12/11/2023
WE ARE FAMILY
At one time or another almost everyone in my family worked at John Robert Wiltgen Design, Inc. It truly was a family business.
People liked that—those people being us.
My youngest sister, Regina, started her career with me when she was 6-years old. At that time, I had an office on the 17 th floor of the Merchandise Mart. I’d send her to the bank on the first floor to make deposits. Then she’d buy each of us a frozen yogurt cone from Mrs. O’Leary’s Yogurt Shop. Sometimes she would return fabric samples to showrooms on another floor in the massive two-block long building. She was a big help and not afraid. I wasn’t afraid for her either OR was I just plain stupid?
All three of my sister Cindy’s daughters worked for me at different times as they were growing up. Savannah was a full-time employee for 18-months and learned more from her coworkers than her uncle. Her younger sisters worked summers and holidays.
Mom’s sister, my aunt Mary Lou, worked with us for almost six years. Her husband, also Jeff, left her unceremoniously after 25 years of marriage—the same summer my Jeff left me. The Summer of Jeff’s we called it somewhere over the Atlantic on our way to Italy.
My professor loved her. Our class of 30 students traveled throughout northern Italy for half a month and every night he sat at our dinner table. We were heartbroken to learn he died of a brain aneurism several months later.
Mom, I mean Jean, and I loved having Mary Lou working with us. She went to the Mart to select the most unusual fabric and wallpaper samples for me to consider for our clients. She has two great eyes. Oftentimes she accompanied me on potential client interviews. She is picturesque and men love looking at her.
Once we met with a developer about an opportunity to design the lobby, common areas, and models of a new development.
I wanted to make a good impression and decided a stylish pair of loafers were in order. By coincidence I just purchased a pair at Versace in Beverly Hills. They were an innovative black leather dress shoe with a flap velcroed across the top, no laces. I had to have them.
Mary Lou and I looked chic and stunning riding in the back of a yellow cab. Before the meeting we needed to stop at the Mart. My aunt and I talked all the way there, so my attention was on our conversation. I paid the fare, closed the door behind us, and hurriedly stepped out onto the sidewalk. Something wasn’t right. I looked down and couldn’t believe what my one good eye saw.
Or didn’t see.
One of my brand-new shoes was missing. I asked Mary Lou if that’s what she saw, hoping I was hallucinating. She stared. The innovative shoe must have slipped off in the back seat of the cab without my feeling anything. And the cab was gone.
I have chronic neuropathy and therefore no feeling in my feet. Doctors are always sticking needles in them, asking “Do you feel this? No? What about this?” as the needle inches up my leg. Once, I watched Dianne Sawyer walk on hot coals on Good Morning America and thought maybe she has neuropathy too.
What were Mary Lou and I to do? Should she walk in as eye candy, so no one noticed me hobbling with one shoe? No. We taxied back to my loft to fetch a less showy pair of shoes for the interview, even though it meant arriving late.
When we entered the meeting, at the conference table sat the developer and all his minions in suits, ties, and their best shoes. Good thing I wore an eye-catching, business-looking, suit and tie. I told everyone the truth which produced questionable smiles. They never heard that story before.
Whether our proposal was not what they were looking for, or my emergency shoes were a letdown after the dazzle of my suit, we’ll never know. When we learned a few days later we didn’t get the job Mary Lou and I laughed so hard we cried and that made it all worthwhile.
My brother Ray worked with me from the time I shined shoes in taverns. An entrepreneur himself, he was a big part of John Robert Wiltgen Design, Inc. Having an MBA, his professional advice came in handy. When I received the commission to design a project in Africa, he traveled across the Atlantic with me and helped create documents needed by my client and his team of advisors.
Mom worked in the design biz too for 17 years. During our lunches we talked about work and a more important subject. Family.
This is an excerpt from my memoir The Candy in My Pocket. Would make a great gift for anyone who wants to learn more about the ins and out of the design business. Available online through Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Barbara's Book Store - even Walmart!
