Small Town Means Business

William King takes a break atop a hard day’s work. If you really want to know how many pairs of Bills Khakis William sold this day, feel free to count. And then add the 41 pairs not pic-tured that are in the tailor shop.

On October 9th, 2003, Bristol, Tennessee retailer William King threw a Bills Khakis event at his store. In the apparel trade, they call such an event a trunk show. In Bristol, they call it a "big ole time." William promoted the event like he had some-thing to prove. A recent series of physical problems had sidelined the sole proprietor. Not the kind of aches and pains that keep you down for a few days, or even a month. William’s ailments were the kind that force professional football players and veteran Hollywood stuntmen into retirement. His downtown Bristol store had missed William’s presence for an extended period and this was his chance to make up for lost time.

He got the word out by sending post cards, making phone calls, writing personal notes and stocking up on all essentials. After all, Bill was coming to town and William knew he had to make the most of the opportunity. Promote it and they will come. In this, he had faith.

The event lasted well beyond business hours. Those remaining at closing time found their way back to the King residence only a few blocks away. When it was all said and done, William King had registered the biggest single day in Bills Khakis history. Bigger than any day ever recorded in towns like New York, Chicago or Los Angeles. Business is alive and well in little old Bristol, Tennessee, population 24,821. As you drive into downtown, you are greeted by a sign that touts Bristol as "a good place to live." Indeed. It is also a good place to do business… as are thousands of small towns all across the country… towns where your neighbors are your friends, and your customers.

Home Is Where The Town Is
by - Steve Salerno

Life is different here

It’s been said that my town name "almost sounds like something you’d need antibi-otics for," and I can’t argue the point. The town in question is the tiny, old-as-the-Declaration-of-Independence borough of Macungie, Pennsylvania—population 3,039 and swelling by dozens each year.

"Macungie" is Lenape Indian for "bear swamp," a soggy heritage the locals embrace. You can go from bacon-and-eggs at the Bear Swamp Diner, to picking up sodas and party favors at Bear Swamp Beverage, to relaxing with an over-stuffed cone on the benches in front of Bear Swamp Ices & Cream, and so on. Also around town, you’ll see alternate spellings of Macungie itself, thanks to the complexities of translating Lenape into the various dialects of the Dutch and Germans who first settled here. Thus: Machk-unschi, Machts Kunski, Mackunshy, Macunjy, Maguntsche, Macongy, Macungy. Never before have I lived in a place where the number of spellings of its name approached the total number of residents. Sure, Macungie has its quirks. Clustered on its Main Street are four blocks of little shops with hanging flower baskets outside, which old-timers call "downtown"; to me it Life Is Different Here seems a stretch. What’s more, city fathers used public tax dollars to build a lovely train station complete with landscaped walkways, a station house, a central fountain and a flower grotto. All of which is fine except that the train does not stop in Macungie. (It’s one of those throwback towns you still get to by bus.) We do have freight trains that rumble through the town day and night. Teeth-grittingly often, it’s the latter.

Still, no one seems to mind. Indeed, I’m surrounded by the cheeriest, most well-ground-ed group of 3,038 people I’ve ever met. Many of them are entrepreneurs or executives who could live elsewhere, closer to Philly or New York, but choose not to because they have nothing to prove to anyone, because they’re the kinds of folks who don’t need $3500 watches or tennis bracelets to remind them of who they are. They’re comfortable walking Main Street in khakis, pullover sweaters, and work boots (real work boots, not the precious brands that have become "statement apparel" among city-dwellers who don’t know an ax from a hole in the ground). What comforts my neighbors is comfort. What they value most is value. The enduring kind. They don’t change for the sake of change, so they’re not into fads or frills.

Steve Salerno is writer-in-residence at Muhlenberg College in Allentown, PA. His essays and articles appear in America's foremost publica-tions, including The New York Times Magazine, Esquire, Harper's, The Wall Street Journal, and others

And me? I came here to take a job with a large publishing company that I thought would guarantee lifetime financial security. Though that didn’t pan out, I found security of another kind. Like much of small-town America, Macungie is one of those places where people really do go to

bed with their front doors unlocked and wake up the next morning to find their appliances right where they left them. It’s the kind of town where you raise kids.

Or grandkids. I’m helping my daughter’s 2-year-old son discover the world in a more tranquil way than would be possible in larger cities. I take the little guy on long walks past the mysterious train station to the neighborhood park without worrying about predatory panhandlers or drive-by shootings.

The graceful foothills to the west are lovely in every season but fall, when they’re breathtaking. And the corn fields I pass en route to the interstate—planted in their indented patterns, encircled by margins of close-cut grass—never fail to bring to mind the movie Field of Dreams and its many ghosts: not just the ghosts of aging ballplayers, but of America itself in a simpler time.

I’m even getting used to the train. There’s something calming about hearing its not-so-distant whistle on rainy nights when I work at the computer with the terrace door open. Granted, sometimes I wish the thing would stop here, pick up commuters, and swoosh us to the city. But then I realize that if it did that, the population would soar overnight to 50,000, everything would double in price, and the ice-cream place would change its name to "La Crème-Glace Shoppe" and begin serving 20 varieties of latté. No thanks. I think I like my little Bear Swamp just the way it is.

BILLS PROFILE: Jim Koch

Best known for his flagship brew Samuel Adams, sixth generation brewer Jim Koch founded The Boston Beer Company in 1984 and has since won over 500 international brewing awards. Certainly, it’s the beer that counts, but to get a true taste of a company that brews beer, you have to know what goes into the company. For example, Jim Koch chose to locate his new business in an abandoned brewery in a depleted area of Boston. Today, the entire warehouse complex is a stabilizing force in the neigh-borhood, housing 23 small businesses while employing many of the local residents.

Name
Jim Koch

Hometown
Boston, MA

Residence
Boston, MA

Occupation
Brewer

Why you do what you do?
I want to brew world class beer in America.

Favorite Distractions (Hobbies):
My four kids

Greatest risk you ever took: Starting a little brewery here
in Boston.

15 Minutes of fame?
INC. Magazine Entrepreneur of the Year 1995.

Proudest Moment?
Being picked as "The Best Beer in America" four years running.

 

Moment I’ll never live down:
Almost losing the engage-mentring as I was proposing.

Favorite Book?
Too many to count.

Moment You'll Never Live Down?
Streaking Theta Kite Flight, 1973 (University of Texas sorority street party).

Philosophy of Life?
Enjoy great beer and wear great khakis!

Quote:
Life’s too short to drink mediocre beer.

How You First Discovered Bills Khakis?
At Kleinbauer’s, a store in my wife’s hometown of Selinsgrove, PA.

Dear Bills

It’s Kevin Roberts with his authentic 1951 Packard, 200 Deluxe Sedan.

My week of Trains, Planes and Automobiles testifies to the versatility of your khakis. In the same week, all while wearing my Bills Khakis, I operated a freight train to Gillette, Wyoming and brought an 18,000-ton coal train back home to Edgemont, SD. Then, on horseback, I helped roundup and brand 300 head of cattle in Dewy, SD. From there, I drove up to Rapid City and flew to San Francisco where I toured the Napa Valley region and took in some of the sights in the Bay area, including a WWII submarine, a WWII Liberty Ship, the streetcars, and a helicopter ride that took me under the Golden Gate Bridge and then over Alcatraz. I topped it off with dinner on TopOf the Mark Hopkins Hotel, where I stayed, still while wearing my Model # 1’s. And now that I'm back in Denver, they do nicely at the opera, too. Yea, that's what I call versatility. In fact, I'm wearing them right now as I work my computer job.

Thanks!
Kevin J. Roberts

Vital Signs of a Khaki Person

If you can answer yes to two or more of the following, then there’s no denying you are "a khaki person."

Show great imagination with duct tape. Your eyeglasses are older than you are. Still vacation in the same spot as you did as a kid. Bought or sold a Swedish made car with over 100,000 miles. Buying another white shirt is your idea of adding variety to your closet. Still have a wooden tennis racket somewhere in the house.

Never catch up with your reading. Your dogs eat as well as you do. You overdress for yard work. Get along just fine with 4 Television Channels. Find something fundamentally wrong with microwaves. Ate in a Cyber Café, once. Can’t accept professionals in the Olympics. Don’t believe in debt.

"The Real America”

Norman Rockwell captured the real America on canvas. Nationally syndicated radio talk show host Glenn Beck captures it on paper.

America is more than the economic engine that fuels the world. It’s an idea. It’s a place where people are free to pursue their dreams and where individuals make the difference. It’s a place where success is shared and where people come to the aid of others. It’s a place where streets are lined with flags and business gets done on a handshake. This is the "real America" that Glenn Beck insists is alive and well today. We are just starved for ways to stay in touch with it.

We are honored and humbled to be included in Glenn Beck’s new book “The Real America.” It’s ironic that the existence of Bills Khakis is partially to prove a point, and that is that good old-fashioned American quality is still important in this time of technology and change. In fact, maybe more important than ever.

Employee of the Decade... Well, Almost

Myrtle was the very first employee at Bills Khakis, which is only one rea-son why she is the employee of the decade in the Free Press. Over the past 9 years, Myrtle has been responsible for making sure our product is up to standard. To that end, we owe her a great deal of respect and gratitude. She is the ultimate team player.

Myrtle’s hometown is Montgomery, AL and she was raised in Philadelphia. Myrtle is the proud parent of 3 children and has 7 grandchildren. (and she doesn’t look a day over 39, really). Her husband, Paul, is a retired Marine Corps Sergeant Major. Military life has taken Myrtle as far south as Georgia, and as far west as Hawaii. Reading, PA has been home for the past 17 years. Bills Khakis wouldn’t be at home without her.

“HAAWGISMS”


Eddie Holden (a.k.a. "The Hawg"), our Bills Khakis sales rep in the deep South, is famous for his stories, profound views on life and one liners. Pictured here on a dove huntin’ trip in Monroe County, MS with Oak Hall’s Paul Kauerz, Hugh Shackelford and Gus. While passing through Hawg’s hometown of Amory, MS, a northerner asked Eddie how to get back to the interstate…

"Drive straight down this road about 3 or 4 miles and turn left where the barn used to be."

A NOTE FROM BILL
Our newsletter is intended to extend a special look into our company, the people behind it, and most importantly, the personalities that really make things tick, our customers. We are looking for your letters and photographs for inclusion in our next newsletter. Tell us about your life adventures with Bills Khakis. Your contributions are not only appreciated, but necessary to create a newsletter that lives up to the above.

Contact Marge at 1-800-43-khaki or customerservice@billskhakis.com with submissions, contributions and pictures.