There once was an intelligent, kind and sympathetic school teacher who had to drive for over an hour to find a teacher supply store.

One day, in 1981, she discussed with her husband the possibility of quitting her teaching job to open her own store so that other teachers wouldn't have to drive so far.

Her husband - also intelligent, kind and sympathetic (so he says) - knew that although she was quite capable of handling the challenge, was concerned over the lack of retail experience by both of them. They therefore agreed that she would work in retail for a year to acquire the experience.

The search for a job began. She studied the want ads. She drove
around town looking for help wanted signs. She inquired at retail shops. She trudged through rain, sleet, hail, snow and scorching temperatures over 100 degrees. Finally, after an exhaustive one and a half hour search, she found a job at the local Hallmark shop.

When the year was over, the angelic couple sat down to plan the next step. They drew up income and expense projections by picking numbers out of the air. They wrote a needs assessment document which included a lot of "Bull". They developed meaningless graphs, charts and statistics, knowing that bankers were impressed with such nonsense.

They set up an appointment with a local bank. Dressed in their Sunday finest, with sweaty palms and nerves showing in their voices, they sat down to apply for the loan.

The banker, a young man in a gray suit with a red power tie, studied all of the papers while stroking his pseudo Vandyke beard and said "Looks like you've done your homework. What collateral do you have for the loan?"


The couple just looked at each other, puzzled. They had assumed that a business loan would be based on the assets of the business.

"Well, the inventory and other assets we buy with the loan, "the husband finally responded. This elicited an exaggerated laugh from the young, cocky loan officer.
"We can't use that as collateral. It's all movable. What's to keep someone from loading it into a truck and skipping town?"
"We wouldn't do that," the insulted wife exclaimed.
"Maybe not, but the bank must have hard collateral, cash, bonds, stocks, property. Something we can sell if we have to."

The banker informed them that all they had to use as collateral was their house. He could give them a small second mortgage at 18% interest. (Thanks Jimmy Carter)

Plans began in earnest to open the store. It should be ready by April to allow stocking for the back-to-school season. They also needed to name it.

The name should identify what the store sells while at the same time evoking a pleasant alliteration. They did not want to duplicate an existing store name, knowing that shipments and invoices could get misdirected. They researched trade magazines and trade show publications to eliminate any name that appeared. Finally, after ruling out the husband's favorite, "Learn-em a Lesson", they agreed on a name.

Location was the next project. The only space they found within their budget was a non-retail area outside the eastern edge of town.

With the help of relatives, they built fixtures, a check-out counter and partitioned off an area for storage. (They couldn't afford to stock that much space with material to sell.)

The wife spent her days on the phone, being turned down by vendors because she didn't have a minimum opening order or because they only did business with established stores.

Finally, after many discussions about what they had gotten themselves into, Education Station was opened in April 1982 with merchandise well spread out over the 1600 square foot store (actually less than 1200 after subtracting the storage area) to give the impression of more than was really available.

Since they couldn't afford to hire anyone to help in the store, they enlisted their under-age son and daughter without pay. They told the kids that it would help further their education by teaching them about the real world. (They bought it!)

Checking out customers, what few there were, was done on an antique cash register donated by a relative. If a customer insisted on a receipt, it was hand-written. Inventory was kept by walking around the store to see what was missing. Sales history was kept in the wife's memory.

Ah, but things changed. Just before their three year lease was to expire, the owner sold the building. The new landlord immediately sent a notice of a significant increase.

The couple, although fairly easy-going (she more than he), felt the new landlord was trying to take advantage of them since they had made so many improvements and felt they couldn't afford to move.

Suffice it to say that stubbornness overtook reason and the couple went further into debt to buy a piece of land and build their own building. They rationalized that they needed more space anyway.

During the summer of 1985, with the help of the son and some of his friends, the store was moved to outside the northern edge of town. Now, they had 2500 square feet, more space than they would ever need (yeah, right).

It didn't take long to fill up the new space. With the added volume, the old method of doing business wasn't going to get the job done. The search began for a computer system.

After two years of searching, they still hadn't found a system that satisfied them. The husband, being a bit braggadocios, said "I could program you a system better than anything you could buy."
"O.K." she said.
"Ut-oh," thought the husband. Although he had the knowledge and several years of experience, he knew how much time it would take to develop a comprehensive system.

Working part-time, he developed the fundamental system. During December 1989, they purchased two computers and peripheral equipment for $15,000 (costs have come way down since then) and put the system into production.

The wife, never having seen a PC before, was intimidated by the prospect of automation. Her fears soon dissipated when she discovered that she didn't have to know anything about computers to operate the system. All she had to know was how to operate the store, which she knew already.

With every passing day, the list of things she would like to see on the computer grew. The husband implemented the new requirements as fast as he could but the list didn't seem to shrink.

When vendor reps. visited the store, they were impressed at the wife's ability to check stock, automatically create a purchase order and print it before they left. They told her that there was a need for a system like this for other retailers and that the husband should consider selling it.

When the husband was informed about what the reps. were saying, he felt good about the compliments but knew what it would take to market and support a system. No way he could do this part-time.

Then things fell into place. The husband had always complained about the politics of a big company and how promotions were based on personality rather than accomplishments. (He probably felt this way because he had a rotten personality). So, one day when he thought his boss was making a major decision that would adversely effect the company, he engaged him in a heated discussion. The result of which was they agreed to part company.

Thus, Boost Software was born. A system for the computer illiterate. Simple in its ease of use but complex in its behind the scenes processing.

Now, several customers later (from Washington to Florida), the suggestions for added features keep rolling in. But, this is a good thing. It keeps the husband out of the store, out of his wife's hair and out of trouble.

footnote:
She has since double the size of the store and although she probably had something to do with the success, the husband likes to think it was mainly Boost that did it