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THE “JE NE SAIS QUOI” OF FRED SIMON

     In my time at Simon, there was something mysterious and magical about the leadership I enjoyed from Fred Simon.  He was in charge of the  7-8 of us, who leased our malls to retailers.  Fred’s demonstrated skills have formed my views on how leadership, team work and business organization work best.  

     I have had many bosses, who dictated what they wanted done and “…by God, it better happen.”  Fred, by contrast was a LEADER…he shared your fox hole, showed you how to get a job done and spent time assessing what went right or wrong…always teaching and cultivating success.  I could learn more from Fred in an hour than I could learn from others in a year.  He was always funny, deferential, humble and I have attempted to emulate his lessons as I have led my own organizations. 

     He was low key, cared about others and taught me all parties had to benefit or it would go sour for everyone.  People say this all the time, but rarely practice it.   

     One of the greatest lessons I learned from Fred was “talking less was better.”  It became my goal to let others talk, as I genuinely listened and spoke as little as necessary.   

     I was attempting to finalize a new store location with a popular retailer, when Fred walked in my office smoking a cigar.  He asked, “How are we doing in here?”  I said not too good.  The individual said he didn’t want to be in the mall and sure didn’t like my proposed economics.  Fred pulled up a chair, while gently puffing on his cigar and stared at the retailer…not saying a word.   

     Fred and this guy had been doing business for a long time.  He said, “I can’t do it, Freddy.”  Fred just continued to stare at him.  The retailer looked at me and said, “I can’t do it”.  I figured out not to say anything and watched Fred.  Not a word was spoken (so help me) for a full minute.  Fred slowly puffed on his cigar, the retailer looking everywhere in the room but at Fred and I watched Fred.  The silence was finally broken with a meek, “…I can’t do it Freddy.”     NOTHING.  Fred continues to stare at him.  Finally, in a barely perceptible voice, he looked at me and said, “Ok, send me a lease at the numbers you quoted.”    

     He got up, and left my office.   Fred stood up, looked out the window and continued to slowly draw on his cigar in silence.  I quietly asked, “Can you tell me what just happened?”  He smoked, looked out the window and finally said, “We enjoy a mutually beneficial relationship.  It just took him a while to remember, it’s in all our best interests to be there for one other.” 

  I felt I had just completed a graduate course.

     It was not always peaches and cream…Fred had to save me more than once.  One of the more embarrassing rescues was from the clutches of his older brother and company founder, Melvin.

     I was leasing an expansion of Battlefield Mall in Springfield, Missouri.  I was meeting with potential retailers for the mall and learned that Mel was flying in that afternoon, with some department store representatives.  They were driving on, Mel was returning to Indianapolis on his plane and I could catch a ride home.  Great!

     I am at the airport at the agreed upon time.  Mel shows up and asks me to place his briefcase inside when I board, while he goes to a pay phone.  (Pre-cell phones.)  I also use a pay phone, board the plane and we take off.    

     After a few minutes, Mel asks for his briefcase.  I look around and realize I have left it on the ground by the pay phone.  The blood drains from my face, I take a deep breathe and explained what I did.  Mel goes ballistic, is yelling, waving his arms and questions the legitimacy of my birth.  I run up to the pilots, explain what I did, they turn around and fly back to the Springfield airport.  We land, secure Mel’s briefcase, we both make a few more phone calls (because we are now going to be late.)  He hangs on to his briefcase, we get on board and leave again…TAKE OFF, TAKE TWO!

     One of the pilots is chuckling and makes me a drink as Melvin continues to grumble under his breath.  He slowly begins to talk to me again, asks how the leasing is going at Battlefield Mall and wants to see a plan showing our progress.  At that moment,  I realize I had left MY briefcase on the ground by the phone booth.  (TIME STANDS STILL and I get a prickly sensation on the back of my neck.)  This time Mel is not angry…he just stares at me with an incredulous look on his face.   

     I go up to the pilots, tell them what happened, ask them to notify the Springfield airport to please pick up my briefcase and keep it.  The airport called the mall.     Someone went over, picked it up and mailed it to me in Indianapolis.   

     The pilots ask if I want to sit with them for the rest of the trip, to avoid Melvin.  No, no…I’m a big boy, I have a beating coming and I can take it.  I go back to my seat, across from Mel.  He doesn’t say a word, just stares at me with his mouth partially open in disbelief.  We finally land, a car picks Mel up and takes him home.  I walk to my car and realize this may very well be the last time I am on a Simon plane or work on a Simon project.

     I sleep fitfully, knowing I will have to be placed against a wall at daybreak and shot.  Upon arriving in the office the next day, Fred’s assistant, Gayla Jean calls and says he wants to see me.  Well…this is it.  It has been a good run, maybe I can find a radio station here in Indianapolis…I sure as hell can’t get a job as a travel companion.

     I go into Fred’s office and he has everyone in there.  They break into applause, are slapping me on the back and howling with laughter.  Fred said he convinced Mel firing me would do no good, I would still be alive and creating havoc out there.  Mel had agreed and thought it best to simply have me killed.   He felt it would be more merciful to society (like shooting a rabid dog) and continued to wonder if perhaps, I was insane and should at least be kept on a leash.  Fred said Mel did not want to travel with me anymore and wanted MY briefcase secured to my wrist with a handcuff.  I agreed to these terms and thanked Fred for saving me.



     With a BROAD paraphrase, stolen from Abraham Lincoln…”Any success I enjoy in my professional life, I owe to Fred Simon.”  I love this man and will always be grateful to him for everything he taught me.

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