental care. Tooth cleaning, if practiced at all, involved European-inspired methods: chewing twigs (like Native American “chew sticks”), rubbing teeth with rags, or using homemade powders of chalk, charcoal, or burnt bread.However wealthy colonists in urban centers (e.g., New York, Charleston) used imported British or French tooth powders, which included glycerin following the same trends happening in Europe.The problem in the U.S. was that colonies lacked the infrastructure for mass production of toothpaste remedies. It was left mostly to small time apothecaries who hand mixed small batches for local communities. For many Americans, dental care was often handled by barbers or blacksmiths, who pulled teeth rather than prevented decay.And just like what occurred in Europe also began to take place in the U.S.—rotting teeth from too much sugar consumption. With “black teeth” on the rise, one man seized the opportunity to change the fate of America’s dental health forever.That man was William Colgate, born on January 25, 1783, in Hollingbourne, Kent, England, to Robert Colgate, a farmer and local politician, and Sarah Bowles.At age six, the family moved to a farm near Shoreham, Kent, where young William grew up in a rural, agricultural setting. This early exposure to hard work and resourcefulness likely influenced his later entrepreneurial grit.The family would have stayed in England if it were not for the political tensions brewing from the American and French Revolutions. In fact his father was quite politically active and outspoken and fearful of backlash, in March 1798, when William was 15, the family to Baltimore, Maryland.As for work, Robert partnered with Ralph Maher to manufacture soap and candles, with teenage William assisting them. Unfortunately the partnership dissolved after two years, but the experience gave William hands-on knowledge of soap-making, which most likely was a precursor to his later work with glycerin-based products like toothpaste.On the move again, the family relocated to Delaware County, New York, continuing their farming life. However at 21, William left rural life for New York City, where he apprenticed with a soap-boiler.Two years after that apprenticeship was completed, in 1806 William Colgate founded a starch, soap, and candle business located at 6 Dutch Street in Manhattan.William began as a sole proprietor, producing tallow-based soaps and candles, using skills he honed in his father’s failed Maryland venture and his New York apprenticeship. He boiled fats in large kettles, a process that yielded glycerin as a byproduct, though its commercial use was limited back then. His business model emphasized quality and affordability, targeting both merchants and households. By 1807, he advertised “fine soaps” in local papers, building a reputation for reliability.But sometimes things get in the way of what you want to do and, in his case, it was a war. Saving America’s Rotting Teeth The War of 1812 disrupted trade, raising tallow costs particularly for William’s business, but he adapted by sourcing local fats and maintaining low prices. It was also around this time that William partnered with Francis Smith, an already established businessman with connections to New York’s business leaders. William renamed the company Smith & Colgate. Francis more than likely provided additional capital, expertise, and market connections to further scale production of the soaps his company made. William’s frugality—living modestly and avoiding debt—aided in keeping the business solvent. But the partnership didn’t last long. Sometime in the latter half of 1813, William bought out Smith, renaming the business William Colgate & Company. He also reinvested profits to expand, moving to larger premises at 50 John Street by 1817. By the 1820s, he employed a small team, including his brother Bowles, and began exporting soaps to the South and West Indies, capitalizing on New York’s trade hub status.He also formally named his enterprise, Colgate & Company. He then began to expand the business into perfumed soaps and shaving creams, because there was growing consumer demand for grooming products.But there was also demand for something else … something that would help prevent “black-teeth”—the scourge spreading across the country. In fact newspapers and medical journals reported rising dental issues, with dentists like Pierre Fauchard and later American practitioners linking sugar to cavities. Even New York diaries written in 1820s describe the horrible “blackened teeth” seen among so many in the middle class who enjoyed sugary treats and drinks and could afford them.By this time William’s business was mostly family owned and operated. His brother became his partner and his sons: James, Robert and Samuel helped with operations and manufacturing. Realizing that soap production generated glycerin, his son Samuel urged his father to begin making a toothpaste that would allow people of all classes to keep their teeth clean, while at the same time preventing rot.Wanting to stay close to their business roots of manufacturing soaps, in 1840 the company introduced “Dental Soap.” But it wasn’t really a soap, it contained chalk, a common abrasive to scrub plaque, and was gentler than earlier coral or pumice.It also included finely ground soap flakes, derived from Colgate’s tallow-based soaps. The flakes were added to create a slight foam and cleansing effect. This gave the product its “soap” name, though the soap content was minimal to avoid a harsh taste.And then a few flavorings such as herbs like peppermint, spearmint, or cloves. While somewhat successful, the powder form of Dental Soap was inconvenient—hard to apply precisely and prone to clumping.While their Dental Soap was somewhat of a success, William’s son Samuel was determined to make an even better product. In fact when William passed away in 1857, Samuel took over as President while his brothers Robert and James managed operations and finances.As President Samuel Colgate hired chemists (names unrecorded, as was common for proprietary work) to formulate the paste. The team experimented in Colgate’s New York facilities, using vats and mixing equipment adapted from soap production.Developing the paste involved blending glycerin with abrasives and flavorings. Early attempts may have mimicked Colgate’s Dental Soap, adding glycerin for texture. The process required balancing abrasion (to clean teeth) with palatability (to avoid soapy tastes).By 1873, Colgate used steam-powered mixers to produce large quantities of paste, a leap from hand-mixed powders. The paste was poured into glass jars, hand-packed by workers, and sealed for distribution. The put labels on each jar, which read “Colgate’s Aromatic Toothpaste.”The brothers were smart enough to leverage Colgate’s soap distribution network (rail, ships), which enabled the toothpaste to reach urban drugstores and rural general stores, making it widely accessible.They also ran ads in newspapers like The New York Times and Harper’s Weekly, targeting middle-class families. The ads promised “preservation of teeth” and “pearly smiles,” directly addressing sugar’s decay.By 1875, thousands of jars were sold annually, cementing Colgate’s dominance.Get Bigger, Get BetterAnd from that point forward, the toothpaste hits just kept coming and coming. For instance:* In 1896, Colgate introduced Colgate Ribbon Dental Cream, the first toothpaste in collapsible tubes. Those tubes were the invention of Dr. Washington Sheffield in 1892, with inspiration drawn by artists' paint tubes. * In 1896, Colgate hired chemist Martin Ittner, establishing one of the first applied research labs. Martin’s work refined toothpaste formulas, improving stability and flavor.* By 1900, Colgate offered over 800 products, including soaps and perfumes, manufactured in New York and in their new Jersey City facility, which they had opened in the late 1800s.* In 1910, Colgate distributed two million tubes and brushes to schools promoting oral hygiene while also promoting their brand.* In 1914 Colgate established its first international subsidiary in Canada, followed by France (1920), Australia, the UK, Germany, Mexico, the Philippines, Brazil, Argentina, and South Africa by the late 1920s.* In 1928, Colgate merged with Palmolive-Peet, forming Colgate-Palmolive-Peet Company (renamed Colgate-Palmolive in 1953). Palmolive, founded by B.J. Johnson in 1864, made the world’s best-selling soap by 1898, using palm and olive oils. Peet Brothers (founded in Kansas City, 1872) merged with Palmolive in 1926. The 1928 merger combined three major soap makers, with pre-merger sales exceeding $100 million.* In 1953, the company officially dropped “Peet” from its name, becoming Colgate-Palmolive Company. This reflected the dominance of the Colgate and Palmolive brands and simplified the corporate identity.* In 1955, Procter & Gamble’s Crest, the first fluoride toothpaste, overtook Colgate as the U.S. market leader. Fluoride’s cavity-fighting properties (discovered in the 1900s) gave Crest an edge. Colgate countered by adding MFP fluoride (sodium monofluorophosphate) in 1968, regaining ground. By the 1970s, Colgate reclaimed the #1 spot.* By 1939, sales hit $100 million, with toothpaste as a key driver.In 2024, Colgate-Palmolive's net sales reached a record $20.10 billion, a 3.3% increase compared to 2023. Today, Colgate is the number one selling toothpaste brand globally, holding the largest market share. A Legacy Born from the Power of InnovationThe story of Colgate-Palmolive, from William Colgate’s modest soap and candle shop in 1806 to the global toothpaste titan it became by 2024, is a testament to entrepreneurial vision and relentless adaptation. Born in an era when sugar’s “sweet poison” ravaged teeth across Europe and America, Colgate seized the opportunity to combat decay with innovation. From the gritty Dental Soap of the 1840s to the groundbreaking Aromatic Toothpaste in 1873, the company harnessed glycerin—a byproduct of its soap-making roots—to create a smooth, effective paste that transformed oral care. Their story also underscores the power of turning adversity into opportunity, a lesson that resonates beyond the toothpaste tube. It also invites us to build with purpose, persevere through setbacks, and create products that not only meet needs but shape lives. Amazing Quotes by Amazing People“Innovation distinguishes between a leader and a follower.” — Steve Jobs Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

The blue haze rises just above the clear, rushing water of the Pigeon River, which is in the Smokies, or as they are officially known - the Great Smoky Mountains . In fact that’s how the mountains got their name … from the blue haze.The Pigeon River, which is a translation of its 18th-century French name, Rivière aux Tourtre runs through the mountains, starting in North Carolina, and covers over 70 miles before emptying into the French Broad River in Newport, Tennessee.The river is hydroelectric dam-controlled, which means its ebb and flow is controlled by the Walters Dam, built in 1930. The dam itself reaches a height of 180 feet tall and around 800 feet long. It’s actually one of the countries more smaller dams, with the tallest one in the U.S. being Oroville Dam at 770 feet.But how did Pigeon River get its name?If you guessed from a pigeon, you’d be right. Turns out passenger pigeons used the water as a guide for migration each year. But the poor birds were also a source of food for The Meherrin people, a Native American tribe that lived in North Carolina around the 13th and 14th centuries.In the spring, Meherrin scouts would go out in the early part of the day to locate large roosting populations of pigeons. Using long poles, they would knock the younger birds from their nests, making it easy for them to catch. In the evenings, the scouts hunted adult pigeons with blunt arrows. Once caught, the pigeons were boiled, smoked, or dried for preservation. Their fat was used in cooking, notably for frying cornbread or making dumplings.But it wasn’t just the Meherrins that dined on pigeons - so did early European settlers. In 1709 a settler named John Lawson documented the abundance of passenger pigeons, describing flocks of "many millions" that could break tree limbs with their weight.In fact Lawson also noted that some Native American towns had over 100 gallons of pigeon fat stored in barns and huts. Sadly because of the intensive hunting of the birds, their numbers slowly dwindled from roughly 3–5 billion across North America to near extinction in the early part of the 19th century.Why are we talking about passenger pigeons in the first place? Well, it’s not so much the birds that matter to our story (well yes, their lives mattered) but the river they were named for - the Pigeon River. Because in 1898, Newport Tennessee’s transportation infrastructure was limited, with dirt roads and rudimentary rail connections. So if you were manufacturing goods back then, shipping your products on the roads and rails was risky business. Sometimes the stuff being shipped would break from the rough roads. And the rails weren’t always dependable.The best way to avoid any of these headaches was putting your goods on the boats and barges that moved up and down the River. In fact the Pigeon River was integral to the region’s agricultural and economic life, as it supported local farmers who grew crops such as corn, wheat, squash, pumpkins, tobacco, potatoes and tomatoes. One of the local farming businesses that shipped their crops of canned tomatoes on the Pigeon River was the Stokely Brothers & Company. Over time the company expanded from canned tomatoes to beans and eventually into beverages.In fact that beverage is now the world’s leading sports drink, generating an incredible $7 billion in sales annually.But the beginning wasn’t easy because the family faced several hardships, starting with the ….The Country’s First Economic DisasterIt’s not often talked about in newspapers, but The Panic of 1893 was a severe economic depression in the United States … one of the worst in its history until the Great Depression of the 1930s.The panic was triggered by a combination of both domestic and international economic factors that destabilized the U.S. economy.One such factor was the rapid expansion of railroads during the 1880s, fueled by speculative investments and massive borrowing, which led to overbuilding. Many railroads, including the Philadelphia and Reading Railroad, collapsed in February 1893, became insolvent, and dragged down banks and businesses that had invested heavily in them.Another factor was that the U.S. was on the gold standard, and the Treasury was required to maintain a minimum of $100 million in gold reserves. By April 1893, reserves fell below this threshold, sparking fears that the U.S. might abandon the gold standard. This led to a run on gold as investors rushed to convert paper currency and securities into gold, intensifying the crisis.Then there was a banking catastrophe happening in Australia, and economic downturns in France and Germany. Foreign investors began to withdraw funds from U.S. markets, further draining gold reserves.The Panic led to widespread unemployment, bank and business failures, and agricultural distress, with ripple effects felt in rural areas like the Pigeon River region. Farmers in this area saw a decline in crop prices, which made it harder for them to credit from banks. And that made it difficult for the farmers to pay their debts or have money to invest in new planting.Something had to be done to reverse course. So in order to provide nationwide economic relief, in February 1895, President Grover Cleveland borrowed $65 million from J.P. Morgan and the Rothschild banking family through the Morgan-Belmont Syndicate to bolster Treasury reserves.The loan involved the sale of U.S. bonds to acquire gold from European sources. That deal, considered controversial at the time, helped restore confidence in the U.S. dollar.Eventually by 1897, the economy was back on an upward tick. Yet sadly, the Stokley family faced a hardship of the personal kind.A Girl’s Got To Do What A Girl’s Got To Do John Burnett Stokely, head of the Stokely family was born on August 9, 1846, in the Pigeon River region of Tennessee to Charles Stokely and Sarah Black. He was one of several siblings, including Sarah Ellen Stokely (1851–1936), Jesse William David Stokely Sr., and several others.Family records show that generations of Stokelys had lived in the area going back as far as 1690 with the birth of Joseph Stokley. And each generation of Stokley’s were farmers.Because the family had lived in the area for many generations, John Burnett Stokely was quite a notable figure.So notable that in 1872, he married Anna Rorex, daughter of James Addison and Rebecca Badgett Rorex, in Cocke County, Tennessee. Together, they had five sons (James R., John M., William B., George Sassing, and Jehu Thomas) and three daughters.John and Anna ran the family farm. Their main crops were vegetables and tomatoes, which they sold at local markets. They struggled when the Panic of 1893 hit. But for this family things were going to get a lot worse.That’s because on September 1, 1890, John suddenly died at the age 44. I couldn’t find any historical records to show the cause of death but it could have been a heart attack or "la grippe," which was basically a form of influenza.But what we do know is his death placed a personal and financial hardship on Anna because she not only had to run the family farming business but also raise the children. And because John was seen as the “principal purveyor of the farm,” Anna found it difficult maintaining business relationships that John had developed over the years.Now Anna probably got some help from the tight-knit Appalachian community that surround the area such as bartering for food or other resources that were needed. But whatever aid she received, it certainly was not enough to sustain the family forever.Anna had to figure something out and quickly. Luckily by then her sons James and John were teenagers and helped as much as possible, not only on the farm but taking odd jobs whenever possible.Those odd jobs provided James with inspiration for the family to do something bigger than selling their vegetables and tomatoes to local markets. In fact he realized that if the family started canning the farm’s produce, particularly tomatoes, they could sell it in distant markets, which would allow them to expand the business. And if they were successful at doing that, then they would bring in the money needed to keep the farm afloat. Anna liked his idea. So she and her children began experimenting with home canning, gaining the skills and knowledge to actually start the business. At the same time, she managed to save up money to put toward opening their new enterprise.In fact by 1898 Anna saved $1,300 to invest into the business alongside a neighbor, A.R. Swann who matched her investment. Her sons James R. and John M. each put up $650, which allowed the family to form Stokely Brothers & Company - a canning company set up along the French Broad River.With the company now formed, they began the canning process, which involved washing and sorting the tomatoes by hand for quality assurance. After that, the tomatoes were blanched briefly in hot water to loosen the skins. The next step was peeling the skins of manually — either entirely or by scoring and then slipping off the skin. Once that was completed, the tomatoes were then pushed or squeezed through funnels directly into cans.The cans were hand-soldered shut, which basically involved manually applying a solder to seal the metal lids onto cans. Once sealed, the filled cans were boiled or steamed in large vats to sterilize the contents. This step was crucial for killing microbes and reducing spoilage.After cooling, the cans were labeled, stacked, and ready for distribution. Call them hard workers or just desperate to succeed but in their first year of business, the Stokely family managed to pack 4,000 cases of tomatoes, which is an incredible amount. Those cases were then shipped by barge to markets in Knoxville and Chattanooga.One Thing Leads to AnotherThose 4,000 cases of tomatoes marked the beginning of a very successful business enterprise.While records are scarce on how much money they actually made, the success of the first season enabled the Stokely Brothers & Company to quickly expand their operations. They also divided up the business into different sections with James managing operations, John handling sales, William overseeing farms, and George focusing on machinery.They created a robust business model that allowed them to pursue new opportunities almost as quickly as they came about. Those opportunities continued to have a positive impact on the business.So much so that by the early 20th century, the Stokely’s had acquired over 1,400 acres in Tellico, Tennessee, which allowed them to grow larger quantities of crops. And at the same time, they diversified their canning portfolio to include sauerkraut, green beans, corn, peas, tomatoes, and lima beans.And their business kept growing. By 1936, Stokely Brothers & Company was recognized as the largest vegetable packing company in the world, operating 70 plants across five states, with nine in Indiana.When the Stokelys expanded their business into Indiana, a funny thing happened - they were introduced to another canning company - one many considered a pioneer in the industry.Some Beans With Those Tomatoes PleaseThat company was the Van Camp Packing Company, established in 1861 in Indianapolis, Indiana, by Gilbert C. Van Camp and his partners, Calvin Fletcher and Martin Williams.Gilbert C. Van Camp was born in 1814 in Brookville, Indiana, to a farmer and wagon maker of Dutch descent. Not many ancestry records exist on his parents, but more than likely they immigrated to the U.S. before his birth, possibly in the late 18th or early 19th century. But we know they were farmers and Gilbert probably worked on the farm until a teenager. Then he began training as a miller’s apprentice where Gilbert learned the tinsmith trade. He continued in that trade until moving to Indianapolis in 1860.In 1861, Gilbert and his wife Hester, who he married at the age of 35 opened the “Fruit House Grocery” in his new home state of Indianapolis. Their grocery business, located on Missouri Street, sold fresh fruits and vegetables.But being a former tinsmith, Gilbert began canning fruits and vegetables and selling them in their grocery story. But he was also an astute businessman and saw an opportunity to work with the U.S. Army supplying them beans in cans.You see, beans were a stable of the Army’s diet for soldiers but as you can imagine, beans are a little more difficult to cook especially out in the field. So Gilbert came up with the idea of putting the beans in a can, which would keep them preserved for long periods of time. Plus they could be eaten right out of the can.Since the Civil War had just begun, Gilbert somehow managed to secure a contract with the Union Army to supply them with his canned beans. The contract was so lucrative, Gilbert along with partners Calvin Fletcher (a financier) and Martin Williams (a fruit farmer), established the nation’s first successful commercial cold storage warehouse in Indianapolis.The Van Camp Packing Company was formally incorporated in 1875 as G. C. Van Camp & Son, also reflecting the involvement of Gilbert’s sons, particularly Frank Van Camp. By 1882, the company was producing eight million cans of pork and beans annually at its factory. Considering canning was still a relatively new technology, producing that many millions of cans required a highly efficient operation, probably involving hundreds of workers, substantial number of raw materials (pork, beans, and tinplate), and a well-coordinated production lineAnd while the company was doing well, a pivotal moment came in 1894 when Frank Van Camp, after finding the flavor of reprocessed canned baked beans lackluster, added Van Camp’s ketchup to create the iconic “Van Camp’s Pork and Beans with Tomato Sauce.”This recipe, first sold in Pittsburgh, became a national sensation, with the company selling 67,030 cases the following year after aggressive marketing, including a job ad in the Indianapolis News that drew 300 house-to-house canvassers. By 1898, production reached six million cans annually, and by 1909, Van Camp’s, was the nation’s top producer of canned baked beans.The company expanded its product line to include Worcestershire sauce and evaporated milk. By the early 20th century, it operated six plants nationwide. Van Camp’s innovative advertising, including full-page magazine ads and streetcar promotions, helped it dominate the canned food market.But why have two canning companies when one will do?That’s why in 1933, the Stokely brothers put a deal together that merged the two businesses into one. From that point on the name of the company became Stokely-Van Camp Inc.By the 1950s, Stokely-Van Camp operated over 70 plants across 17 states, Canada, and Venezuela, reflecting its rapid growth and ability to scale operations. The company’s focus on canned and frozen vegetables, alongside its signature pork and beans, solidified its position as a household name.Under the leadership of figures like William B. Stokely Jr., the company maintained a family-driven work environment while continually upgrading its manufacturing capabilities. By the time 1960s came around, the company was well-positioned to explore new opportunities - like in the beverage market.Scientifically Backed Drink At the same time that the Stokley-Van Camp Company was looking for new markets to break into, the Florida Gators football team was struggling in the heat, with players experiencing dehydration, electrolyte imbalance, and low blood sugar.So head coach Ray Graves turned to a team of scientist working at the university for help. That team included Dr. Robert Cade, Drs. Dana Shires, Harry James Free, and Alejandro de Quesada who began studying the players' sweat and taking blood samples.They discovered that players were losing significant amounts of water and electrolytes (primarily sodium) through sweat, leading to dehydration and performance decline.Knowing this, they began experimenting with different ingredients that would counter or at least balance out the loss of water and electrolytes that players were losing. One of those experiments rendered a drink containing water, sodium (salt), sugar (for energy), and other electrolytes like potassium and phosphate. This drink was designed to be absorbed quickly by the body, replenishing lost fluids and electrolyte.They then “drafted” 10 football players to taste-test the new beverage during workouts. The initial version of the drink was reportedly not very palatable, with some players even vomiting after drinking it. Dr. Cade's wife suggested adding lemon juice, which greatly improved the taste and made it more appealing to the players.The scientists conducted another round of test with the new version, which took place during a scrimmage between the Gators' B team and the freshmen, with the freshmen, who had been given the drink, showing improved performance. Soon after that, the Gators began winning more consistently, especially in the second half of games, and were no longer suffering from the same levels of heat exhaustion. The drink was a success but now it just needed a name. The University of Florida researchers initially considered naming their product "Gator-Aid." But the doctors soon realized that they probably shouldn't use the 'Aid' suffix, since that would mean that if the drink were ever marketed, they would have to prove that it had a clear medicinal use and perform clinical tests on thousands of people. So they simply renamed it Gatorade.It also just happened that one of Dr. Cade’s research team members, who had worked for Stokely-Van Camp, introduced the company to Gatorade in 1969. Recognizing its commercial potential, company executives struck a deal with Dr. Cade and his team, paying $30,000 in cash and a 5-cent-per-gallon royalty in perpetuity for the rights to produce and market Gatorade. A year after its commercial introduction, Stokely-Van Camp tested multiple variations of the original Gatorade recipe, finally settling on more palatable variants in lemon-lime and orange flavors. A Woman to the RescueBy the time Quaker Oats acquired Stokely-Van Camp in 1983 (after a bidding war with Pillsbury), Gatorade was seen mostly as a niche drink for athletes, mostly football players - professional, college and high school level. However one woman believed it could be something much larger. And also appeal to a larger consumer market. And that woman was Susan Wellington.But not everyone on the Quaker Oats executive team agreed. The board meetings were filled with hesitation. Even doubt. Why fix was isn’t broken?Susan was determined and she didn’t give up. She believed in the drink. After all, she was a competitive swimmer and triathlete herself. So you could say she had a natural affinity with people who competed in sports related activities.She was also a consumer-centric driven person. Susan spent significant time engaging directly with consumers, getting their feedback on the drink. Heck she even visited places like New Trier High School to as she described "crack the teen code."All her hard work paid off. When she first took over the brand under Quaker Oats, Gatorade’s revenues were around $250 million. However under her stewardship, Gatorade went from a niche sports drink to a $4 billion brand by the timePepsiCo’s acquired Quaker Oats in 2001 for $13.4 billion.Today Gatorade is the number-one sports drink not just in the United States but also in several other countries, including Canada, Mexico, Italy, Argentina, Brazil, Venezuela, Colombia, Indonesia, and the Philippines. It holds a dominant market share, accounting for approximately 67.7% of the U.S. sports drink market.Gatorade's dominance in the sports drink market is significant, with sales that are often five times greater than its closest competitors such as Powerade and Monster Energy. Last year alone, Gatorade reported $7.2 billion in annual sales.What began as a family farm, carried through economic hardship by Anna Stokely’s resolve and her sons’ vision, grew into a canning empire that transformed the food industry. Their bold acquisition of Van Camp’s and eventual pivot to Gatorade—a drink born from scientific curiosity and a desire to solve a real-world problem—shows how small beginnings can lead to monumental impact.Amazing Quotes By Amazing People“All great things have small beginnings.” - Peter Senge Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Editor’s Note: Let me apologize for you not receiving this issue as normally scheduled. But I had some technical issues that prevented me from sending this to you as it’s regularly scheduled time. The problem has been fixed. So here’s the issue, just a little late.Life was incredibly harsh … especially if you were a peasant living in Russia in the early part of 1800s. You see back then there were distinct classes of people: Tzars, nobles, merchants, clergy, and peasants (also known as serfs). In fact serfdom was a critical part of the Russian Empire. If you were unfortunate enough to be a serf, you had to work on the estate of a noble or lord, either farming the land or performing labor-intensive tasks such as plowing, sowing, harvesting, or maintaining estate roads and fences. You also had an obligation to pay hefty dues in the form of crops, money, or labor. A serf could own some property but could not leave the estate without permission, marry freely, or pursue independent livelihoods without the landowner’s consent.When you weren’t working on the estate, you were busy growing crops like rye, barley, oats, or vegetables just to feed your family and also to pay the dues you owed the landowner. Those dues amounted to about one third of what you produced. Serfs faced long working hours, poor living conditions, and were vulnerable to famines and harsh winters. And basic necessities such as housing, clothing and the little bits of crops you grew were sparse. And things got much worse during the cholera epidemic of 1830–1831, which originated from India and spread via trade routes through Central Asia. The epidemic killed an estimated 100,000–200,000 Russians, which caused even more financial distress for serf families. Basically being born into a serf family meant starting life in poverty, with restricted rights and little access to education or other vital resources.But in this issue, I’m going to tell you about a man, born in 1831 to a poor peasant family, who had no formal education or access to advanced machinery, yet overcame severe social and economic constraints serfs faced and went on to create what is now one of the best-selling brands of liquor.Not only is the best selling brand but it generates a whopping $7.2 billion in revenue for distillers. A Royal Coat of ArmsIn 1831, Nicholas 1 was the Tzar of Russia and a member of the House of Romanov, which ruled Russia for over three centuries. His reign was one of preserving serfdom, while fostering a secret police state. After his death, on March 2, 1855, his son Alexander II became Emperor of All Russia. Alexander was known as the "Tsar Liberator" because he was all about reform and even abolished serfdom in 1861.Yet of the many things he changed, the one thing he didn’t was continuing to issue warrants. Now Dear Reader we’re not talking arrest warrants, we’re talking the kind of warrant that is an official recognition granted by a monarch to a company or individual for supplying goods or services, signifying quality and prestige.Called a Royal Warrant, it allows the recipient to display the royal coat of arms or a similar emblem on their products, advertising, or premises, signaling royal endorsement.Most monarchies … even modern day ones have a Royal Warrant, including United Kingdom, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Belgium, Spain and host of other countries. For the House of Romanov, the royal coat of arms included a black double-headed eagle with outstretched wings, each head wearing a gold imperial crown. The eagle holds a gold scepter and orb in its talons. Above it is a larger crown, symbolizing the Tsar. On the eagle’s chest is a red shield with a gold-armored St. George on horseback, spearing a dragon … a symbol of Moscow and Russian Orthodoxy. Any business who received a Royal Warrant considered it an honor. It meant the Royal family considered the goods you produced to be of the highest quality.One of the most recognized items that received the Russian Imperial Royal Warrant were the Fabergé eggs created by the House of Fabergé, and founded by Gustav Fabergé. If you’re note familiar with them, they were a series of elaborately designed and jeweled eggs given as Easter gifts to the Tzarina. Each one is a unique work of art, featuring intricate details like guilloché enamel, precious stones, gold, and hidden surprises that could be anything from miniature portraits and watches to elaborate mechanical objects such as singing birds or miniature trains.(As a side note, my father who was born in Moscow Russia 1932 inherited a silver Fabergé triptych from his mother, born in Moscow in 1914. His story is incredible - one of being separated from her at age five, to finding lost relatives after an 80 year search. Perhaps one day I’ll tell you all about it.)But other products received the Royal Warrant as well and one of those just happened to be a brand of vodka created by the man I mentioned earlier … the one who was born into serfdom in 1831. That man was Pyotr Arsenievich Smirnov.A National PastimeWhen a country consumes around 6–10 liters of alcohol per year, you can call it a national pastime. And in Russia vodka was the alcohol of choice. However back in the 1800s it was called khlebnoe vino ("bread wine") or polugar, referring to its traditional distillation methods. Those methods involved fermenting grain (mostly rye), and then distilling it to concentrate alcohol.Grains were milled into coarse flour or meal and then mixed with hot water to create a mash. The hot water was added to break down starches into fermentable sugars, a process called saccharification.The mash was then cooled and mixed with wild or cultivated yeast, which then turned fermented sugars into alcohol. The resulting braga (fermented mash) had an alcohol content, typically 5–8% ABV, and a cloudy, grainy texture with a sour taste.But even with the sour taste, Russians drank it regularly. In villages like Kayurovo where Pyotr was born, serfs paid for vodka with their meager earnings or bartered for goods, since cash was scarce.However in cities like Moscow vodka was more accessible through state-regulated taverns or private sellers. Merchants and artisans consumed vodka socially, often in taverns, which were hubs for trade and networking.The upper classes on the other hand drank a higher-quality vodka, often produced by estate distilleries with serfs doing most of the work. It was served at banquets, alongside imported wines, and was considered a status symbol especially when presented in ornate bottles.When Alexander II got rid of serfdom, it freed 23 million serfs, allowing them to own businesses and move move freely. By 1961 Pyotr Arsenievich Smirnov was a freed serf. As an adolescent, he moved to Moscow, where he began to educate himself about business, particularly the production and marketing of alcoholic beverages.But he wasn’t starting from scratch. He already had some knowledge because Pyotr inherited a distillery from his uncle Ivan Smirnov, who had been making estate vodka for years. Pyotr also had experience selling it as well because he was known as a “vodka peddler.”Go Big, Go RoyalAfter moving to Moscow Pyotr Smirnov opened a small liquor store using the funds he managed to save from his vodka peddling business.The store was more than likely a simple shopfront, possibly with a small storage area for barrels or bottles. Pyotr faced competition from state-controlled taverns (kabaks) run by tax farmers (otkupshchiki), who often sold cheap vodka. Established distillers and merchants also dominated the market as well.But Pyotr had a secret weapon that made the vodka he produced more popular than his competitors. He focused on purity, using high-quality grains and clean water, which was sourced from Moscow’s rivers or wells. While other vodkas were cloudy, his was clear. Pyotr also developed a charcoal filtration system, which helped distinguish his vodka for its smooth taste rather than the traditional sour taste of most other brands. In fact by 1866 his vodka was so popular that Pyotr established a distillery on Moscow’s Ovchinnikovskaya waterfront, employing about 25 workers. The distillery operated under the name PA Smirnov.Although the distillery was small in size compared to state-backed operations, he managed to produce 50–200 liters of vodka a day.By the 1870s, Pyotr expanded his business offering a variety of vodkas, from affordable options for peasants to premium spirits for the nobility, all the while broadening his market to reach other cities in Russia.He also built a network of retailers and taverns to sell his vodka, leveraging Moscow’s notoriety as a major trade hub. And he began labeling his vodka with the name Smirnov embossed in red at the top of the bottle … something other distillers weren’t doing.By 1886, Smirnov’s distillery was among Moscow’s largest, capturing two-thirds of the city’s vodka market. His focus on quality earned awards at international exhibitions, like Vienna (1873) and Philadelphia (1876).That kind of recognition gets easily noticed and the Imperial Royal Family was well aware of his accomplishments. So in 1886, Smirnov’s company was named “Purveyor to the Imperial Court,” allowing him to use the double-headed eagle emblem. This boosted sales and prestige, as consumers associated his vodka with royal endorsement.By Smirnov’s death in 1898, his company was Russia’s leading vodka producer, with over 1,500 employees, multiple distilleries, and exports to Europe. His fortune made him one of Russia’s richest men, with his distillery generating $20 million annually (in today’s terms)..Pytor left a fortune to his family worth around $8.7 million gold rubles, which, adjusted to 2025 values, equates to approximately $130 million. As for his vodka company, that was taken over by three of his five sons: Pyotr Petrovich Smirnov, Nikolai Petrovich Smirnov, and Vladimir Petrovich Smirnov.Under their leadership, PA Smirnov remained Russia’s top vodka producer. The company retained its Imperial Warrant under Tsar Nicholas II and expanded its product line, including flavored vodkas and premium spirits.Disruption From The Revolutionary Kind Things were going extremely well for the Smirnov brothers until they weren’t … or at least until The Bolshevik Revolution of 1917 led by Vladimir Lenin.The Bolsheviks a faction of the Russian Social Democratic Labour Party, took control of power in Russia. Their actions included: seizing key government buildings, dissolving the Constituent Assembly, and initiating a civil war against anti-Bolshevik forces. Tzar Nicholas II and his family were placed under house arrest in Tsarskoye Selo, then moved to Tobolsk and later Yekaterinburg as the Bolsheviks consolidated power.In July 1918, amid the Russian Civil War and fears of a White Army advance, the Bolsheviks executed Nicholas II, his wife Alexandra, their five children, and their retainers in Yekaterinburg to prevent their rescue or use as a rallying point for monarchists.For Pyotr’s family it meant seizing their assets including the distillery, and thus ending the family’s control in Russia. Pyotr Petrovich and Nikolai remained in Russia but of course lost complete control of the business. While details on their fates are less documented, some accounts suggested they faced a life of hardship.However Vladimir Petrovich Smirnov fled to Europe, first to Constantinople (Istanbul) and then to France, where he re-established the brand as “Smirnoff” (using the French spelling) in the 1920s.Vladimir opened a distillery in Paris but struggled financially due to limited market recognition and not having the help of his brothers. Facing financial difficulties, Vladimir sold the rights to the Smirnoff brand to Rudolf Kunett, a Russian émigré in the United States. Kunett attempted to market Smirnoff in America but saw limited success. That’s because Smirnoff’s Russian heritage, tied to Pyotr Smirnov’s imperial legacy, had little recognition in the U.S., and Prohibition’s repeal in 1933 had flooded the market with competing spirits.So he sold the rights for $14,000 to Heublein Inc. a Connecticut-based spirits and food company in 1938. The company had a breakthrough with Smirnoff vodka in 1941 with the invention of the Moscow Mule. It is a combination Smirnoff vodka, ginger beer, and lime, served in a copper mug.The drink was actually a collaboration between Heublein’s president, John Martin, and a Los Angeles bar owner, Jack Morgan, who needed to sell excess ginger beer.Heublein also positioned Smirnoff as the go-to spirit for cocktails like the Bloody Mary, Screwdriver, and Vodka Martini, capitalizing on the 1950s cocktail boom.By the 1960s, Smirnoff was the best-selling vodka in the U.S. Ten years later, Heublein expanded Smirnoff to Europe, Latin America, and Asia, capitalizing on post-war economic growth and the global rise of cocktail culture. In 1987 Heublein was acquired by Grand Metropolitan, a British conglomerate, in 1987. Smirnoff remained a flagship brand, benefiting from Grand Met’s global distribution network.But in 1997, Grand Metropolitan merged with Guinness to form Diageo, a global beverage giant. Smirnoff became one of the British company Diageo’s core brands, retaining its position as the world’s best-selling vodka.It still holds that title today, leading other competitors such as Grey Goose, Ketel One, and Belvedere. In truth Smirnoff's sales volume is more than double that of its closest competitor, Tito's.In the face of serfdom’s crushing weight, one man dared to dream beyond the fields of Kayurovo. Through ingenuity, relentless determination, and an unwavering commitment to quality, he transformed a humble grain spirit into a symbol of excellence that graced the tables of tsars and taverns alike. Pyotr’s journey from poverty to prestige was not just a personal triumph but a beacon of hope, proving that even the most daunting obstacles can be overcome with vision and grit. Today, every bottle of Smirnoff carries the echo of that bold spirit—a reminder that from the darkest of beginnings, a single spark of ambition can ignite a legacy that shines for centuries, inspiring dreamers everywhere to rise, create, and endure.Amazing Quotes By Amazing People“The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.” – Nelson Mandela Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Few people know his name and fewer still know the critical role he played in America’s Industrial Revolution.In fact he helped advanced the U.S.’s textile industry, with multiple innovations while setting up a unique labor model - one famously dubbed the “mills girls,” which I’ll tell you more about in just a minute.For now, let’s talk about the man who had a huge impact on our country’s industrial revolution. That man is Francis Cabot Lowell born in the city of Newburyport, Massachusetts, on April 7, 1775, to a somewhat wealthy family.As a young teen, he attended Phillips Academy, a private, co-educational, boarding-and-day, college-preparatory school. After graduating from the Academy in 1876, he then enrolled at Harvard Law School.Francis wanted to be a shipping merchant and for a short time worked in the family business. But after graduating from Harvard, he decided to travel abroad to France. He spent a year touring France, but in July 1796, he returned to Boston because the French were undergoing their own revolution.When he arrived back home, Francis set up as a merchant on Long Wharf, one of Boston’s up and coming commercial waterfronts. His business specialized in importing silks and tea from China, as well as hand-spun and hand-woven cotton textiles from India.When his father died in 1802, Francis used his inheritance to buy a bunch of merchant ships and also developed the India Wharf and its warehouses on Boston Harbor, which became the center of the trade with Asia.He also set up the Boston Manufacturing Company with the specific goal to manufacture cotton textiles.You see despite its independence, the U.S. was still heavily depended on imports from other countries, particularly textiles. That weakness showed up during the Embargo of 1807, which was an attempt to prohibit imports from countries such as France and Britain who purposely targeted American merchant ships, especially those carrying textiles.Now Francis realized that if the U.S. had any hope of being less dependent on foreign nations for trade, the country would need to start making the things Americans loved here in America.But there’s was just one problem. The country didn’t have the necessary machinery. Francis figured the only way to solve this problem was find out how the equipment was made and then replicate it back here in the U.S.So in June 1810 he traveled to England, and then to Scotland. He took special notice of the spinning and weaving machines, which were operated by water or steam power. In truth, he secretly studied the machines, memorizing all the workings of the power looms without writing anything down.Why no notes? He couldn’t take the chance of being caught “stealing” trade secrets, which is why he memorized every aspect of every power loom.When he returned to the U.S. Francis hired machinist Paul Moody to assist him in designing efficient cotton spinning and weaving machines, based on the British and Scottish models he memorized. But he also added technological improvements that suited the conditions of New England. He then set up The Waltham mill, where raw cotton was processed into finished cloth. And the workers he hired - women, typically between 15 and 35. They came from farming backgrounds, seeking economic independence, educational opportunities, or to support their families.They were known as “the mills girls.” And unlike the harsh conditions of British mills, the system Lowell set up aimed to be more humane, offering relatively high wages ($3 to $4 per week), company-supervised boardinghouses, and educational opportunities. His labor system was designed to attract respectable young women by providing a structured environment with chaperones, mandatory church attendance, and a moral code.The milling systems Lowell created were technological leaps that increased productivity and lowered costs, making textiles a cornerstone of American industry. By 1840, the Lowell mills employed over 8,000 workers, mostly women, producing millions of yards of cloth annually.Francis died on August 10, 1817, at the age of 42 from pneumonia only three years after building his first mill. However, his partners carried forward his ideas, eventually founding the city of Lowell.The City That Shapes YouLowell was a growing industrial hub - one that shaped the city’s identity as a working-class community. One person that was influenced by the city’s identity was Jean-Louis Lebris de Kéroack born in Lowell, Massachusetts, to French-Canadian parents, Léo-Alcide Kéroack and Gabrielle-Ange Lévesque.He’s known mostly today as Jack Kerouac, an American novelist and poet. As a teenager, Jack is said to have been an avid reader, drawn to adventure stories like The Shadow and the works of Thomas Wolfe, whose lyrical style influenced his own. In fact he began writing stories and keeping journals, showing early signs of his literary ambition. Jack was also a bright student and a standout athlete, particularly in football. He went to Lowell High School, where he excelled academically and wrote for the school newspaper. His athletic prowess earned him a football scholarship to Columbia University in New York City.During World War II, he served in the United States Merchant Marine and also enlisted in the Navy in 1942. But here’s where things get odd. He was discharged for psychological reasons, labeled as having a “schizoid personality.”But it’s also while serving in the Navy that he completed his first novel The Sea Is My Brother. The book, which oddly enough was published 40 years after his death, is about his time serving as a merchant marine.Jack allegedly thought that the book was "a crock [of s**t]” as literature, which is why he never bothered to shop it around for a publisher.But that wasn’t his only book because in total, Jack has 36 books published under his name. Some of his most popular and influential books include On the Road, The Dharma Bums, and Big Sur.Many of his books are reflections on his life growing up in Lowell, his travels and the hardships he endured. For instance, at age four, Jack experienced the death of his older brother, Gerard, who died from rheumatic fever.Many people who have studied his work say this loss profoundly affected Jack, fostering a sense of melancholy and spiritual searching. In fact he later wrote about Gerard in Visions of Gerard (1963), portraying his brother as a saintly figure.In 1939, Jack attended Horace Mann School in New York to prepare for college. Founded in 1887, the school is known for its rigorous academic program and commitment to developing well-rounded citizens. It is consistently ranked among the best private schools in New York, particularly for college preparation.In 1940, Jack enrolled at Columbia University but dropped out after a year due to a football injury. He then decided to travel across the U.S., often hitchhiking or taking odd jobs.While traveling he met Allen Ginsberg, William S. Burroughs, and Lucien Carr. I’m telling you these names Dear Reader because they along with Jack started the Beatnik era.The Beat GenerationThe post-World War II era in the U.S. was a time of economic prosperity, Cold War tensions, and social conformity.But people like Allen Ginsberg, William S. Burroughs, Lucien Carr, and Jack Kerouac rejected the materialism and conformity of the “American Dream,” seeking authenticity and meaning in a world they viewed as spiritually hollow. And they created a growing movement in America, known as "Beats” or “Beatniks.” In fact Jack was considered the champion of the movement that was centered in urban areas like New York City (Greenwich Village and Columbia University) and San Francisco.The Beats drew from diverse sources, including jazz (bebop and Charlie Parker), Romanticism (Walt Whitman, William Blake), existentialism, and Eastern philosophies (Zen Buddhism, Taoism). Their work reflected a blend of American individualism and global spiritual traditions.The Beats favored personal freedom over traditional career paths. They celebrated outsiders—hobos, jazz musicians, and drifters—as embodiments of authenticity.Heck they even laid the groundwork for the 1960s hippie movement, influencing figures like Ken Kesey, Bob Dylan, and the Grateful Dead.And they created their own type of “beat” lingo with terms such as:* Beat: A state of being, often associated with weariness, alienation, or a rejection of conventional life.* Cool: Admirable, good, or enjoyable.* Square: A person who is conventional, unhip, or uncool.* Hip: Knowledgeable, sophisticated, or in tune with the latest trends.* Dig: To understand or appreciate something.* Cat: A jazz musician, or a cool person.* Daddy-o: A term of address for a man, often a beatnik.They rejected most everything was associated with “Americana,” instead seeking new things and different experiences. And those new things even included how they dressed, and how they decorated their houses.Make It Cool, Daddy-OFounded in 1870, Stevens Institute of Technology (SIT) is one of the oldest technological universities in the United States and was the first college in America solely dedicated to mechanical engineering.The school consistently appears in top rankings, including those from U.S. News & World Report, The Princeton Review, and Forbes. As for return investment (ROI) it ranks 18th nationally, which is comparable to some Ivy League schools. This basically means that graduates earn high salaries relative to the cost of their education, making it a worthwhile investment.SIT has a large and established alumni network, with graduates working in diverse fields, including government and non-government organizations.One of those alumni was Alfred W. Fielding, born in 1917 in Hackensack, New Jersey. He graduated from SIT in Hoboken, New Jersey, in 1939 with a degree in mechanical engineering and later earned a master’s degree in science from the same institution in 1943.With degrees in hand, Alfred operated a modest machine shop on Wagaraw Road in Hawthorne, New Jersey, along the industrial corridor near the Passaic River.I say modest because he was doing small-scale engineering and manufacturing work. But it was enough work for him to support his family, which included his wife Virginia and young son Howard.Now the industrial corridor along the Passiac River was really a hub of activity, with engineers and scientists working on a variety of projects. And as you would expect, those engineers and scientists go to know one another, sometimes voicing their opinions and adding their expertise on projects.Think of it as a little community network willing to help a fellow scientist or engineer out. That’s probably how Alfred met Marc A. Chavannes, a Swiss chemical engineer, born in 1914.Specific details about his early life, such as his birthplace in Switzerland or family background, are scarce in the sources but we do know that he left Europe around 1939.Some articles I read suggest the reason he left was to distance himself from Nazi-controlled regions, possibly due to his work on lightweight, permeable, waterproof fabrics that could have been of interest to the German war effort.As early as 1948, Marc Chavannes had been experimenting with embossing thermoplastic film and developing textured plastic sheeting.Being quite aware that the Beat generation was looking for bohemian, avant-garde aesthetic and bold, unconventional designs, Marc conceived the idea of a textured, insulating wallpaper, which he pitched to Alfred in 1957.Alfred thought the idea was “right on” for the Beat generation and so the two began collaborating on a textured plastic wallpaper. Working out of Alfred’s garage, they sealed two plastic shower curtains together, trapping air bubbles to form a three-dimensional pattern.Thinking they had created something beatniks would absolutely want, they started marketing as a new kind of wallpaper. Except no one … not even beatniks wanted to put plastic wallpaper filled with bubbles on their walls. Fail Again Until You Get It Just RightThen they tried to market it as a type of insulation material for greenhouses. You know … those transparent structures used to cultivate plants in a controlled environment. But the ventured failed too. While commercial greenhouses were used by florists, vegetable growers, and nurseries, particularly in regions with harsh winters like the Northeast, it was such sub-niche market that the idea of insulation just wasn’t viable.And it certainly wouldn’t work for the consumer market. A glass greenhouse back then would have ranged in price starting at $300–$500, definitely a luxury items for most households.So what else could you do with plastic wrap filled with air bubbles? Maybe … just maybe you could wrap it around delicate items to protect them from getting damaged.That’s exactly what Marc and Alfred decided to do - market their new plastic material as protective packaging. In 1960, March and Alfred founded the Sealed Air Corporation based in Saddle Brook, New Jersey.Alfred would serve as executive vice president and director, while Marc worked primarily as a consultant.To mass produce their new protective packaging, and hire employees, they raised $$85,000 (equivalent to $900,000 in today’s money). They were now ready to roll out their plastic bubble wrap but just needed customers.Their lucky break came 1961 when Frederick W. Bowers, working as a salesman for the company, pitched the material to IBM to protect its delicate 1401 computers during shipping.You see in October 1959, IBM launched the IBM 1401 computer, a groundbreaking “Model T” of mainframe computers that became widely popular, with approximately 10,000 units sold or leased by the mid-1960s. But these machines, leasing for $2,500/month ($18,000 in 2025 dollars), were delicate and required vigorous protection during shipping. Crazy as it seems, back then the computers were shipped protected with materials such as newspaper, sawdust, or horsehair.Yes, horsehair! When Frederick told IBM his company had a much superior protective wrapping, they didn’t flinch to order it. While exact figures are unavailable, the order was likely in the range of thousands of square feet, considering the scale of IBM’s operations and the 1401’s market penetration.IBM’s adoption of Marc and Alfred’s packaging material was significant enough to accelerate bubble wrap’s rise as an industry standard. In fact because of the contract with IBM, it allowed Marc and Alfred to establish the Sealed Air Corporation as a viable business.And Bubble wrap, patented by Alred Fielding and Marc Chavannes, was Sealed Air’s flagship product.Building a Bubble EmpireNow that Sealed Air had gained recognition as a leader in packaging, Marc and Alfred decided it was time to gear up - that is hire more people. So on March 1, 1971, they hired T.J. Dermot Dunphy as the company CEO.One of the first things he did was expand Sealed Air’s line of products. He realized the company could grow bigger and faster if they had more protective packaging materials than just bubble wrap.Some of the new products included: * Instapak Foam: A polyurethane foam-in-place packaging system that expands to cushion products, introduced in the 1960s and widely used for industrial and consumer goods.* Jiffy Mailers and Padded Envelopes: Protective mailing solutions for smaller items, complementing bubble wrap’s applications. * Cryovac Shrink Films: High-performance plastic films for food packaging, particularly for meats and perishables, which became a major revenue driver after Sealed Air acquired Cryovac in 1998 (post-Fielding and Chavannes’ direct involvement).* Other Protective Packaging: Variations like air pillows, foam sheets, and customized packaging solutions for industries like electronics, automotive, and e-commerce. By 1970’s, Sealed Air had become a truly diversified packaging company. And it showed in the numbers too: Sales reached $3 billion annually, with bubble wrap accounting for 10% of revenue ($400 million annually by recent estimates).And the numbers kept going up an up. By 1979, Sealed Air’s annual sales reached more than $70 million. By 1983 sales grew to $124 million, despite a recession in 1982.By 1988, annual sales reached $346 million, with profits of $42 million. And in 20020, they reached the billions mark for the first time with a whopping $4.9 billion in sales.Today Sealed Air Corporation sales revenue sits at $5.39 billion.Alfred Fielding and Marc Chavannes’ ability to transform a twice rejected idea into a ubiquitous product reflects the same innovative spark that drove Lowell’s mills and Jack Kerouac’s prose. Their story is one that inspires entrepreneurs to embrace setbacks as opportunities, showing that a single idea, reimagined with purpose, can change industries and touch lives worldwide. Just as Jack Kerouac’s On the Road captured a generation’s restlessness, bubble wrap’s satisfying “pop” has become a cultural icon, proving that true innovation, whether in literature or industry, leaves a lasting mark on the world.Key Take-Aways and Lessons for Success. And of course, there are lessons we can learn from Marc and Alfred’s story:* Embrace Failure as a Stepping Stone: Alfred Fielding and Marc Chavannes’ initial failures with wallpaper and greenhouse insulation highlight the importance of learning from setbacks. Entrepreneurs should view unsuccessful ventures as opportunities to refine ideas and explore new applications, as the pivot to packaging led to bubble wrap’s success.* Adapt to Market Needs: The inventors’ shift from a niche Beat Generation market to a practical industrial application (packaging for IBM) underscores the need to align products with real-world demands. Understanding customer pain points, like IBM’s need for better shipping protection, can turn a novel idea into a market leader.* Leverage Complementary Skills: The partnership between Fielding (mechanical engineering) and Chavannes (chemical engineering) shows the power of combining diverse expertise. Entrepreneurs should seek collaborators whose strengths complement their own to drive innovation.* Build on a Strong Foundation: Sealed Air’s growth under Dunphy, from $70 million in 1979 to billions by the 1990s, was built on Fielding and Chavannes’ bubble wrap foundation. Entrepreneurs should create scalable systems that allow future leaders to expand and diversify.* Stay Open to Serendipity: Bubble wrap’s success as a packaging material was an unintended outcome of a failed design. Entrepreneurs should remain open to unexpected opportunities, as accidental discoveries can lead to transformative breakthroughs.Amazing Quotes from Amazing People“I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” - Thomas Edison Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

It’s a tiny village in Essex, England known as Navestock. The name means “stump on the headland,” which reflects its topography and landscape.It consists of four scattered hamlets: Navestock Side, Horseman Side, Cuddlesmere Green, and Navestock Heath, and stands near the river Roding.The village has population of just 928 people spread across 4,329 acres of land. Navestock is not served well by main roads despite being well within the London commuter belt. In fact it’s changed very little since it was established back in 1890.If it’s known for anything, it’s the church that sits in the middle of the village, St. Thomas the Apostle Church.So why are we talking about this little village in the first place? Because it was the birthplace of Deacon Edward Convers, a Puritan settler who played a significant role in the establishment of Charlestown and Woburn, Massachusetts.But more than that, it’s the Deacon’s family lineage that leads us to one of the most beloved and enduring rubber-soled shoe that morphed from sports- wear to fashion icon.And so our journey starts here in Navestock where Edward was born sometime around 1588/89.His family was considered “yeoman class,” an English term used to describe a class of people between the gentry (below nobility but above commoners) and laborers, typically owning and working their own land.Edward was likely well-educated for his time, as Puritans emphasized literacy to read the Bible. His ability to sign documents and serve in roles requiring administrative skills (e.g., selectman, surveyor) suggests his was proficient in reading and writing.He was a farmer, miller, and surveyor - occupations that equipped him for leadership in the New World. And that New World would be his arrival in America on June 12, 1630.Edward along with his wife Sarah, and their children Josiah, James, and Mary, braved the rugged conditions of sailing to Salem, Massachusetts, aboard the Arbella, the flagship of the Winthrop Fleet.In 1631, he became a freeman (voter), granting him full civic rights in the colony. He served as a selectman in Charlestown for five years and acted as a deputy to the General Court, indicating early leadership.Edward established the first ferry between Charlestown and Boston in 1631, known as the “Great Ferry,” which operated near the present-day Charles River Bridge. He leased it until 1640, when it was transferred to Harvard College, providing significant income for the institution.In 1640, Edward began surveying land for a new settlement, which became Woburn, Massachusetts. He built the first house and first grist mill along the Aberjona River in 1640–1641, earning him recognition as a founder of the town.His house, located on Main Street, was substantial for the time, measuring 30 by 35 feet with 19 windows, a luxury in early colonial architecture. Edward was one of the colony’s wealthy landowners, with extensive holdings in Charlestown and Woburn. That prosperity came from his work as a farmer and the mill he owned. Edward died on August 10, 1663, in Woburn, aged approximately 73–75. In his will, dated August 1659 he named his wife Sarah, sons Josiah, James, and Samuel, daughter Mary Sheldon, and grandchildren, as well as all kinsmen having rights to his estate, including the mill.And this Dear Reader brings us to the turning point in our story. This is where we meet one of Edward’s descendants … the man who turned that mill into a shoe empire.The Trouble with Rubber In 1839 Charles Goodwin revolutionized the rubber industry by heating rubber with sulfur, which creates cross-links between the rubber molecules, improving its strength, elasticity, and resistance to temperature changes.This was a radical improvement because raw rubber was sticky in heat and brittle in cold, therefore a useless material.Vulcanized rubber as it was known, could now be widely used in industrial applications, creating durable products like tires, hoses, and footwear such as galoshes and boots.By 1900, the U.S. was a global leader in rubber manufacturing, centered in cities like Akron, Ohio (the “Rubber Capital”), and Boston, Massachusetts, near the same mill Edward had built. The industry employed thousands and generated significant revenue, with rubber goods valued at $135 million in 1909.During World War I, rubber became a strategic resource for military applications, including tires for trucks and aircraft, gas mask hoses, and footwear for soldiers.It was during this time the demand for rubber skyrocketed. And when demand goes up, supplies sometimes go down. And soon rubber was an item of scarcity.In Europe rubber plantations were mostly controlled by the French and British, giving both countries a strategic advantage. Germany, lacking its own rubber colonies, faced severe shortages due to the British naval blockade.Because natural rubber was now harder to get, it forced the industry to begin experimenting with synthetic rubber production.One of the first countries to produce a synthetic version was the very company lacking rubber colonies - Germany. In fact in 1909, German chemist Fritz Hofmann, patented the first commercially viable synthetic rubber by polymerizing methyl isoprene. This marked the beginning of synthetic rubber production, though it was expensive and limited in scale.Back in the U.S., synthetic rubber production was negligible because we were already producing it naturally. A few companies such as Goodyear and DuPont began dabbling in synthetic rubber research in the 1920s, but commercial production still lagged that of Germany.However synthetic rubber production quickly ramped up in the U.S. during World War II particularly with Japan’s 1942 occupation of Malaya and the Dutch East Indies. They cut off 90% of U.S. natural rubber imports, creating a crisis for the industry back home. That’s because natural rubber, sourced from Hevea brasiliensis trees found in the Amazon rainforest and Southeast Asia, were critical for products like tires, rubber boots and rubber-soled shoes. To help turn the crisis around, the administration in power at the time was led by President Franklin D. Roosevelt created the U.S. Synthetic Rubber Program, a government-backed consortium involving Goodyear, Firestone, B.F. Goodrich, Standard Oil, and others. This program produced GR-S (Government Rubber-Styrene), a styrene-butadiene rubber, to replace natural rubber cut off by Japanese conquests in Southeast Asia. By 1944, the U.S. produced over 800,000 tons annually, surpassing all competitors.And that was just the kind of production boost one small shoe company needed to keep manufacturing their specialized line of galoshes and tennis shoes.All Star Fashion FootwearIn Malden Massachusetts a then bustling industrial hub, a descendant of Edward Convers decided to go into business for himself. That man was Marquis Mills Converse (the spelling of the surname changed) who owned and operated The Converse Rubber Shoe Company.Marquis was born October 23, 1861, the son of Peter Mills Converse and Sarah Speare Converse. Now there are claims the family is of noble descent from Edward III of England, but data doesn’t exist to provide real proof. Though it’s speculated that his name “Marquis” might reflect his parents’ belief in a noble heritage.Little is known about his childhood experiences or education, except that we know as a younger adult he worked as a manager for a footwear manufacturing firm in Lyme Massachusetts.He then married Alice Houghton Sargent on October 23, 1884, in Lebanon, New Hampshire. They had two children: Frieda (Converse) Goodell and Harold Marquis Converse.He later moved the family to Malden, where in 1908 he opened his rubber shoe company, a bold move for a veteran shoe man. Now the company initially focused on producing utility shoes such as winterized rubber-soled galoshes, for men, women, and children. But it also made rubber tires for automobiles.The rubber they used was sourced from Amazonian exports, shipped via ports like Belém or Manaus to U.S. industrial hubs like Boston. In truth the shoes they made were pretty popular with the company selling 4,000 pairs daily.Now one reason the shoes were popular is because before Marquis set up his rubber shoe company, shoes known as “plimsolls,” emerged in the 1830s, combining canvas uppers with rubber soles for lightweight, waterproof footwear. These were initially luxury items for sports like tennis and croquet, popular among the affluent.Marquis like his forefather Deacon Edward who passed down a legacy of ingenuity through generations, capitalized on this trend with his version of winterized rubber boots, designed for wet and muddy conditions.Those boots were just what the public needed. And following on that success, in 1915, the company began making tennis shoes, with rubber soles that provided traction and durability, ideal for the growing popularity of sports such as tennis and croquet.Then as synthetic rubber became more available and affordable, the company switched to vulcanized rubber, allowing it to produce lightweight, mass-market athletic shoes, known as “sneakers.” The term originated from the quiet, rubber-soled shoes that allowed stealthy movement, contrasting with noisy leather soles.By 1917, Converse’s canvas tennis shoe business had nearly doubled, reflecting rubber’s role in meeting consumer demand. In fact rubber-soled shoes became symbols of modernity and leisure, aligning with the rise of organized sports and physical fitness in the early 20th century. Converse’s tennis shoes were used in sports like tennis and badminton and catered to both athletes and casual wearers. And in that same year, Marquis Converse introduced the world to his All-Star, the no-skid basketball shoe, that shared design principles with his tennis shoes, using vulcanized rubber soles and canvas uppers.At the time basketball was gaining in popularity and Marquis spotted this trend and wasted no time making the new shoe. Its high-top design with a canvas upper and thick rubber sole provided traction and ankle support, ideal for the wooden courts of the era.Priced at approximately $1–$2 per pair, the All-Star was affordable, targeting athletes and recreational players. By the 1920s, the All-Star captured 70–80% of the basketball shoe market, as basketball grew through organizations like the YMCA and collegiate leagues.Exact sales figures are scarce, but Converse’s output reached millions of pairs annually by the 1920s. Marquis’ single decision to focus on rubber-soled shoes positioned Converse as a leader in the emerging athletic footwear market.Sore Feet for The WinCharles (Chuck) Hollis Taylor was born on June 24, 1901, in Brown County, Indiana (likely near Columbus, IN), to James E. Taylor and Ella Taylor. Little is documented about his childhood, but we know that he grew up in a rural Midwestern setting.Since basketball was already a popular sport, he decided to join the team at Columbus High School. He was a skilled but not elite player, known for hustle and teamwork rather than stardom.After graduating high school in 1919, he played semi-professionally for teams like the Columbus Commercials and Akron Firestones, part of early industrial leagues.At the same time the Converse Company had set up its own basketball team as a way to promote their tennis shoes. And so it was only natural that Chuck became a member of the Converse All-Stars.Now when you’re playing basketball for long periods of time, you start noticing small things … like how your feet tend to get sore. And that soreness came from the very shoes you were wearing - Converse All-Star.While the shoe was ascetically pleasing to the eye, its stiff sole and limited ankle support eventually caused your feet to hurt. So one day in 1921, Chuck walked into the Converse Chicago’s headquarters and told the staff his feet were hurting from wearing the shoes. And he was specific too - the shoe’s rigid construction and lack of cushioning led to blisters and soreness.Now the people at Converse could have done one of two things: (1) Tell him to deal with it, or (2) listen to what Chuck had to say about the shoes. Well, they didn’t just listen to him, they hired him as a salesman and product consultant.This became a turning point in Converse’s history as Marquis Converse retooled the All-Star, creating a blueprint for tennis shoes that gripped courts with rubber finesse. Chuck’s tales of sore feet prompted design changes to the All-Star, including:* Increased flexibility: Softer rubber compounds and adjusted sole designs to reduce stiffness.* Enhanced ankle support: Reinforced stitching and a slightly higher cut to stabilize the ankle during lateral movements.* Improved cushioning: Additional padding or insole tweaks, though specifics are undocumented.The company implemented the changes requested by Chuck. And now the All-Star basketball shoe was not only more comfortable but also more performance-oriented, boosting its appeal to athletes.With a basketball in one hand and an All-Star on his foot, Chuck Taylor crisscrossed America, spreading Converse’s gospel, from basketball courts to tennis lawns to promote the newly revised All-Star shoes. He showcased the shoes during basketball clinics at high schools, colleges, and YMCAs. He taught fundamentals, demonstrated the shoe’s performance, and even distributed the Converse Basketball Yearbook, a promotional magazine he edited.His clinics reached thousands of players and coaches, building up a huge brand loyalty. By the 1930s, the All-Star dominated the basketball shoe market, producing 10,000 pairs of shoes a day.As a reward for his loyalty but also in recognition of his commitment to the company, in 1923, Converse added Taylor’s name to the All-Star, and by 1932, his signature appeared on the ankle patch, creating the Chuck Taylor All-Star. This Dear Reader was one of the first celebrity-endorsed athletic shoes, and a marketing milestone for the company. Chuck Taylor worked for Converse until his death in 1969, traveling tirelessly to promote the brand. By the 1960s, over 600 million Chuck Taylor All-Stars had been sold, making it a global icon.His influence extended beyond basketball, as the All-Star became a cultural staple in rock ‘n’ roll, punk, and street fashion by the 1950s–1960s.When Badminton is Your ThingIf you have one celebrity star representing your shoes that’s boosting sales, you might want to get another one. That someone was John (Jack) Edward Purcell was born on December 24, 1903, in Guelph, Ontario, Canada, to John Purcell Sr. and Mary Purcell.Growing in Canada, racquet sports like tennis and badminton shaped his early athletic pursuits.He was so good at the game, Jack Purcell became a world-class badminton player, dominating the sport in the 1920s and early 1930s. He won the Canadian Men’s Singles Badminton Championship multiple times (1924–1927, 1929–1930) and was ranked World No. 1 in 1932.Known for aggressive footwork and toe-dragging during serves, Purcell needed footwear with enhanced durability, particularly at the toe. In the early 1930s, Purcell, frustrated with the lack of durable footwear for badminton and tennis, collaborated with the B.F. Goodrich Company of Canada to design a shoe tailored for racquet sports.Marquis Converse took notice and in 1935, he acquired the rights to the Jack Purcell shoe from B.F. Goodrich, recognizing its potential to complement the All-Star in the racquet sports market. Converse rebranded it as the Converse Jack Purcell.Converse then marketed the shoe using Purcell’s name, targeting racquet sport athletes and leveraging his fame in Canada and beyond. Unlike Taylor, who joined Converse’s payroll and ran clinics, Purcell remained a namesake figure.Converse produced the Jack Purcell in its Malden, Massachusetts, factory, using the same canvas-and-rubber technology as the All-Star and earlier tennis shoes. By the 1930s, Converse’s output reached 10,000+ pairs daily, with the Jack Purcell as a niche but growing product.After World War II (1939–1945), Jack Purcell’s sneaker, with its sleek canvas and rubber toe, danced from badminton courts to city streets, echoing Converse’s timeless appeal.By the 1950s–1960s, it was a staple in Converse’s lineup, with millions of pairs sold over decades. And it stayed that way throughout the 1970’s. Oddly enough the shoe gained popularity among notable figures like James Dean, Steve McQueen, and later Kurt Cobain, which boosted its cultural cachet. This celebrity endorsement helped position the Jack Purcell as a fashionable, casual sneaker.A Life SaverCelebrities have their moments in time but eventually fade from the spotlight. But here’s the thing. It just doesn’t happen in Hollywood but in business too. And eventually, Converse’s ever so fashionable shoes began to diminish in popularity. The company faced significant challenges in the 1970s due to increased competition from Nike, Adidas, Reebok, and others. In dramatic turn of events, it lost its athletic shoe monopoly, and sales struggled as competitors introduced more advanced athletic footwear.The company was struggling to keep up with competitors. Let me put that a more blunt way … they were in dire straits. For five years they experienced declining sales and accumulating debt, leading to a critical financial situation.One so critical, their only choice was to file for bankruptcy in January 2001. Their reliance on domestic manufacturing, while competitors were moving production overseas, put them at a cost disadvantage. Following the bankruptcy filing, Converse closed its North American manufacturing plants and shifted production to Asia.And that’s when Nike came to the rescue. On September 4, 2003, Nike acquired Converse for $309 million. Nike kept the Jack Purcell line but modernized it with updates like Nike Zoom Air technology.Although skeptics deemed the purchase expensive at that time, it has turned out to be a bargain because today, annual sales are roughly $2.5 billion, which makes up half of Nike’s total revenues of $5.1 billion.As for their All-Star shoe, according to their vice president and general manager Geoff Cottrill the company sells “more than 270,000 pairs of Chuck Taylors a day, 365 days a year” totaling about 100 million Chucks a year.Marquis Converse’s story highlights Converse’s evolution from a regional rubber shoe maker to a global cultural icon through innovation, strategic acquisitions, and adaptability.As business builders or if you’re someone with an entrepreneurial spirit, there are lessons we can learn as here well:Lesson #1: Listen to Your Audience to Solve Real ProblemsChuck Taylor’s complaints about sore feet led to design improvements in the All-Star, transforming it into a market leader. Converse’s willingness to act on user feedback was pivotal to its success.Lesson #2: Leverage Partnerships and EndorsementsThe Chuck Taylor All-Star and Jack Purcell sneakers gained traction through celebrity endorsements and strategic partnerships (e.g., Chuck’s clinics and Purcell’s name). These boosted brand loyalty and cultural relevance.Lesson #3: Diversify Your Offerings to Stay CompetitiveThe acquisition of the Jack Purcell line allowed Converse to expand beyond basketball shoes into racquet sports and casual fashion, helping it stay relevant in a competitive market.Lesson #4: Adapt to Market ChangesConverse’s struggles in the 1970s stemmed from failing to keep pace with competitors’ innovations and cost efficiencies. Nike’s acquisition and modernization (e.g., Zoom Air in Jack Purcell shoes) revitalized the brand.Lesson #5: Turn Setbacks into OpportunitiesConverse’s 2001 bankruptcy was a low point, but Nike’s acquisition turned it into a growth opportunity, leveraging Converse’s heritage while modernizing its products.Lesson #6: Build a Legacy Through ConsistencyFrom Edward Convers’ mill to Marquis’s shoe empire to Chuck Taylor’s enduring legacy, Converse’s success came from consistent innovation and brand-building over generations.Amazing Quotes by Amazing People“Success is not the absence of obstacles, but the courage to push through them." — Joshua J. Marine Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

It is without a doubt and remains to this day, one of the most iconic images ever photographed — and possibly the most famous poster of all time.It certainly was the best-selling poster of all time.Of course I’m talking about Farrah Fawcett in her red swimsuit, photographed in 1976 by Bruce McBroom in her backyard.That poster sold over 12 million copies at $3 a pop, hauling in $36 million in sales. So you could say it was also a record breaker.Prior to Farrah’s poster, the most remembered one was Betty Grable’s World War II-era 1943 Pin-Up Poster. Betty posed in a white one-piece swimsuit, looking over her shoulder with a playful smile. The poster, which sold roughly 5 million copies was released by 20th Century Fox and became a cultural icon for American soldiers.The next highest ranking poster was Bo Derek’s “10” Poster released in 1979. The poster, tied to the film 10, features Bo Derek in a gold swimsuit with cornrows, running on a beach. Produced by Orion Pictures, the poster capitalized on Derek’s emergence as a sex symbol after the film’s release. While it’s difficult to find precise sales figures some sources suggest 5–8 million copies were sold in the late 1970s and early 1980s.Even though Farrah’s poster outsold all others, she made just $400,000.Why so little money?Well at the time the deal was made, Farrah was just gaining fame with the television show, Charlie’s Angels. She reportedly accepted a flat fee instead of negotiating royalties or a percentage of sales.That means most of the profits went to the poster company (Pro Arts Inc.) and her then-husband, Lee Major’s agent, who helped broker the deal.And that man is the centerpiece for today’s issue of Just One Good Idea. While he is known for managing Farrah’s poster deal and other licensing agreements including Farrah Fawcett Shampoo by Fabergé, what few people realize is that he invented a toy that not only became a cultural icon but also the world’s first “action figure.” So Dear Reader Let me introduce you to Stanley Alan Weinstein (later changed to Weston), born in Brooklyn New York on April 1, 1933.When War Interrupts Your CareerStanley’s father worked in the famous New York garment industry, and his mother was a homemaker and a jazz pianist.As a young boy, he loved comics and also seemed to display an early talent for business. In an interview about his early childhood, Stanley recalled,"When I was a kid, I used to sell my comics out of a milk crate. The other kids could buy them for 3 cents, or they could rent them for a penny. Kids would sit in front of my apartment in Brooklyn and read them."When Stanley was old enough, he applied to and was accepted into New York University with the goal of earning a master’s degree in business. But he had to put that on hold when he joined the Army to participate in the Korean War.The War started on June 25, 1950, when North Korean forces led by Kim Il-sung and equipped with Soviet tanks and artillery, invaded South Korea, capturing Seoul within days. For South Korea, the fight was under the direction of Syngman Rhee, supported by the United States and a UN coalition (including troops from 15 nations, e.g., UK, Canada, Australia).The U.S. and South Korean forces were initially overwhelmed, retreating to the Pusan Perimeter, a defensive line in southeast South Korea.But then General Douglas MacArthur, commanding UN forces, executed a daring amphibious landing at Inchon on September 15, 1950, recapturing Seoul and cutting North Korean supply lines. UN forces then pushed north, capturing Pyongyang (North Korea’s capital) by October.The U.S. Eighth Army and South Korean troops advanced toward the Yalu River, the border with China. China, fearing a U.S.-aligned Korea on its border, entered the war with 300,000–400,000 troops (People’s Volunteer Army). Their surprise offensive pushed UN forces back south of the 38th parallel, retaking Seoul by January 1951.By mid-1951, the front stabilized near the 38th parallel, leading to two years of trench warfare. Known battles like Heartbreak Ridge and Pork Chop Hill were costly but changed little territorially.Peace talks began in July 1951 but dragged on due to disputes over prisoner exchanges and borders.It was however after Joseph Stalin’s death and Eisenhower’s election, negotiations concluded with the Korean Armistice Agreement, signed at Panmunjom. The DMZ was established, and prisoners were exchanged under Operation Big Switch.The war ended with no clear victor, preserving the division of Korea into North and South. But it took it’s tole on all sides in the fight with causalities in the millions:* South Korea: - 137,000 military deaths, 450,000 wounded, and 1 million civilian deaths.* North Korea: - 215,000–350,000 military deaths, and 1–2 million civilian deaths.* China: -180,000–400,000 military deaths (thought estimates vary).* UN Forces: -36,000 U.S. deaths, - 103,000 wounded; other UN nations (e.g., UK, Canada) lost -3,000 combined.The war shaped post-WWII American patriotism, influencing media like MASH* (set in Korea) and other shows that drew on military heroism.It most definitely impacted Stanley Weston’s life and career. The war’s intense combat and harsh conditions (subzero winters) would have exposed him to the realities of military life. And that military exposure would later have a defining moment in his career.The Merchandising LifeYou see when he returned home to New York, he found a job with the advertising agency McCann Erickson and enrolled in night courses at New York University to finish his MBA, which he did sometime in 1956.At the agency, Stanley was involved with marketing and branding for different companies. That is also how he got involved in making licensing and merchandising deals.In fact he was so good at it, he left the agency to work with a firm that exclusively handled licensing for television shows, movies, athletes, and celebrities, including early clients like Twiggy.Remember Twiggy? Born Lesley Hornby on September 19, 1949, in Neasden, a suburb of London, England. As a teenager, she was known for her waif-like, petite frame (standing at 5’6” and weighing around 90 pounds). In fact it was her boyfriend and manager, Justin de Villeneuve (real name Nigel Davies), that gave her the nickname of Twiggy. He initially called her "Sticks" due to her skinny legs, but "Twiggy" was chosen as a catchier, more marketable name.In 1965, at age 16, she began modeling after being spotted by a hairdresser, Leonard of Mayfair, who gave her a distinctive short haircut that became her signature look. In truth it was a journalist from the Daily Express who wrote an article about her after seeing a photo of her new haircut, launching Twiggy into the spotlight. He named her “The Face of ’66.”It was early in her modeling career that Stanley secured deals for Twiggy including products like the 1967 Mattel Twiggy doll, mod clothing, and cosmetics. In reality, the Twiggy doll was a huge success, selling in the 500,000–1 million range from 1967–1969.His deals helped her earn roughly $500,000–$1.2 million and that doesn’t include the money she made as a top model. Another famous person that Stanley did deals for was Milton Supman otherwise known as Soupy Sales. His slapstick humor and pie-throwing gags made him a kids’ TV icon, with The Soupy Sales Show airing nationally (1960–1962) and in syndication (1964–1966).Stanley secured deals for merchandise like Soupy Sales lunchboxes (by Aladdin), trading cards, comic books (e.g., Dell Comics), records (e.g., “Pachalafaka”), and novelty toys (e.g., pie-throwing kits), sold at toy stores and five-and-dimes.If there’s one thing to say about Stanley, it’s that he most definitely had a knack for spotting pop culture trends.A Toy for BoysBy 1960, he founded his own merchandising company Weston Merchandising, which he later renamed as Leisure Concepts. He was handling clients like MGM, Universal, World Wrestling Federation, Nintendo and of course later on Farrah Fawcett.In 1967, he signed a 10-year agreement with the Major League Baseball Players Assn. for the likenesses of virtually every ballplayer in the National and American leagues.However before that deal, Stanley had his biggest breakthrough of all … creating a toy doll figure for boys.Remember, Stanley had a knack for spotting trends and one toy that was taking the country by storm was Mattel’s Barbie. (I wrote about Barbie several issues ago, but if you want to read the story, you can do so by clicking on the link below)Stanley thought that if a toy could sell that well for the little girls market, surely the same could happen for little boys. Drawing upon his experience in the Army but also from his many, many visits to Army-Navy surplus stores buying a variety of paraphernalia for each branch of the service. And from the dozen of military articles he read in Encyclopedia Britannica, Stanley came up with his one good idea - a poseable, military-themed action figure.So in 1963 Stanley Weston pitched his concept of a toy doll that would come dressed in military outfits to a toy manufacturing company called Hassenfeld Brothers. The company was founded in 1923 by three brothers - Henry, Hillel, and Herman Hassenfeld in Pawtucket, Rhode Island. (They later shortened the name to Hasbro Industries in 1968.)Don Levine who served as the company’s Vice President and Director of Marketing and Development, as well as a former Korean War vet absolutely loved the idea. Hasbro offered Stanley two options: (1) Get paid $50,000 up front and 1% royalty on G.I. Joe’s sales or (2) Get paid $100,000. Stanley took option number 2 and entered an agreement with Hasbro, which gave the company all the rights to Stanley’s “outfitted action figures.” That is equivalent to about $1 million today. This decision, while lucrative at the time, meant Weston missed out on the toy’s massive future profits.But Stanley was happy with the deal because he still had his licensing and merchandise business. And besides that his next big deal was just around the corner - a merchandising deal for ThunderCats.To jog your memory, ThunderCats was a science-fantasy series about humanoid cat people fleeing their dying planet, Thundera, to battle evil forces on Third Earth, a distant planet resembling a futuristic Earth. The story centered on themes of leadership, honor, and survival, with a mythical tone inspired by works like Masters of the Universe.Project RobotNow Don who became the lead on bringing Stanley’s action figure hero to life was also inspired by how Barbie captured the little girls market for dolls. And he wanted to make something similar.It also just happened that he noticed a wooden artist’s mannequin in a store window, sparking the idea for a highly articulated action figure that could mimic human poses. He led the development of the toy, ensuring the doll had 21 movable joints, a groundbreaking feature at the time.He then hired Massachusetts-based sculptor, Phillip Kraczkowski to design the head for the figure for $600 (about $5,700 today). Don requested a “young, good-looking American man” to represent the armed forces. A distinctive facial scar was added to deter knockoffs, and some speculate the head subconsciously resembled John F. Kennedy due to Kraczkowski’s prior work on a Kennedy medal.The Hassenfeld brothers were taking a significant risk on producing the action figure doll because nothing like it existed before. They invested millions in production including streamlining the process for making the doll’s outfits. With so much money at stake, they didn’t want to a chance on other toy makers finding out what they were doing so they codenamed the project “Robot” to maintain secrecy. To avoid the “doll” stigma, which seem too feminine for what they were creating, the Hassenfeld’s coined the term “action figure,” creating a new toy category altogether.The initial line included four figures—Action Soldier, Action Sailor, Action Pilot, and Action Marine. They named the figures G.I. Joe after “government issued,” a stand phrase in the military.The first G.I. Joe launched February 1, 1964, leaning into the post-World War II patriotism. Needless to say G.I. Joe was a massive hit upon release. In its first year, Hasbro sold over 300,000 units, generating $16.9 million in sales. By 1965, sales reached $36.5 million, accounting for nearly 66% of Hasbro’s profits. The toy’s high-quality articulation, detailed accessories, and appeal to Cold War-era patriotism drove its popularity, resonating with families who had veterans at home. Accessories like the Deep Sea Diver, Jeep, and Space Capsule sets fueled sales even higher.But when your sales skyrocket quickly, sometimes a thing comes along and squashes everything. And the thing that came along was the growing anti-Vietnam War sentiment. This led to a backlash and protests against war toys, with slogans like “Toy Fair or War Fare?”Retailers like Sears dropped military toys, causing sales to falter. And things just getting worse for poor Joe. Hasbro tried to rebranded G.I. Joe in 1969 as the “Adventures of G.I. Joe,” shifting from military to adventure themes like deep-sea diving and environmental rescue. In 1970, the line became the “Adventure Team,” with features like flocked hair, movable eyes, and “Kung-Fu Grip.” Despite innovations, sales continued to decline due to changing social attitudes and the 1970s oil crisis, which increased plastic costs. A 1976 attempt to pivot to a sci-fi “Super Joe” line (8 inches) failed, and by 1978, G.I. Joe was discontinued.A Revival in The MakingInspired by the success of that toy maker Kenner had with their .3.75-inch Star Wars figures, Hasbro relaunched G.I. Joe in 1982 as “A Real American Hero.”The new 3.75-inch figures, designed by Ron Rudat, featured enhanced movement (e.g., swivel-arm battle grip) and competed directly with Star Wars toys. The line introduced a narrative of G.I. Joe as an elite counter-terrorist team fighting Cobra, a terrorist organization, with characters like Snake Eyes, Scarlett, and Cobra Commander, crafted by Marvel Comics writer Larry Hama. Hama’s even included detailed “file cards” and comics gave each figure a unique backstory, boosting engagement.And to cement the toy’s future success, in 1983 animated series was created. The show, produced by Marvel and Sunbow Productions with writer Ron Friedman’s iconic “Yo Joe!” catchphrase, hooked kids through a five-part miniseries, leading to a full series in 1985. The Cobra Commander figure, available only via mail-order with “Flag Points,” received over 125,000 orders … amazing when the company only expected to sell 5,000. Between 1982 and 1994, the line produced over 500 figures and 250 vehicles, becoming one of Hasbro’s best-selling lines.By 2004, Hasbro had sold over 400 million figures, and by 2014, over 375 million. The toy line has been inducted into the National Toy Hall of Fame (2004) and Pop Culture Hall of Fame. Its influence extends to comics, cartoons, video games, and films like G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra (2009).In the first two years after its release, the new G.I. Joe line contributed significantly to Hasbro's revenue, accounting for two-thirds of their income. Today Hasbro generates revenues of over $4 billion with the G.I. Joe franchise estimated to be worth $100 million. Hasbro is the third ranking toy maker, with Mattel coming at number two and Lego at number one.Stanley Weston, a Korean War veteran and advertising professional, revolutionized the toy industry with his creation of G.I. Joe, the world’s first “action figure.” But in some ways, you could say that glory faded because his name is barley mentioned as the man behind the toy soldier. Other people took credit for the invention and shared handsomely in the profits.As for Weston’s flat-fee deal, that meant he missed out on royalties, a recurring theme in his career. His financial gains were tempered by short-term deals; unlike the sustained wealth of franchises he helped build.Weston’s legacy, marked by his 2017 death and a net worth estimated at $10–$20 million, is bittersweet: a licensing pioneer who created billion-dollar properties but reaped only a fraction of their value, while leaving an indelible mark on pop culture.Amazing Quotes by Amazing People"Innovation distinguishes between a leader and a follower." - Steve Jobs Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Editor’s Note: I’m continuing with what I did last week for the podcast edition of Just One Good Idea. I tell you the story behind the story … how I stumbled up it and the juicy bits of details that made the story fun to research and read.Scientists say it’s hard to estimate the actual number that exists because of limited global surveys and the fact that many remain underground, undiscovered or undocumented, particularly in remote or offshore regions.What is it scientist struggle to find?The answer is salt domes. Yes, Dear Reader those rather large mounds (and sometimes mountains) of salt that everyone can’t stop talking about … well not really. But they do matter to this story an awful lot.Exactly what are salt domes? They are geological formations that take place over millions of years in sedimentary basins where ancient seas or lakes evaporated, leaving behind thick salt deposits.Under pressure from the weight of overlying sediments such as sandstone or shale, the salt begins to flow upward, piercing through the denser rock layers. This creates a dome-shaped structure, often several miles wide and thousands of feet tall.Scientists say it’s hard to estimate the actual number that exists because of limited global surveys and the fact that many remain underground, undiscovered or undocumented, particularly in remote or offshore regions.But here’s what we do know. Salt domes exist in Northwest Europe, particularly in Germany; in the Middle East along the Iraq-Iran-Arabian Peninsula region; and in the Barents Sea (Norway), the Mediterranean, the Red Sea, and parts of Africa.You’ll also find them in the Gulf of Mexico region, particularly Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama. In fact this is one of the most studied areas for salt domes. Over 600 salt domes have been identified in this region alone, with 263 known or suspected.Some are located on islands. The domes located in the Iberia Parish, Louisiana, are some of the largest. Native Americans first discovered the salt dome thousands of years ago, extracting the salt by boiling it in briny spring water. By 1779, French explorers noted the "so-called isle" near Bayou Petite Anse (meaning "Little Cove" in Cajun French), and named it Île Petite Anse.John Craig Marsh knew the potential Île Petite Anse offered him for business, especially because of those salt domes. So he purchased the island in 1818 for $8,000 (based on today’s dollar rate that amount would be equal to $201,448).At the time, the island was part of Spanish Louisiana, transitioning to American control after the Louisiana Purchase in 1803. The purchase marked the beginning of the Marsh family’s significant influence on the island’s development or more precisely … mining the salt.John Craig Marsh married Eliza Ann Baldwin, and they had one daughter, Sarah Craig Marsh, born in 1818 the year he purchased the island.Now while the Marsh family lived in New York, they ran their salt business on the island through different agents and reps in Louisiana. And most times when you are running a business, you’re going to need some legal help.Who better than represent you than one of Louisiana’s most prominent lawyers than Daniel Dudley Avery. Daniel was not only a Yale educated lawyer but a judge and was twice elected to the state legislature.And with Daniel aiding John Marsh with his salt business in Louisiana, it’s also more than likely that’s how Daniel met John’s daughter Sarah, the heiress to the island.Sarah Craig Marsh and Daniel Dudley Avery married in 1837, though the exact day and location are not well-documented in available sources. But we do know they resettled to Louisiana to focus on the salt extraction business that her father had started. Since they were sole purveyors of mining the salt domes on the island, it was just a matter of time before the name changed from Île Petite Anse to Avery Island. An Interruption of the War KindWhile Sarah and Daniel stayed busying growing the business, they were also growing a family of their own. Daniel Dudley Avery and Sarah Craig Marsh had a total of five children:· Mary Eliza Avery (1838–1915).· Sarah Marsh Avery (1840–1918).· Dudley Avery (1842–1917).· John Marsh Avery (1844–1891).· Margaret Henshaw Avery (1848–1925).You’d expect that all of their children would stay involved in the family business and most did except Sarah who after marrying Paul Leeds moved away from Avery Island. The same happened with Margaret, who after marrying William Preston Johnston, focused more on social circles outside the island’s commercial activities.But it was Dudley Avery and Mary, who stayed involved with the family’s business … one that was about to undergo a change that would turn their company into icon and creating one of the most popular brands of sauces.That turn around happened because of one man - Edmund McIlhenny. His father was the mayor of Hagerstown. And some records indicate they he might owned a tavern. In 1841, after the death of his father and at the age of 26, Edmund moved to New Orleans.Edmund began his career in banking, likely starting as a clerk or junior officer in a financial institution. Sometime in 1840, he moved to New Orleans, which at the time was growing a major economic hub. His skills in finance and business acumen likely earned him a reputation, allowing him to quickly climb the ranks so to speak.It also allowed him to acquire a small fortune of his own. That’s because New Orleans was a center for cotton, sugar, and international trade, and bankers often profited by financing plantations, merchants, and shipping ventures.Edmund might also have invested personal funds or leveraged loans to acquire stakes in profitable enterprises, a common practice for ambitious bankers back then.With money and a rising business reputation, you start mingling with people of higher social classes. That’s most likely how Edmund met Mary Eliza Avery. In 1859 the two married in what would have been considered a substantial social event of the year.However just two years after their marriage, the world they knew turned upside down. That turn around happened at 4:30 a.m. on April 12, 1861, when Confederate troops fired on Fort Sumter in South Carolina's Charleston Harbor. Less than 34 hours later, Union forces surrendered. That Dear Reader was the beginning of the Civil War.Avery Island’s strategic salt deposits, vital for both civilian and military use, made it a perfect military target. As the Union Army advanced toward the island, Edmund McIlhenny with his wife, his in-laws, the rest of the Avery family, fled to Brenham, Texas, staying at the home of a McIlhenny cousin, in the spring of 1863.Edmund took up work with the military where he served as a civilian employee of the Confederate army, first as a clerk in a commissary office, then as a financial agent for the paymaster.The families stayed in Texas only returning to Avery Island in late 1865, after the war finally ended. But when they returned back home, they found the plantation torn apart by an 1863 Union raid, with their fields destroyed.It wasn’t just their family that suffered from the after affects of the War. The South's economic collapse after its defeat ruined many families who had to start all over again. The Averie’s and Edmund McIlhenny would have to do the same.A Banker with Hot Taste BudsAs they settled in back home on their plantation, Edmund took up the hobby of gardening. Actually it wasn’t really his hobby. With the plantation’s fields largely unproductive, Edmund began cultivating a small kitchen garden to feed the families.He grew a variety of fruits and vegetables, including tomatoes, okra, beans, and sweet potatoes. He also grew of all things - Capsicum frutescens peppers, which were native to Mexico. It’s said that he got the seeds for the peppers from a returning soldier who had been in Mexico, possibly around the late 1840s or early 1850s before the war started.The peppers’ resilience and the island’s warm, humid conditions—mirroring their native habitat—allowed them to thrive. The plants, growing up to three feet tall, produced clusters of small, tapered pods that transitioned from pale yellow green to vibrant red. This process took about 80-90 days from germination.By 1868, Edmund McIlhenny’s interest in the peppers evolved beyond mere cultivation. The blandness of Reconstruction-era Southern cuisine, coupled with his own taste for bold flavors, inspired him to experiment with the peppers.One experiment that turned out highly successful was when he mashed the ripe red pods with salt, which of course was abundant on Avery Island and aged the mixture (in wooden barrels) possibly for a month, before blending it with vinegar.The peppers’ heat (30,000-50,000 Scoville units) and smoky flavor gave his new concoction the perfect taste - with just the right amount of “hotness.”Having produced the ideal batch of his hot sauce, Edmund bottled his first commercial batch that year, selling it in small cologne bottles with a cork-top and diamond logo labels, marking the birth of the McIlhenny Company.Initially he preferred to call his sauce, Petite Anse Sauce (original name of Avery Island) but family members disagreed. So then he choose to call it Tabasco - the American Indian word meaning "land where soil is hot and humid.” At first Edmund sold the product mainly along the Gulf Coast in places like New Orleans, New Iberia, Louisiana, and Galveston. Yet it didn’t take long for Edmund McIlhenny’s sauce to gain in popularity. By 1869, he had sold 658 bottles for $1 each. By 1870, he patented the recipe and began distributing it widely.Sometime in 1870, Edmund passed some of the sauce on to General Hazzard, the former federal administrator for the region, whose distant cousin E.C. Hazzard in New York City, was at the time the largest wholesale grocer in the United States.That connection helped Edmund’s Tabasco Sauce be distributed through E.C. Hazzards wholesale business. Described as a sauce from a new type of chili pepper and based on the number of new purchase orders that followed, his sauce was now in larger markets such as New York City, Philadelphia, and Boston.They even sent the sauce to London, where demand skyrocketed. In 1872, McIlhenny established a London office to meet the heavy demands of the European market for Tabasco sauce.A Family Business We Will BeBy 1879, Edmund’s son Edward stepped in to run the business, which operated under the name E. McIlhenny & Sons. Edward renamed the firm McIlhenny Company and began to expand, modernize, and standardized sauce production.He also experimented with new ways of promoting the world-famous product, such as advertising on radio and in newspapers.Edmund McIlhenny’s grandson Walter Stauffer McIlhenny also joined in on the family business. He was a decorated marine during World War II and remembered the bland rations that he and his fellow soldiers had lived on. So he began marketing the sauce directly to the military.He did that in 1966 by publishing The Charlie Ration Cookbook; or, No Food Is Too Good for the Man Up Front, a pocket-sized guidebook for soldiers wanting to spice up their rations that came with a two-ounce bottle of Tabasco sauce in a camouflaged waterproof canister. Beginning in 1990 a one-eighth-ounce bottle of Tabasco sauce was packaged with every third U.S. military MRE (Meal, Ready-to-Eat). “Your product has always been in demand by troops in the field,” wrote General Norman Schwarzkopf, commander of the coalition forces in the Persian Gulf War (1990–91), in a 1991 letter to McIlhenny Company.Today Tabasco sauce remains a staple condiment around the world, labeled in more than 35 languages and dialects. It is especially popular in Japan, which is the largest market for the sauce after the United States.The company sells approximately 700,000 bottles of hot sauce every day, which translates to about 255 million bottles per year. The company also reported about $200 million in revenue from sales of the sauce.A Billion Dollar Sauce LegacyThe McIlhenny Company is currently valued between $2 and $3 billion. And it is still family owned and operated.Edmund McIlhenny died in 1890, and apparently did not consider his creation of Tabasco sauce to have been a particularly notable accomplishment. He made no mention of Tabasco sauce in an autobiographical sketch composed toward the end of his life, nor was it mentioned in his obituaries.Know one quite knows why he never saw the creation of his sauce as a major endeavor. At least I couldn’t find any documents or articles that stated why he chose to not to talk about his famous sauce.Regardless, his successors, sons John Avery McIlhenny and Edward Avery McIlhenny, realized that their father had created a foundation on which they could build a larger family business, and they shortly expanded and modernized the manufacturing process.By the turn of the twentieth century, McIlhenny's invention could be found on tables worldwide, and it has since become a culinary favorite. Today each carton of Tabasco sauce bears a facsimile of McIlhenny's signature.Edmund’s vision was simple yet revolutionary: to craft a fiery sauce that would awaken the senses. By 1868, he perfected a recipe using just three ingredients—tabasco peppers, salt, and vinegar—aging the mash in oak barrels to create a pungent, vibrant condiment.Edmund McIlhenny’s grit and ingenuity laid the foundation for an enduring legacy and is a testament to his unwavering resolve to turn adversity into a fiery triumph that continues to inspire bold dreamers.Amazing Quotes by Amazing People"Tabasco sauce is to bachelor cooking what forgiveness is to sin." - P.J. O'Rourke Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Editor’s Note: Today I did something a little different for the podcast version of the story. This time I tell you the story behind the story. In other words, I share with you how I uncovered the story and why I choose to write about it. I think you’ll find it interesting. And the full version of the story is below. The mixture had a strong, noxious petroleum odor, dominated by the volatile, sharp notes of gasoline.The overall smell would be intense and downright unpleasant, potentially causing irritation to your nose and throat if inhaled.Now imagine adding a bit of sand to this home-made concoction that was once used to wash your hands.Especially the hands of industrial workers who operated heavy machinery, maintaining oil rig equipment and boilers and prepping and painting large commercial buildings.Not only could it make your nose and throat irritated but could severely damage your skin. That’s because kerosene is a petroleum-based solvent that can dissolve natural oils found in the outermost layer of the skin. This leads to dryness, irritation, and potential dermatitis.Gasoline is even more aggressive due to its lighter hydrocarbons and additives (e.g., benzene, toluene, or xylene). It acts as a powerful solvent, stripping the skin’s natural oils and causing immediate irritation, redness, and a burning sensation.Since sand is abrasive, especially when rubbed against the skin, it would act like a harsh exfoliant, causing sore and tender abrasions.This all sounds nasty but that’s pretty much the way workers washed the grit, grease and oil from their hands in the early late 1800’s to early 1900s. Bars of soap as we know it didn’t exactly exist back then.Thankfully John T. Robertson figured out how to do away with these homemade hand cleansers and developed a "mineral soap" in Glastonbury, U.K. in 1885.Mr. Robertson set up a manufacturing business known as the Orford Soap Company that produced the feldspar (a rock-based mineral) based cleaner, which he called “Bon Ami” - the French words for good friend.Once considered a waste material, feldspar was found to shine the shovels of quarry workers paid to separate it from silica quartz. Silica quartz-based cleaners scratch things clean, while softer feldspar-based Bon Ami polishes clean without scratching.But John wasn’t the only one creating soap-based products to clean those dirty hands. New types of soaps were being created here in the U.S. too … like powered soaps.A Soap for You, A Soap for MeRowlesburg is quaint small town located in West Virginia, which sits near the Cheat River. There are about 51 commercial buildings with many that are two story, framed and masonry, dating from about 1900 to 1950.It was a former railroad town. It was where James Rowles, Chief Engineer of the B & O Railroad opened one of the first field offices. In fact the town is named after him.Besides its railroad history, there’s not much more to the town except for its hiking along the Allegheny Trail that passes through the Allegheny Mountains in West Virginia, and into part of western Virginia.But it’s here in this town that native born Samuel McVicker set up his little farm along with his wife Susan Ann McVicker. Together they had eight children: Gladys, George, Cleophas, Frankie, Fernie, Rosie, Izetta, and Donald.Maybe because he had an unusual name that might explain why Cleophas decided he didn’t want to follow his father’s footsteps and be a farmer. Although he did help out on the farm as a child, at age 16, he took up boxing.I can’t tell you how good of a boxer he might have been, but he did manage to tour the country under the direction of a boxing promoter.But that’s not what he really wants to do either. After a short-lived boxing career, Cleo moved to Cincinnati Ohio, where he began working with Precision Metal Workers. The company was metal fabrication shop, which typically involves processes like machining, welding, or sheet metal fabrication.At the time, they happened to own another small company - Kutol Products.Kutol was originally founded in Louisville, Kentucky in 1912 and of all the things it sold was good old fashioned powdered hand cleaners that were made most likely of flour-based with abrasives like pumice.However just a few years after opening, the company relocated to Cincinnati, Ohio - at the time considered a major manufacturing hub. This move gave them access to more resources, which helped them improve their manufacturing capacity of heavy duty powered hand cleaning products.But they weren’t the only ones making cleaners. Several other companies were manufacturing hand cleaners including GOJO Industries founded in 1946 in Akron Ohio. The company is famous for creating Purcell hand sanitizer.Other well-known brands included Henkel Industries, established in 1876 and famous for Persil. And then of course there’s the giant of them all, Proctor and Gamble famous for what they first called “white soap,” now known as Ivory Soap.With so many cleaning manufacturers making their way onto the marketplace, it’s inevitable that some will struggle, while others survive. Kutol Products was one of those companies fighting to stay alive.In fact things were so bad that executives of Precision Metal Workers made the decision to send Cleo McVicker to Ohio to begin the process of liquidating Kutol Products.Clean Soap, Dirty WallsBut he did something completely opposite … he reorganized the company. And he invited his younger brother Noah to join him in working at Kutol Products.While Cleo was more of a strategic thinker, Noah leaned toward being an inventor. Together the two brothers concentrated their efforts on developing cleaning products for a new market - households.Why houses instead of hands? Well, you see back in the late 1920s, houses were mostly heated by coal.While it kept homes warm, coal heating produced soot that stained delicate, wallpapers that were popular back then. Traditional cleaning methods were inadequate because they caused easily create tear marks in the paper and didn’t thoroughly clean the walls.But there’s another reason they focused on cleaners for wallpaper. In 1933, during a meeting with Kroger grocery store representatives, Cleo McVicker learned they were seeking a wallpaper cleaner to sell in their stores, as customers were asking about a product to remove coal soot from wallpaper.Despite the brothers having no prior experience making wallpaper cleaner, Cleo promised Kroger that the company could produce it. So Kutol and Kroger signed a contract, and placed an order for 15,000 cases, with a $5,000 penalty (equivalent to ~$90,000 today) if Kutol failed to deliver on time—a risk that could have bankrupted the company.Noah McVicker got to work right away developing the cleaner. Using what he knew about powered based hand cleansers, Noah formulated a pliable, putty-like compound using a common recipe of the time - primarily flour, water, salt, and possibly borax. The cleaner he developed could be gently rolled across the wallpaper while lifting the soot without damaging it.The cleaner was non-toxic, malleable, and off-white, designed especially to absorb grime effectively. And most of it … it worked!The brothers successfully delivered the required number of cases with no penalty. That single deal “kept the company alive,” providing a much needed financial lifeline.The brother’s cleaner was sold in Kroger stores, across the Midwest and potentially nationwide, as Kroger’s growing footprint of stores continued to skyrocket. In fact by 1930s, Kroger had over 5,000 locations. This gave Kutol access to a broad consumer base, elevating its brand from a local soap manufacturer to a recognized name in household cleaning.Things were going well for Kutol Products, so much so that Cleo’s son Joseph joined the company. Looking for a salesman to help the company further expand their business, Joseph asked his good friend Bill Rhodenbaugh to come on board as a salesman.It was perfect timing because Bill had just returned from the Korean War and was looking for a full-time job. Bill was a critical hire for the Kutol company because he helped it expand their offering from wallpaper cleaner to powdered hand soaps and waterless cleaner for wood.Kutol became the largest manufacturer of wallpaper cleaning and cleaning products in the world.Technology Changes EverythingClayton Christensen popularized the phrase, “disruptive technology reshapes industries,” in his 1997 book The Innovator’s Dilemma.And in the late 1940s to early 1950's, coal heating was being replaced by oil, gas, and electricity. So soot on wallpaper form coal burning wasn’t as big of a problem as it had been.Not only that but advancements in wallpapers were made including washable vinyl wallpapers, which reduced the demand for Kutol’s flagship product - wallpaper cleaner.As you can guess, this caused severe financial troubles for Kutol, as the company relied heavily on the cleaner’s success from the 1933 Kroger deal. Some sources say that by the early 1950s, Kutol was “on the brink of collapse.”The brothers must have felt defeated. After all that hard work and success, here they are staring failure in its face. But Dear Reader sometimes in life, things happen when they are supposed to at the right time and right place. And Kutol was about to experience their “right time and right place” moment.While the McVickers were desperately looking for a new product to turn sales around, they had no idea that the same product created for cleaning wallpaper would be the one that changed their fortunes and history.See what they didn’t know was that teachers were buying the cleaner from Kroger stores and then letting the kids in their classrooms play with it during art time. After all it was non-toxic, so it was harmless to the children. It was also pliable, which allowed the children to mold it into different shapes.Kutol’s pivotal moment came in 1954 when Kay Zufall, a nursery schoolteacher herself and sister-in-law of Joe McVicker read a story in a magazine about how school children were using a flour-based wallpaper cleaner for art projects.Kay immediately recognized the children were playing with Kutol’s wallpaper cleaner. So she called Joe and suggested that maybe the company should consider reformulating the cleaner into a toy for children.Joe reformulated the cleaner by removing detergents, adding scent and colors. Now all they had to do was come up with a name for this newly created pliable molding toy made for children.Since had developed different colors for it, he suggested they call it Rainbow Modeling Compound. But it was rejected by other members of the McVickers family.Then Kay and her husband Bob started brainstorming for a name. I can’t tell you how many different names they came up with or how long it took, but eventually the settled on one that seemed to encompass everything the modeling compound offered children: play time fun with a dough like substance = Play-Doh.Kutol then created a subsidiary company named from what Joe had suggested for the modeling clay, Rainbow Crafts. Then they began marketing Play-Doh to schools, starting with Cincinnati-area institutions in 1955.In 1956, Play-Doh was introduced at the American International Toy Fair in New York and distributed to schools and retailers such as Macy’s and Marshall Field’s.Since Play-Doh was priced relatively low at $1–$2 per can, it didn’t take long for it to become a best seller. In fact by 1958, Rainbow Crafts reported selling over 900,000 cans annually, with sales reaching $3 million ($30 million today).And the success continued. Play-Doh expanded internationally in the 1960s, reaching markets in Europe, Canada, and Australia. The company also introduced more colors and accessories like molds and extruders (e.g., the Fun Factory).By 1964, Rainbow Crafts was shipping more than one million cans of Play-Doh per year. Suffice it to say, Play-Doh became a staple in American households and classrooms, synonymous with childhood creativity and fun.When Everybody Wants What You HaveWhen a business is highly successful, they usually get bought out by another highly successful company. And that’s what happened to Rainbow crafts.Rainbow Crafts was sold to General Mills in 1965 for $3 million. Kutol, while no longer directly managing Play-Doh through Rainbow Crafts, benefited from the sale, which helped stabilized the company post-1950s struggles.Then in 1967 General Mills bought Kenner Parker Toys, which made action figures for original series such as Star Wars, Batman, and Jurassic Park. After that, General Mills merged Rainbow Crafts into Kenner Toys.In 1987, The Tonka Corporation purchased Kenner Toys for $555 million. However, the debt incurred from the acquisition, coupled with a lack of new product successes, ultimately led to Tonka being acquired by Hasbro in 1991 for roughly $516 million. The price included the acquisition of all outstanding securities, along with the assumption of Tonka's long-term debt.As for Play-Doh, it’s still a highly valued and sought after toy for kids. It is estimated that since the product was officially introduced in 1955, more than three billion cans of Play-Doh have been sold worldwide.While precise annual sales figures are not readily available in the public domain, it's estimated that Play-Doh sells over 100 million cans annually worldwide. Hasbro reports that Play-Doh is one of their most popular brands.A Lasting Legacy As for Cleo and Noah … sadly, Cleo McVicker died in a plane crash in 1949. So he never saw the huge success of Play-Doh. Noah eventually retired from the business and living the remaining years of his life at home in Tennessee. He died on June 9, 1980.Yet their journey from crafting a practical cleaner to unleashing a creative phenomenon shows that challenges can spark unexpected breakthroughs.This story offers valuable lessons for anyone facing setbacks or shifting markets. First, embrace adaptability: the McVickers didn’t cling to their failing cleaner but reimagined it for a new purpose, much like businesses today must pivot to survive disruption.Second, they willingly listened to unexpected voices: Kay Zufall, a teacher, not a corporate executive, saw the potential in a struggling product, proving that innovation can come from outside traditional channels.Finally, sometimes it pays to take calculated risks: Cleo’s gamble on the Kroger deal, despite a $5,000 penalty risk, shows that bold moves can yield transformative rewards.Whether you’re an entrepreneur, artist, or dreamer, Play-Doh’s story inspires us to find opportunity in adversity, reframe challenges as possibilities, and create something timeless from the simplest ingredients.Amazing Quotes by Amazing People“We are all born with a unique genetic blueprint, which lays out the basic characteristics of our personality as well as our physical health and appearance... And yet, we all have the power to shape our own destiny.” - J.K Rowling Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Editor’s Note: As usual, if you’d like to read the full story, with all the rich details then just click on the link down at the bottom of this episode recap.📝 Episode Summary:Before there was a pink bunny with sunglasses, there was a brilliant inventor with a burnout problem… and a wire salesman with perfect timing. In this episode, we take you from the backstreets of Brooklyn to the labs of innovation, into the trenches of WWII, and all the way to the moon — with detours into advertising history, trademark mishaps, and one of the most iconic mascots ever created.This isn’t just a story about a durable battery — it’s about the unlikely duo who powered a global brand, the campaign that made batteries adorable, and how one forgotten trademark turned into an advertising war for the ages.🧠 And yes… you might never look at a stuffed bunny the same way again.🔑 Key Takeaways:🧪 1. Genius Begins with Grit — and Ham RadiosSamuel Ruben’s early fascination with ham radios and electrochemistry eventually led to over 300 patents — but only after dropping out of college and finding an unlikely mentor in a Columbia physicist.⚙️ 2. The Perfect PartnershipRuben met wire manufacturer Phillip Mallory in 1923 — and together, they created the innovations that would later power everything from walkie-talkies to cameras to space missions.📦 Their first big breakthrough? A mercury battery that literally saved military lives during WWII.📷 3. Kodak, Cameras, and CapitalismThe Kodak Brownie Starflash (the first built-in-flash camera) needed small, powerful batteries. Ruben delivered — helping Duracell produce millions of AAA alkaline batteries… and solidifying their commercial dominance.🌕 4. Powered by the MoonDuracell batteries played a critical role in the Apollo 11 mission, powering the device that mapped moonquakes from Tranquility Base. Take that, Eveready.📉 5. Recession-Proof BrillianceIn the middle of a 1973 economic downturn, while other companies flailed, Duracell soared — pulling in up to $300 million in sales thanks to long-lasting alkaline tech.🐰 6. The Birth of the BunnyAd agency Dancer, Fitzgerald and Sample leaned into “Kawaii culture” to create a pink toy bunny that outlasted all others — powered, of course, by Duracell. The drumming bunny was an instant hit.😬 7. The $350 Trademark MistakeOne missed trademark renewal later… and Energizer swooped in, spoofed the Duracell bunny, and walked away with U.S. mascot rights.🧾 Yes, $350 was all it would’ve cost to keep the most memorable battery mascot in history. Ouch.🤝 8. The Bunny TruceA hush-hush “Bunny Summit” in 1992 led to an agreement: Energizer owned U.S. rights, Duracell kept global ones. And so began two decades of bunny-based brand battles.📈 9. Legacy of PowerDuracell’s influence spans from consumer electronics to medical devices, moon missions to marketing textbooks. Acquired by Berkshire Hathaway in 2016 with a value of $4 billion, the company now dominates generating $2.4 billion in annual sales.📣 Quotes to Remember:“If there’s a battery problem to be solved, leave it to Samuel Ruben.”“Duracell didn’t just light up devices — they lit up lives.”“It’s not just a battery. It’s a legacy... with ears.”To read the full issue, just click below: Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Editor’s Note: If you’d like to read the full issue of the newsletter, just click on the link at the end of this post.📄 Episode Show Notes:In this episode, we explore the gripping and unexpectedly almost comical like backstory of one of the most underrated inventions of the 20th century: WD-40. From Cold War rocket labs to flooded pickup trucks, and from jungle war zones to guitar shops, this little blue-and-yellow can has had quite the journey.And that journey began in a little lab in California … with just three employees. But they managed to create the perfect product for NASA without knowing it would morph into a household name.You’ll hear how:* A self-taught chemist named Norman Larsen failed 39 times before creating the 40th formula that changed everything* The first users of WD-40 were rocket engineers who smuggled it home in their lunchboxes* A hurricane, a jungle war, and a cow ointment all helped make WD-40 a household name* The company survived fallouts, rivalries, and resisted every urge to diversify — by sticking to one can, one mission* And why, to this day, the exact formula is locked in a literal vault. 🔒🔍 What’s Else is Inside This Episode (and details you’ll read in the newsletter):* 🚀 The Space Race’s unexpected effect on anti-rust innovation* 🧪 The magic of Water Displacement #40* 🔧 How WD-40 went from toolboxes to trenches (yes, even Vietnam!)* 💼 The marketing masterstroke of not marketing* 🌪️ The hurricane that made it go viral — before viral was even a thing* 🐄 The cow udder cream side hustle you didn’t see coming💡 Key Takeaways:* Persistence wins. The WD-40 formula succeeded on the 40th try — because they kept going.* Focus scales. The company made just one product for decades — and turned it into a $600M empire.* Solve one real problem well. Rust was the enemy; everything else followed.* Don’t over-brand. Simplicity and utility created organic word-of-mouth success.* Your biggest success might come from a side project. WD-40 was never meant to go public — rocket scientists just wanted to keep their metal parts intact.✨ Bonus Facts You’ll Hear When You Read the Newsletter:* Why NASA couldn’t publicly endorse WD-40 (even though they loved it)* The business naming decision that baffles MBAs to this day* Why a formula designed for rockets is now in nearly 80% of U.S. homes* And how a guy who hated rust ended up creating both a market leader and his own competitorAnd remember… WD-40: it’s not just a can. It’s a character in the weirdest, rustiest sitcom you’ve never watched.If you’d like to read the issue with all the rich details, just click below. Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Editor’s Note: If you’d prefer to read the newsletter version of this story, complete with rich details and history, just click on the link at the bottom. And let me know your feedback on whether you prefer podcast of the regular version of the newsletter.In this episode, we dive into the extraordinary journey of Emily Weiss, the visionary who turned her curiosity and blog—Into the Gloss—into Glossier, one of the most iconic beauty brands of the 21st century. From a solo passion project to a unicorn startup valued at $1.2 billion, this is a story of listening to customers, building community, and daring to rethink an entire industry.🔍 What started with a simple question—“What do real women actually use?”—sparked a movement that upended traditional beauty models and built a loyal fanbase through authenticity, minimalism, and millennial pink.📌 What You’ll Learn in This Episode:* How Emily Weiss used The Hills, Teen Vogue, and early career internships to build insider knowledge* Why Into the Gloss became the go-to source for real beauty advice* How Glossier used comments, community, and content to co-create products* The viral rise of cult classics like Boy Brow, Cloud Paint, and Balm Dotcom* Why the brand’s tech pivot almost derailed the company—and how they rebounded* What stepping down as CEO taught Emily about leadership* The power of retail relaunches and the $100M Sephora expansion* How Glossier kept growing during crisis—and what comes next💡 Key Takeaways:* Start by listening. The best product ideas often come from your audience.* Don’t be afraid to fail publicly. Glossier’s missteps became part of its evolution.* Community > advertising. Glossier’s fans were also its marketers, co-creators, and ambassadors.* Step aside when needed. Great founders know when someone else can take the brand further.* Legacy is built on relationships. Glossier succeeded by treating customers like co-founders.If you’d like to read the full story of Emily and how she built Glossier into a billion-dollar brand, just click on the link below. Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

Ever wondered how a tiny 10x10 foot restaurant stand blossomed into a beloved nationwide chain with hundreds of locations? Dive into the incredible story of Harry and Esther Snyder, the couple behind the iconic In-N-Out Burger. From Harry's time in the Navy to their humble beginnings, discover the drive, dedication, and unique approach that built a $4 billion family empire.The Origin Story:* Introduction to the fascinating tale of In-N-Out Burger's founding.* Initial scale: A small 10-by-10 foot restaurant stand.* The remarkable growth into a nationwide chain with 416 locations across the U.S.A Painful Detour: Perforated Eardrums* A brief explanation of how a perforated eardrum can occur (middle ear infection, barotrauma, loud sounds, foreign objects, severe head trauma, pressure from flying or diving).* The potential pain, hearing loss, and balance issues associated with this injury.* Impact on military service, potentially leading to non-combat roles.Harry Snyder's Early Life and Military Service* Introduction to Harry Snyder and his birth in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada in 1913.* His family's immigration to the U.S. in 1915, settling initially in Seattle.* The family's move to Santa Monica, California in 1922, where Harry mostly grew up.* Limited information about Harry's father and the reasons for the family's immigration (potential for trade or labor-intensive work typical of early 20th-century Dutch immigrants).* Harry taking on odd jobs as a teenager to support his family during a time of modest income.* Harry's eligibility for military service in 1941 under the Selective Service Act during WWII.* His likely service until the war ended in 1945.* Harry's role in the Navy as a yeoman, performing administrative and clerical duties supporting operational and logistical functions – a non-combat role likely due to a potential perforated eardrum.Meeting Esther: The Fort Lawton Connection* Harry's post-war work as a caterer at Fort Lawton, Seattle.* His meeting with his future wife, Esther Snyder, who worked as a restaurant manager at Fort Lawton.Interesting Tidbits:* The surprising origin of a massive brand stemming from a very small beginning.* The potential impact of a seemingly unrelated medical condition (perforated eardrum) on Harry Snyder's life and career path.* The early immigrant experience of the Snyder family.* The connection between military service and the eventual founding of In-N-Out Burger (meeting his wife).Your Thoughts* What are your favorite In-N-Out menu items? Share your thoughts in the comments!* Do you know any other surprising origin stories of famous brands? Let us know!* Subscribe for more fascinating stories of entrepreneurship and history. Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe

In this episode, we dive into the unbelievable journey of James Dyson — from a penniless young inventor in England to the mastermind behind a $9 billion vacuum empire. You'll hear how early mistakes, relentless curiosity, and 5,127 prototypes shaped one of the most disruptive innovations in home technology. Plus: dragons, Vikings, bellows, and the forgotten janitor who gave us Hoover.Whether you're an inventor, entrepreneur, or just someone who’s ever wrestled with a dusty vacuum bag — this one’s for you.What You’ll Learn in This Episode:* The surprising origin of air-powered cleaning (hint: Vikings!)* 🧹 How 19th-century inventors competed in the “vacuum wars”* 📦 The janitor who built a vacuum with a broomstick and pillowcase* 💡 James Dyson’s early failures — and why getting fired was his best lesson* 🌀 The real story behind the 5,127 prototypes* 🧳 How Japanese royalty saved Dyson from debt* 🏆 What every creator and founder can learn from Dyson’s persistenceKey Takeaways:* Always own your patents (seriously).* Innovation is often born from frustration.* Rejection by industry leaders can be your greatest advantage.* Marketing matters as much as mechanics — “Say goodbye to the bag” changed everything.Mentioned in This Episode:* Sigurd & Regin from the Völsunga Saga* Daniel Hess, Ives McGaffey, and the early vacuum pioneers* James Spangler, Susan Hoover, and the Hoover dynasty* Dyson’s Sea Truck, Ballbarrow, G-Force, and DC01* Apex Ltd. (Japan) and the power of global markets Get full access to Just One Good Idea at justonegoodidea.substack.com/subscribe