The Value Of Trust

In December 1992, I was making cold calls near Baltimore-Washington International Airport when I stopped at a Hampton Inn. A pile of mulch caught my attention. I offered to remove it in exchange for the hotel’s landscaping contract for the following year. The manager agreed.

My twin brother, Nick, and I spent the day clearing away that mulch. The manager even brought us beers. Little did we know how many doors that encounter would open.

Her sales manager was dating the manager of a nearby Comfort Inn, which led to another contract. I stopped at the Red Roof Inn next door and won its business. One cold call had turned into three customers, and Panoramic Landscape Services was on its way.

Over the next 20 years, Panoramic grew to maintain approximately 150 properties, including hotels, apartment complexes, offices and condominiums. When we sold the company in 2012, we left behind loyal employees and customers who trusted us. But what I treasure most isn’t the money we earned. It’s the relationships we built.

One relationship was with Steve Steinberg, who managed the Hilton Garden Inn in Fairfax, Virginia. Another hotel had referred us to him, and we developed a friendship that extended beyond landscaping. When I asked Steve what he remembered about Panoramic, his answer surprised me. He couldn’t recall how our prices compared with competitors or even much about the landscaping. What stayed with him was how we treated him. “It wasn’t an anonymous faceless soulless transaction. It was a relationship.” He remembered that we were available, responsive and easy to reach. For Steve, knowing the people behind the business mattered. Years later, it was the relationship, not the price, that remained in his memory.

We first met Steve Woolridge at the Red Roof Inn in Alexandria, Virginia. As his career advanced through Homestead Suites and into senior management at Extended Stay Hotels, our relationship grew alongside it. He still remembers the begonias that seemed to grow three feet tall! More importantly, he knew he could count on us. When VIPs were expected, Nick and I made sure the properties looked their best, often putting in extra time without charging for it. Steve appreciated that we treated his properties as though they were our own. “That reliability created a level of trust that is hard to put a value on,” he recalled. His confidence helped Panoramic grow, and our friendship continues today, long after the last landscaping contract ended.

Bill Hedges, a regional manager with Extended Stay America, oversaw 50 hotels. He couldn’t inspect every property, but he knew he could depend on us. Of the six landscaping companies he worked with, Bill remembered Panoramic as the best. Two of his Maryland hotels were selected for a nationwide corporate photo shoot, partly because of their curb appeal. But our relationship went beyond landscaping. Bill and Nick became cycling partners, sharing countless miles and conversations. More than 20 years later, they remain friends, enjoying dinners and gatherings with family and friends. Bill also remembered how we treated our employees, many of whom stayed with us for years. As he put it, “It is always great when a business partnership turns into a life long friendship.”

Building relationships also made financial sense. Keeping satisfied customers cost less than finding new ones. Our properties became our best advertisements, generating referrals and opportunities. Nick and I visited properties regularly, worked alongside our crews and resolved problems before customers noticed them. We were careful not to grow beyond our ability to provide the service people expected.

We weren’t following a calculated formula for success. We believed that treating people fairly, keeping promises and taking pride in our work would serve us well.

I think back to that December day at the Hampton Inn. I saw a pile of mulch and an opportunity to win a contract. I couldn’t have imagined the friendships that would follow.

Panoramic was sold years ago, but the friendships remain. What endures are the people who trusted two brothers to care for their properties, and who, in many cases, became part of our lives.

Those relationships turned out to be among the most valuable things we built.