Starting Up – Part 2

By the early 2000s, our business was heavily tied to the hotel industry, though over time we had added apartment complexes and office buildings to our customer base. When 9/11 happened, we suddenly felt exposed. Travel slowed, hotels struggled, and uncertainty was everywhere.

Then something unexpected happened. The Vice President of Operations for a major hotel brand called me personally and said, “Don’t panic. We’ll get through this.”

And somehow, we did.

My divorce became final in 2004. I was left with a large house I never wanted and very little cash to my name. But fortune intervened. When I sold the house, it brought in far more than I expected, giving me the chance to rebuild financially. Much of those proceeds became the foundation of my investments.

At the same time, the business was growing rapidly. Keeping up became increasingly difficult. We handled invoices, collections, payroll, and plant orders ourselves. We never hired office staff. Instead, technology gradually transformed the accounting side of the business, making us far more efficient than we ever imagined possible.

Because our overhead remained low, our profit margins were unusually strong for our industry. Rather than expanding recklessly, we quietly built reserves for a rainy day. This was much to the frustration of our accountant, who constantly encouraged us to buy property instead of renting.

Then came the Great Recession of 2008.

Almost overnight, we lost roughly 20% of our business. Customers demanded price reductions just to keep contracts in place, while others eliminated nonessential services entirely. It became the most difficult period we had ever faced.

But for once, our cautious approach paid off. We were grateful we hadn’t burdened ourselves with an office or excessive payroll. More importantly, we had our rainy day funds.

As the economy slowly recovered, so did we.

Financially, life was improving, but my brother and I were exhausted. Running a business for two decades takes a toll that people on the outside rarely see. Even when things are going well, the responsibility follows you home at night.

Then, in 2012, another landscaper jokingly said, “One day I’m going to own your company.”

A few months later, we approached him to see if he was serious.

By the end of 2012, the business was sold. Part of the agreement required us to stay on for three years to help with the transition, but the reality was clear: the chapter we had started back in 1992 was finally coming to an end.

I officially retired at 55.

Even after the sale, I worried constantly about money. I lived frugally for years, uncertain whether I had truly prepared enough for retirement. Eventually, I realized the planning had been sound all along. Most of the anxiety had existed only in my head.

But years of physical labor eventually caught up with me.

By 2019, simple things like walking uphill became painful. MRI’s revealed severe degeneration and spinal stenosis in my lumbar spine, the result of decades of wear and tear. In 2020, I underwent major back surgery followed by a long recovery. Progress came slowly, but by 2023 I was finally feeling like myself again.

Looking back now, I realize the business gave me far more than financial security. It gave me resilience, perspective, and eventually the freedom to step away. But like most worthwhile journeys, the cost was higher than I understood at the time.