Intermedics Page 5
At approximately 1:20 in the afternoon of Friday, March 9, 1979, Albert Beutel ceased to be.
Rapid growth demands the ability to be in many places at the same time. Decisions to made, contracts to signed, fires to put out, deals to be closed and to do so, company personnel have to be face-to-face with their counterparts. Every day problems occurred in various parts of the country. In the days prior to video teleconferencing, flying commercial airlines got the job done.
One afternoon, Albert was unable to get a flight and he became incensed. With the bravado that was vintage Albert, he called the Beech Aircraft Corp. and ordered several airplanes, one of which was a Beach King Air, a beautifully appointed jet prop with enough range to go coast-to-coast. It wasn’t long before Intermedics had a fleet of aircraft including three helicopters and two private jets. It was our own little Air Force and we had a resident staff at the airport in Lake Jackson to arrange scheduling. Our executive staff could go anywhere in the country as long as an aircraft was available. We used it to great advantage and there was an aircraft at Albert’s disposal night or day.
Albert’s home was a palatial residence on several acres of the Columbia Lakes Country Club. He had a heli-pad constructed beside the house and he used it frequently to call in the helicopter if he had to make a quick trip to Galveston or other relatively nearby locations. He also had a heli-pad constructed on the rooftop above his office.
It was a Friday, the phones were quiet and Albert decided to go home to for the day. The helicopter lifted off at approximately 1 p.m. and pointed lazily in the direction of Columbia Lakes. It was one of our newer helicopters, a Bell Long Ranger with less than 40 hours on it. The pilot was considered one of the best helicopter jockeys in the state of Texas.
It never arrived at its destination. It crashed and burned in a tangle of scrub trees and bushes.
At approximately 1:20 in the afternoon of Friday, March 9, 1979, Albert Beutel ceased to be.
I was in Ocala, Florida that day and at 5 o’clock I made my routine call in to the office. I was immediately connected to the Melba, Albert’s personal secretary. I remember saying something like “Hi, Melba, what’s happening at the office”? She spoke three words that have remained with me all these years, “Charlie, Albert's dead”.
And that’s the way it ended, not with a bang but with a whimper.
Melba sent the WestWind to fly me back to Lake Jackson. I arrived at Albert’s home shortly before midnight and walked into a meeting that was a maelstrom of activity. Bankers, financiers, venture capitalists and board members were arriving from Houston every few minutes. The topic was not how Albert died but who would run the company now that he was gone. We had a large debt burden and the financiers who held the notes wanted to be sure business would co,ntinue smoothly.
The room had enough Beutel loyalists to control a vote. We pleaded with Philip to assume the role of CEO. We knew that he didn’t want the job but we wanted him to take over until a suitable CEO could be found. Philip was understandably grief stricken, his son was gone and he had no belly for a battle. By morning, Philip was sedated and left alone with his grief.
Russell Chambers, with the help of one of the board members, gathered enough support from the venture capital group and the bankers, and, knowing that Philip would not accept the position, was confirmed CEO of the company.
It was a dreadful mistake; he was a bumbling, deceitful and completely inept CEO.
Those of us who had been with the company from the beginning, found it difficult to work for Russ Chambers. He was abrasive, duplicitous and unwilling to delegate authority. I loathed him and could not work with him. Four months after Albert died I went into his office and blasted him with a litany of insults that ended with me saying “Russ, you’re such a double-crossing, double-dealing, lying son of a bitch that if you say good morning to me I have to look out the window to see whether it’s daylight or dark”. He looked at me and said “I’m sorry you feel that way”. I left the office bewildered; any CEO of merit would have fired me on the spot. Chambers was pragmatic; he felt that my value to the company was worth the insults. Two months later, when I really couldn’t stand it any longer, I quit. When I went into his office for the last time I was polite. I told him in a soft voice that I would no longer work at Intermedics as long as a bastard like him was CEO. I cleared out my office, went back to Florida and never returned to Lake Jackson.
Intermedics was every entrepreneur’s dream. Albert ignited a spark in the company. It flared and then rocketed into the high ether amid medical manufacturing giants. We gained market share with every month and in so doing, gained respect. Our product was used with great success in hospitals all over the world. We expanded our manufacturing facility until it literally became the City of Lake Jackson. We worked hard and we played hard. Our hospitality rooms after medical conferences were legend in the business. Nothing was too good for our implanting physicians and they were treated royally. I remember one party after the American College of Cardiology meeting when we gave each one of our implanting physicians a 10 gallon Texas Stetson, ushered him into a ballroom where he could sample a sumptuous buffet while listening to the music of Doc’s Severinsen’s trumpet and his Orchestra. We were at the top of our form and reaching ever higher.
Those were heady days and I reflect on them with a sense of awe, appreciation and respect.
Epilogue:
When we buried Albert, we buried the company along with him.
Intermedics, even under the bumbling and inept leadership of Russ Chambers, continued to prosper for a while due to the momentum carried from the Albert days. I was long gone by then. After a few years, for whatever reason, Intermedics was sold to foreign interests and slowly lost position in the market place.
There was no more excitement, no dash, no panache, no desire to win; just business as usual. Such an attitude was anathema to the Intermedics of old. A company that was flying high began to glide downward into obscurity.
Chambers used the company as his own fiefdom; he pillaged and desecrated a once proud company.
Today it no longer exists.