Hill York Book

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Preface

By Chip Lafferty

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or sixty of the eighty-one years that Hill York has been in business, one man of ordinary means and methods filled the hearts of others with hope. He made lives more comfortable for the people around him—employees, friends, family and complete strangers—just in due course. I also know this man, our author, embodies something special that enriches and enables what I referred to as ordinary. That specialness is his Priorities, as you’ll learn in a moment.

His story had to be captured; we couldn’t lose decades of goodness. It flowed out of the author's mouth and he wasn’t trying hard to find the words. As the stories emerged, the next story built on the first and soon a whole afternoon passed and he hadn’t even started. It’s easy to talk about what you know and love. The stories are all true and the names have not been changed.

To receive the greatest value and enjoyment from The Hill York Story, read it aloud to a friend. You will be blessed, trust me. That’s how I heard it the first time: read to me by Judith Kolva, the talented and caring writer who became family as part of this journey. Thank you, Judith, for investing yourself into this project and creating a treasure. The Hill York Story has had a profound, positive influence on many lives and families.

To the other contributors, I know the author poured even more into your lives. He thanks each of you for your tireless contribution to the story. Your input is greatly valued and appreciated and will continue to guide the next generations of Hill Yorkers. They will thank you as well.

I haven't even mentioned air conditioning yet, and well, it’s only a part of what is important. The Hill York Story is being told using air-conditioning terms and interesting stories, from a company that is best in class. However, air conditioning was just a vehicle for the author to show me, to show us, how his Priorities of Faith, Family, and Work, in that order, should be lived out in our personal and professional lives. I am blessed to be the son and best friend of the author, Robert S. Lafferty Junior. Thanks, Dad. I love you and I love Hill York.

Enjoy!

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The Fevers

he mud-wizened river queen steamed down the Chattahoochee River.

Cauliflower clouds lazed across a sky that was bluer than blue. Eddies swirled behind her blunt stern as she snaked between lichen-covered boulders, past red-clay hills and Alum bluffs. A pine-studded wilderness, interwoven with magnolia and water oak, slid past her starboard rails.

4.

As she neared the harbor that protected Apalachicola, Florida, from the Gulf of Mexico, the captain cut her engines and maneuvered her flat belly through the rim of grasses that stretched into the bay. She crept past mangroves that framed a prairie swamp dotted with brash orange canna and stately ostrich ferns.

Puffs of black smoke curled from her smokestacks. Her landing bell clamored. Ropes thudded on the dock. A crewman bellowed, “Watch your step, now!� and offered a hand to passengers as they disembarked into the tang of sea salt mingling with the brack of mudflats.

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Dr. John Gorrie stood on deck and gazed down at the flurry of activity. He shaded his eyes to catch his first glimpse of Apalachicola. When Dr. Gorrie arrived in 1833, Florida was still a territory—little more than a frontier military outpost dependent on an annual subsidy from the Spanish Crown.

Apalachicola was the second largest seaport on the Gulf and Florida’s sole cotton port. It bustled with traders, purveyors, and speculators. All that remained of River Tribes that originally claimed the land were ghosts of clamshell mounds twice as high as a man’s head.

By contemporary standards, Apalachicola was far from provincial. Still, it lacked churches, a courthouse, and constables. Salty seamen brawled in bars.

Unexplained drownings occurred daily. Raw sewage dumped into streets. A fetid ditch ran through the heart of town. Piles of oyster shells drew maggots and flies. Fish carts, reeking of decayed entrails, lined the city market.

Oyster Shuckers at Apalachicola But Apalachicolans’ main concern was “the fevers.” Yellow fever and malaria showed up when temperatures soared in May and lingered until November frost. Druggists and empirics, even barbers, offered cures. But bleeding, purging, vermifuging, patented charms, and life pills failed to deliver promised miracles. The fevers were dreadful—deadly.

Town folks welcomed the accomplished doctor from Abbeville, South Carolina—a “decent human being” who graduated from the eminent Fairfield Medical School when he was just 16 years old and earned the reputation of “extraordinary physician.” Maybe Dr. John Gorrie was their champion?

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Mr. Darling’s Boarding House

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r. Gorrie’s valise held all that remained of his refined life among South Carolina’s intellectuals. He gripped its handle and strode through Apalachicola’s muddy streets, past brick warehouses, to Mr. Darling’s Boarding House, where for $30 a month he rented a crude room that overlooked boats, rocking and dipping dockside. A 5 a.m. cowbell summoned him to a breakfast table shared with boisterous river men. A supper of cold biscuits, grits, bacon, and scuppernong, washed down with bitter coffee, was served at 6 o’clock sharp.

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Epidemic

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r. Gorrie did his best to control the fevers. But by summer’s end 1841, he counted 47 yellow fever deaths. Apalachicolans avoided the word “epidemic.” But evidence was irrefutable: Almost hourly, citizens were stricken with blood-swollen tongues, distended veins, dark purple skin, delirium, and finally “the black vomit.” Yellow contamination flags flew from doorways along shuttered streets. Lanterns glimmered over the midnight blue Gulf, marking lonely nighttime vigils.

Traditional remedies—ground milkweed, tartar emetic, purging, bleeding, curtaining windows with gauze, even shooting cannons—failed. The death rate rose. There was no time for cherry coffins or elegant headstones. Slaves dug graves marked with ballast stones and guarded by bullfrogs serenading the black shadows. Ghost ships, haunted by their cargo of dead, were set adrift.

Clue

Dr. Gorrie’s Fever Room

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he last day of September the sky turned steely gray. A fierce wind tore at the pines and drove anchored ships on land. Pelting rain formed rockfilled gullies that roared down Water Street. Air temperature lowered. Then, in October, a sharp frost brought clear, frosty moonlit nights. The epidemic died as suddenly as it was born.

Dr. Gorrie wrote: Nature would terminate the fevers by changing the seasons.

Cold will cure the fevers. I must pursue my own means of producing cold. He poured over scientific journals until he discovered a clue: Hot air rises. Cold air descends.

Ignoring his wife’s objections, Dr. Gorrie remodeled their house on High Street.

He took over their parlor for his office, turned their carriage house into his crude laboratory, and transformed their downstairs bedroom into his fever room. He rigged a chain from the ceiling of his fever room and suspended a basin filled with ice. He cut a hole in the ceiling and added a pipe. The hot air rose through the pipe. The cold air descended and soothed the afflicted patient.

10.

Mechanical Ice

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r. Gorrie’s air-conditioning system worked. The problem was ice. Midnineteenth century Southerners relied on natural blocks of ice, carved from frozen lakes in the north and delivered by specially-fitted schooners.

Ice was dubbed “white gold” and cost a dollar a pound ($32.26 in today’s dollars) when and if ships arrived. Mechanical ice was the logical solution.

In 1845, Dr. Gorrie wrote a column for the Apalachicola Commercial Advertiser that read, in part: If air were highly compressed, it would heat up by the energy of compression. If this compressed air were run through metal pipes cooled with water, and if this air cooled to the water temperature was expanded down to atmospheric pressure again, very low temperatures could be obtained, even low enough to freeze water. It is my duty to explore this phenomenon.

Working Model

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ohn Gorrie was a man of quiet habits. Town folks were familiar with “reticence in his dark, serious eyes and a thoughtful expression in his swarthy face, framed by silky black hair that curled slightly below the tips of his ears.”

Most likely, Apalachicolans were not surprised when he pushed aside worldly concerns and isolated himself in his laboratory where, for three years, he experimented with making mechanical ice.

By 1848, Dr. Gorrie had a working model. He transported his invention to the Cincinnati Iron Works, where technicians built two prototypes and demonstrated them to the public. The very next day, New York’s Commercial Advertiser (predecessor to The New York Globe) ran an editorial: There is a crank down in Florida who thinks he can make ice by his machine that is as good as that of God Almighty.

Humans creating ice borders on blasphemy.

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U.S. Patent No. 8,080

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till, accompanied by a working model of his invention and a filing fee of $30, Dr. Gorrie applied for a patent. But Northern newspapers attacked his machine and his character so vehemently potential backers refused to support him, and his patent application gathered dust in bureaucrats’ basements.

He persisted. Eventually, one anonymous Boston investor stood up to the critics, and Cincinnati Iron works agreed to produce his machine. On May 6, 1851, John Gorrie was awarded U.S. Patent No. 8,080 for the J. Gorrie ice machine . . . the machine first ever to be used for mechanical refrigeration and air conditioning.

Excerpt from Patent No. 8,080, dated May 16, 1851:

What I do claim as my invention and desire to secure by Letters Patent is: The process of cooling or freezing liquids by compressing air into a reservoir, abstracting the heat evolved in the compression by means of a jet of water, allowing the compressed air to expand in an engine surrounded by a cistern of unfreezable liquid, which is continually injected into the engine and returned to the cistern, and which serves as a medium to absorb the heat from the liquid to be cooled or frozen and give it out to the expanding air. —John Gorrie 13.

Difficult Days

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r. Gorrie returned to Apalachicola, intending to continue his studies and further his research. But within weeks, he received a letter informing him his financial backer was dead.

Dr. Gorrie was a scientist, not a salesman. Still, in the dead of winter 1852, he traveled to New York City, where he picked his way through slush-covered streets, along windy waterfronts, to publicize his invention and attract another backer. Along the way, he hawked a 15-page pamphlet entitled Dr. Gorrie’s Apparatus for the Artificial Production of Ice in Tropical Climates.

New Yorkers thrilled over Jenny Lind’s performance at Castle Garden, flocked to admire the opulent Metropolitan Hotel, and gossiped about the “revealing” off-the-shoulder evening gown. But they were not interested in mechanical ice.

Nervous Exhaustion

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isheartened, Dr. Gorrie applied for a second patent: An Air-conditioning Process for Cooling and Disinfecting Ventilation. But the overt smear campaign against him and his ice machine escalated.

Most likely, Dr. Gorrie’s incrimination was led by Frederic Tudor—the “Ice King.” Tudor was an attack-dog tycoon, from an influential Boston Brahmin family, who singlehandedly built Tudor Ice Company into a worldwide natural-ice empire. Frederic Tudor had money, power, notoriety, influence. John Gorrie did not.

Frederic Tudor Dr. Gorrie haunted the post office daily, hoping for a letter informing him his patent was granted. Months passed. A letter postmarked Washington, D.C. never arrived. By winter’s end 1855, he gave up. Dr. Gorrie’s biographer suggests, “He succumbed to nervous exhaustion.”

15.

Unrecognized Champion

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n June 22, 1855, John Gorrie penned his last will and testament. He bequeathed interest in patents granted or to be granted to his wife, Caroline. He directed her to place income from these or other possessions in a trust specified for John and Sarah, their two children. To Caroline he bequeathed $400 to be used for the purposes of mourning.

History does not record the cause of John Gorrie’s death. Franklin County’s 1855 tax rolls document that his real estate was valued at $38,500 (slightly over $1 million in today’s dollars). Most likely, he did not succumb to financial failure. Native Apalachicolans infer, “He was so humiliated he took his own life.” Whatever the cause, John Gorrie died on July 16, 1855. He was 51 years old.

According to his wishes, his body was dressed in plain, neat attire . . . and exposed to public viewing in the burial ground beside Apalachicola Bay, where it shall be laid to rest. Church bells tolled as the crowd wound past his casket and praised the man who had birthed their children, attended their sick, and buried their dead.

John Gorrie’s last printed words were mechanical refrigeration and air conditioning have been found in advance of the wants of the country. Perhaps his mourners sensed they had lost an unrecognized champion who lived and learned too far ahead of his times?

16.

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n 1850, Congress authorized the National Statuary Hall and allowed each state to dedicate a statue of its most esteemed citizen.

Florida bestowed this honor on the man from the port town of Apalachicola.

John Gorrie’s statue, sculpted by C. Adrian Pillars, was unveiled in 1914, 58 years after Florida’s greatest scientist and most beloved doctor died.

Dr. John Gorrie Florida’s Unrecognized Champion

Legacy

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ast forward 81 years to 1936. The United States of America was in the throes of the Great Depression. The stock market turned upside down.

Banks closed. Factory doors were nailed shut. Unemployment held at 25 percent. Folks stood in bread lines and got an occasional bite to eat in soup kitchens.

Yet, two entrepreneurs in South Florida dared to stand on Dr. John Gorrie’s shoulders. They dared build on his courage, hopes, and persistence. They dared start a cooling company that used his technology to change the way South Floridians—and in turn the world—lives, works, and plays.

The company’s name is Hill York.

Its comfort champions are Hill Yorkers for life.

This is their story.

This is their legacy.

19.

Bob says . . .

RISK IT ALL

Great Depression

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he Great Depression hit the United States in ’29 and lasted through ’41. Dad told me times were tough. Millions were unemployed—homeless. Folks in big cities stood in breadlines. Food riots broke out. Kids wore clothes made from flour sacks. But even in the middle of a mess, some dared risk it all.

And that was a good thing for Hill York and Hill Yorkers. I’ll tell you what happened: In 1936, two guys by the name of Ren Nitzsche and Everett Carroll left the cold weather in New Jersey, where it belongs, moved to Miami, and started a business.

Back then, banks didn’t lend money. Truth is, after the stock market crashed in ’29, banks failed left and right, and lots of people lost every penny. Folks didn’t trust banks, so they hid their cash in socks or stuffed it under mattresses.

Only way Ren and Everett could get a piece of the action was cough up personal money. And that’s how it’s been ever since. Anyone who owns part of Hill York has to invest personal money and sweat equity. We call it “skin in the game.”

22.

Everett Carroll

Ren Nitzsche

All in a Name

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en and Everett repped Hill Refrigeration Company display cases and York Corporation flake ice. Hill was in Trenton, New Jersey. York was in York, Pennsylvania. Distance didn’t matter—display cases lined with flake ice were a perfect combination for their business.

Now I’ll tell you something very interesting: Ren and Everett combined the two established company names and named their new business Hill York. Today there’d be legal problems up the wazoo. But, back then, nobody thought twice. We’ve been Hill York for eighty years, and that’s the name we’ll keep forever. It’s ours. Nobody can take it away.

I give Ren and Everett credit for naming their business Hill York. They could have called it Carroll-Nitzsche Engineering. But they put their egos aside and called it Hill York. We’re proud to be associated with two American companies that are wellknown manufacturers of top-of-the-line equipment.

Still, people get confused and think we build equipment. We don’t. But customers like to say, “I own a Hill York.” That’s fine with us. When customers are happy, we’re happy.

OLD-TIME DISPLAY CASES

Bob says . . .

Hand in Hand

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efore I get ahead of myself I want to tell you why display cases and flake ice go hand in hand. The first mechanical refrigerator was displayed at the Saint Louis World’s Fair, in 1904. But during the ’30s and through the Great Depression, food stores still didn’t use refrigeration. Perishable goods were stored in ice chests. That was a big problem, especially in South Florida. So Ren and Everett came up with a solution—they lined Hill’s display cases with York’s flaked ice.

Today you can go into a supermarket, like Publix, and see cases lined with ice that display fish, meat, and poultry. But those cases are different from old-time display cases Ren and Everett sold. Theirs had glazed-glass sliders customers pulled open so they could reach in, grab their food, and pull shut. The ice kept the product cold.

Today’s cases are far advanced. There’s no glass to pull back, and they’re refrigerated—the air circulates inside the case, and that’s what keeps product cold.

Supermarkets weren’t around in 1936, so Ren and Everett called on mom-and-pop grocery stores, butcher shops, fishmongers, and meat packing plants. Even though the Great Depression was going on, people had to eat or they would starve. Ice-lined display cases kept food from rotting, so they were important pieces of equipment.

25.

Bob says . . .

IN THE BEGINNING

Firsts

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en and Everett needed an office. So they looked around and landed on the west side of Biscayne Boulevard, at Northeast 15th Street, in Miami. I can’t tell you what their revenue was at the end of their first year, but my guess is they weren’t in the black. I can’t tell you when they first showed a profit, but most likely it took a couple years.

Dad never said who Ren and Everett’s first customer was, but he did tell me Wolfie’s, on Miami Beach, was one of the first. Wolfie’s was a diner, open 24/7. Years later, I liked to sit at the counter and order a cup of coffee and a slice of their world-famous cheesecake. If I was really hungry, I ordered an overstuffed pastrami sandwich.

Wolfie’s was so popular lines of famous and not-so-famous customers wound clear around the block.

Slanted-Glass Building

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y 1948, Ren and Everett picked up customers, hired a couple employees, and moved to Southwest 8th Street, in Miami. Hill Yorkers still call it “the slantedglass building.”

The December 1947 Hill York NEWS describes the building to a T:

In a city literally studded with sparkling modern architecture, this beautiful new building, home of Hill York, has proudly taken its place. The architect has embodied the most advanced features of modern functional treatment; a spacious showroom; many efficiently planned offices; drafting room; stockrooms and storage rooms amply large to accommodate the many hundreds of items, some weighing ounces—some weighing tons. And all this is housed within a handsome exterior, excitingly modern, finished in delicate pastel shades and gleaming aluminum.

Leading the parade is the new ice cube maker, not only new, but alone in its field— turning out hundreds of clear, pure ice cubes. This will be the most talked about machine of 1948.

27.

Visitors entering Hill York’s new building find their attention immediately arrested by this striking mural. The eye falls upon the legend: “The dominant factor in refrigeration and air conditioning is the scientific phenomenon of latent heat.” The message of the mural is that of a great achievement of science, engineering, and industry, leading to greater human comfort and happiness for all.

The building was designed by Robert Fitch Smith, who was a rock-star architect in Miami.

Buildings he designed sell for multimillions in today’s market. Plus, 8th Street—now known as Calle Ocho or Little Havana—is one of the most famous streets in Miami. True story: Around 1968, Everett sold the slanted-glass building for forty-five thousand dollars. Yep! Forty-five grand! It would be worth a fortune nowadays.

But things happen according to God’s plan. The slanted-glass building wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. It was small—we didn’t even have a place to store big pipes.

Automatic ice cube maker: Most talked about machine of 1948 28.

We couldn’t afford two buildings. So we sold the slanted-glass building and moved to Hialeah, where we had forty-five thousand square feet.

Only Game in Town

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uring the war years—1941 to 1945—manufacturers weren’t allowed to sell new equipment stateside. It was all sent overseas to help the war effort. Nobody could call up a manufacturer and order new equipment. It just wasn’t available. So Hill York sold used equipment—mainly to commercial outfits.

The big boys—breweries, meatpacking houses, commercial foodservice outfits, even morgues—loved mechanical refrigerators and freezers. So Hill York sold used, industrial-type refrigeration to them. They even refrigerated the S.S. Elena—a sea-going freighter, based at the old Port of Miami.

Dad said Roger Hollis, from Western Meat Company, was the first guy to give Hill York commercial business. Western Meats was a meat-packing house that sold beef, pork, and chickens to Miami’s restaurants and hotels. Hill York built their refrigeration plant and took care of Roger for years.

It was complicated because systems weren’t prepackaged—they came in pieces and had to be bolted and piped together, hands-on, on the job site. Hill York was the only game in town that could do it, and do it right.

30.

ROBERT STEEL LAFFERTY SENIOR

Bob says . . .

Mover and Shaker

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give Ren Nitzsche and Everett Carroll credit for founding Hill York. I really do.

But they were very, very different from the Lafferty family. Truth is, Hill York really started when they hired my dad, Robert Steel Lafferty Senior.

When Ren left to become president of Coppertone—the suntan lotion guys—Dad bought his shares. Everett stayed on and worked for thirty-eight years. He was a good guy who watched every penny . . . the money man. But Dad was the super salesman.

Haddonfield-Type

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ad was born in Haddon Heights, New Jersey, on March 14, 1906. He spent his early years in Haddon Heights, but eventually, his family moved to Haddonfield. Dad was more of a Haddonfield-type guy. Not to be snooty, but folks from Jersey know what I mean.

I didn’t know my dad’s parents—Charles Lafferty and Josephine Lawton Lafferty. But I did hear they got married in Pennsylvania, and crossed the Delaware River to settle in Jersey.

I can’t tell you about Dad’s childhood because he never talked about it. I do know he went to the University of Cincinnati. I don’t know if he graduated. He was not a registered professional engineer, but he was one of the best engineers I ever knew. Dad started his career way before calculators or computers. But he didn’t need either— truthfully, he couldn’t even type, but he could run columns on cost-estimate sheets in his head and calculate costs to the penny.

32.

Good Guy

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’ll tell you an interesting story about how Dad met Mom: My mom—Mable “Mae” Goldthrop—was born in Collingswood, New Jersey, around 1910. Her dad must have died young because her brother, Wesley “Wes” Goldthrop, was like a father to her.

Well, Dad sold Quiet May oil burners. Back then, most houses had coal furnaces in their basements, and first thing every morning and last thing every night, somebody had to stoke the furnace and carry out the ashes. Winters in Jersey are long and cold, so this was a real pain. When automatic oil burners came out, people thought they were the best thing since sliced bread.

Mom worked in a hardware store in Oakland, New Jersey, that sold oil burners, so Dad called on her store. Over time, Wes got to know Dad. One morning, he said, “Mae, Bob Lafferty is a good guy. You should marry him.” That was that. My parents got married in the late ’20s and were together until Dad died in 1964.

33.

Good Kid

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y sister, Ruth Amy, was born in 1931, and I came along in 1935. We had a happy childhood. I especially remember family picnics, complete with fried chicken. We watched Philadelphia Athletics’ baseball games on our fourteen-inch, blackand-white TV. When Dad said, “Before long, we’ll be watching color TV,” I thought: Yeah! Right! What does he know?

Our neighborhood was safe and friendly. Every Sunday, our family attended services at the Haddonfield Methodist Church. Every afternoon, at 5 o’clock, I walked three blocks to the train station and met Dad. I was only five years old, but nobody worried. My school—Tatem Elementary—was a long walk, but all the kids walked.

I was a good kid—I wanted to be a good kid. Probably the worst thing I did was ride my bike too far, but I knew my way around and wasn’t trying to hurt anybody or get hurt. I was just minding my own business.

Bobby and Mom, 1936

Every Saturday, Mom knotted twenty-five cents in a hankie. I stuffed it in my pocket and took off to the movies. Afterwards, I stopped at the drugstore, sat at the counter, and ordered a hamburger and milkshake.

34.

My favorite game was Hill Dill! Come Over the Hill! We’d run over the hill and slide into the safe spot before the kid who was “it” tagged us. Sometimes I got tagged. Sometimes I didn’t. But I didn’t care. The best part was yelling, “Hill Dill! Come over the hill!”

We lived in a nice house, at 120 Windsor Avenue, in Haddonfield. It was yellowish stucco—two-stories and a basement. I liked the basement because I could swing from the pipes. We had a big backyard with a huge tree. I loved climbing that tree—even after I fell and broke my arm.

Our house had one bathroom. Every night, Dad said, “Hey, Bobby, do you mind running to the bathroom and grabbing the soap?”

Every night, I said, “Yeah . . .”

Every night, Dad said, “Do it anyway.”

Dad was a family man and a good dad, but he was stern.

He thought my butt was a cushion and didn’t mind swatting me. I’d grumble under my breath but did what I was told.

Bobby, Dad, and Ruth Amy, around 1940 35.

Good Egg

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om was a good egg—she didn’t have a selfish bone in her body. After my sister and I were born, she stayed home. Mom was a decent cook, but I was a poor eater. I liked Mom’s chicken and homemade dumplings and was all over anything sweet. But that was about it for food. I especially hated meat. I’d fork a hunk of meat and drop it under the table. After dinner, I’d clean up my mess. To this day, I don’t know why I wasn’t busted. Thanks, Mom!

Bobby, Mom, Ruth Amy, around 1942

Respect

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n 1942, World War II was going hot and heavy, and the government needed civil service workers to help the war efforts. So Dad joined the Signal Corps. Dad’s job was to visit businesses and review their books for excessive profits. Naturally, a guy checking up wasn’t welcome. But Dad was a numbers guy. He got in, wrote his report quickly, and got out.

Most days, my sister and I rode along. Our car was a Studebaker Champion. Studebakers were known as “melodies in metal,” and we owned two—one was beige; one was blue. People turned their heads and gawked, so Ruth and I stuck our noses on the window and waved. We thought we were big stuff—until night came and we slept in a built-up chicken coop.

During the war, gas was rationed. Drivers were issued stickers that indicated how much gas they were allowed. Dad had a Class C sticker, which meant he could get unlimited gas. But some gasoline stations wouldn’t honor it—no reason—they just wouldn’t.

One morning, Dad pulled into a gas station and asked for a fill-up. A hulky guy leaned on the gas pump and said, “Sorry, pal. I can’t accept C stickers.” Ruth and I didn’t dare breathe.

Just as polite as could be Dad said, “Sir, this is an official government issued sticker.

Please pump my gas.” The guy backed down and filled up the tank. But that was Dad—he always commanded respect.

37.

The Vote

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uring the early ’40s, Dad traveled to Miami to attend industry meetings and got friendly with Ren Nitzsche and Everett Carroll.

One evening, back in Jersey, my family sat around the dinner table, talking about family stuff when, out of the blue, Dad said, “Ren Nitzsche and Everett Carroll asked me to move to Florida and work for Hill York. What do you think?”

We’d never heard of Hill York and never dreamed of leaving Jersey and moving a thousand miles away to Florida. Life was good. But Dad explained his oil burner business wasn’t doing well, and he was tired of the cold weather.

As usual, my family voted on major decisions. First vote, Dad, Ruth, and I voted “YES!” Mom voted “NO!” She didn’t want to leave her family, friends, or bridge club.

This went on a few nights. I can’t tell you what happened, but Mom surprised us and voted “YES!” And that was that. The vote was unanimous. So in 1945, we packed up our Studebaker and moved lock, stock, and barrel to Miami, where Dad worked as a commission-only sales guy for a small company named Hill York.

If he sold, we ate. If he didn’t, we went hungry.

Gutsy, huh?

38.

No Air Conditioning

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ur first house was a rental in the south end of Miami. We lived there six months, or thereabouts, and fell in love with the area. Dad always wanted to live by the water, so he purchased a nice house, right on the water, and that’s where we lit.

Believe it or not, our house wasn’t air conditioned. It had a big fan in the center hallway. We opened the windows, and the fan sucked air in and cooled the house—at least somewhat. Most nights, we were so sweaty we could hardly sleep.

Miami Beach,1950s

Bobby Lafferty performing in Olympic Gold Medal Diver, Pete Desjardins’, water show.

40.

Water Shows

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was in the sixth grade, so Mom and Dad enrolled me in Miami Shores Elementary School. Starting a new school was scary, but pretty soon I made friends. When it came time for high school, I went to Miami Edison Senior High School—Red and white! DYNAMITE! Team! Team! Team! All here for Edison stand up and scream!

But I was far from “DYNAMITE!” I played halfback on the football team, until the coach yanked me out and said, “What’s wrong with you, Lafferty? You ran ninety yards, back and forth, and gained all of two. Take a seat!”

I didn’t care. I loved to swim and dive. I could swim like a fish, and Olympic Gold Medal diver, Pete Desjardins, taught me to do flips off the three-meter board. I got so good I performed in Pete’s water shows at the MacFadden-Deauville resort hotel and cabana club, on Miami Beach. The resort was world renowned and featured the world’s largest outdoor saltwater swimming pool.

Pick Up Your Feet

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ad didn’t allow me to sit around, doing nothing. He’d say, “Bobby! Pick up your feet! You’re dragging!”

One morning, Dad flipped on my bedroom light and said, “Bobby! Get up! Get dressed! Follow me!” We ended up at the Shelborne Hotel, on South Beach, where I watched Dad make a sales call. But there was more to it than me being lazy.

We walked into a room full of big wigs, and Dad said, “Let me introduce you to my son, Robert Junior.” Dad was cunning—always thinking. He closed the big job by showing off he was a family man.

Little Tests

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ad liked to read. Reading helped him make decisions. He told me he made almost as much money reading tax books as he did reading air-conditioning books. His tax book was four inches thick. He understood every word and could talk to his accountant in accountants’ language.

Dad wasn’t about to let me slide. He’d give me little tests in the car. “What’s a debit?

What’s a credit?” I’d better know the answer, or else! But that was one way Dad smartened me up.

42.

Go for the Gusto

D

ad was a Rotarian. One of his jobs was to book speakers. It was easy to book the mayor. But Dad wasn’t satisfied with easy.

He thought: Who’s in the news? Who do people really want to hear? Back in 1959, Richard Nixon and Fidel Castro were top newsmakers. So Dad wrote letters inviting them to speak at Rotary. They declined respectfully. Regardless, Dad had the guts to go for the gusto.

Bob Lafferty Senior’s heat exchanger opened the door to air conditioning hotels on Miami Beach.

Innovator

D

ad was an innovator to the nth degree. He figured out how to use a heat exchanger (equipment the dairy industry uses to process milk) to pump cool seawater out of the ocean and run it back into the ocean as warm water.

This was in lieu of a cooling tower. It opened the door to air conditioning hotels on Miami Beach for year round occupancy, and thus, changed the face of tourism in South Florida. As Chip says, “We put our shovel in the sand for this one.”

I’m proud to tell you Dad’s process is still used in our industry today. His only mistake was he didn’t patent it.

Professionalism

D

ad was a good-looking man—five-nine, weighed a hundred and seventy-five pounds, wore glasses, and later in life was slightly bald. He always wore a coat and tie to work, and that added a brand-new level of professionalism to Hill York.

He believed dressing up was the proper thing to do. Others took Dad’s lead, and that established an unwritten dress code for Hill Yorkers who work in the office.

44.

Roney Plaza Hotel

T

he best way to describe Dad is to tell you he was a doer—outgoing—a well-liked pioneer who had a ton of confidence. Take the Roney Plaza Hotel, on Miami Beach . . .

First, I’ll tell you about the Roney Plaza Hotel. Back in ’24 a lawyer, from New Jersey, by the name of Newton Baker Taylor Roney (sounds like a lawyer, doesn’t it?) bought property on Collins Avenue, at 23rd and 24th Streets, and announced he would build the most luxurious hotel on Miami Beach. And he did.

Its Bamboo Room was world famous. It was the first hotel on Miami Beach to offer cabanas, tennis, and a nine-hole golf course. It was THE place to see and be seen—Hollywood celebrities, high society bluebloods, even European royalty stayed at the Roney.

In 1946, the Roney wasn’t air conditioned—no hotel on Miami Beach was air conditioned. So tourists refused to visit during the summertime. Many businesses closed from Memorial Day to Labor Day. That was normal. People accepted it.

45.

Did that stop Dad? Nope. He called on the Roney and explained how Hill York could retrofit the hotel with air conditioning. FYI: It’s a lot trickier to air condition an existing building (retrofit) than it is to air condition a new building.

The big wigs bought his pitch, and Hill York did the job—engineered it; installed it; made it work. Dad had the know-how, and he had Hill Yorkers to back him up. Lots of companies were afraid to take on groundbreaking jobs. But nothing was impossible for Dad. Word spread like wildfire—the Fontainebleau, Sherry Frontenac, Deauville, Seaview, Carillon, Harbor House—every hotel on the beach wanted in. Hill York ended up air conditioning more that sixty-five percent of hotels up and down the beach, and giving the world its first year-around, climate-controlled resort.

Dad was asked to give a speech to Miami’s Chamber of Commerce. He said, “If you were to tell a Miamian ten years ago that in the 1950s, he would see our beachfront hotels doing a thriving business all summer long, he probably would have laughed at you. He may have envisioned the magnificent hotels with their lavish appointments and facilities, but newspaper headlines reading: THOUSANDS VISIT MIAMI BEACH . . . IN JULY! would make him gasp.”

46.

Mark My Words

A

fellow by the name of Porter Norris was a member of Dad’s Executive Club.

Porter was sales manager for Eastern Airlines—a top-notch guy who had traveled all over the world.

One morning, Porter stood up in front of the Execs and gave Hill York a nice plug.

He said, “I can tell you who changed Miami and all of South Florida. And it’s not who you think. It’s Bob Lafferty and Hill York. They’re the ones making South Florida a year-round resort. They’re the ones turning a steaming, summertime, tropical paradise into a tourist mecca. They’re the ones determining South Florida’s future.

In turn, that creates a ripple effect that changes the way people all over the world think and vacation. Mark my words: Because of Bob Lafferty and Hill York, life in South Florida and all around the world will never be the same.”

48.

Never Reneged

T

here isn’t an air-conditioning company on the planet that can complete a huge job without borrowing money. On the other side of the equation, banks are in business to lend money to good people.

Banks liked Dad. Loan officers liked Dad. They’d say, “Bob! Good to see you.

How are you? How’s the family? Tell me about your project.” Time after time, Dad got his two million, or whatever he asked for.

Hill York has never reneged on a loan, and word gets around banking circles— if a company doesn’t repay a loan, it will never get another. When Hill York gives its word, you can, literally, take it to the bank.

Dad taught me, and he taught me well.

PROFIT is not a dirty word.

49.

One Giant Leap

D

ad was good at EV-REE-THING. I’ll tell you a story you’ll never forget: Back in ’57, the Soviet Union surprised the dickens out of the United States and launched Sputnik—the first artificial satellite to orbit the earth. That left good-ole USA with egg on its face.

In 1961, when John F. Kennedy was elected president, he challenged America to step up its space program—no way was the Soviet Union going to land a man on the moon before we got there.

Around ’63, the U.S. Air Force gave Aerojet General three million dollars to manufacture solid fuel rockets—solid fuel rockets were the state-of-the-art means to launch humans into space. Aerojet looked around and decided to build their plant on property less than five miles from Everglades National Park.

And guess who won the contract for air conditioning the entire facility, including its two huge rocket silos? Yep. It was Robert Lafferty Senior.

And guess who landed on the moon first? Yep. It was the United States of America.

I’m not exaggerating when I tell you, in his own way, Dad was there when Neil Armstrong walked on the moon and said, “This is one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

50.

Learn and Move On

O

ne morning, Dad woke up with a terrible pain in his side. He saw the doctor several times and had many tests. Eventually, he was diagnosed with colon cancer. Dad didn’t smoke, didn’t drink, and always watched what he ate. Nobody could believe it. We kept asking, “Are you SURE?” The doctor was sure.

Dad was an optimist—certain he could beat it. So for three or four years, he played golf, fished, and kept working until he was in so much pain he couldn’t get out of bed.

That’s when I became the “delivery boy.” At the end of every work day, I stopped to see him and told him good stuff. I exaggerated because I wanted to make Dad feel better. He was probably thinking: Nothing is EVER that good. But you’re doing your best, son.

One afternoon, I surprised him. “Dad,” I said, “this morning, I called on a guy who’s building a bowling alley. The job’s a hundred tons, and I gave him a good price— seventy thousand dollars. But I’m sorry to tell you he turned me down.”

Dad looked at me for a minute. Then he said, “Son, no matter how great you are—or think you are—there’s always somebody better. You will lose jobs. Learn and move on.”

51.

Let Me Be Me

Miami Office, 1960s

T

he morning of February 18, 1964, Dad didn’t wake up. I was already at the office when my mother called. “Bobby,” she said, “I think your dad passed away.” I jumped in my car and blew through every traffic light between Hill York and Dad’s house on 104th Street. But it was too late. Dad was dead. He was only fifty-four years old.

Even though my name is Lafferty, I didn’t automatically inherit Dad’s shares—they transferred back to the company via his estate. If I wanted to be an owner—and I did—I had to put my skin in the game. Dad’s shares added up to fifty thousand dollars. I was only twenty-eight years old and didn’t have that kind of money. But the company’s buy-sell agreement had provisions allowing me to take out what was essentially a loan, and pay it back through dividends.

So there I was, a greenhorn kid, part owner of a company with about a hundred and fifty employees. All I had was a certificate proving I had an engineering degree from University of Florida. I’ll never forget the day I sat at my drawing board, picked up my T-square, and drew a plan. I was proud and showed it off to other engineers.

52.

Before I could even put down my pencil, every engineer in the department gathered around my drawing board, laughing their butts off. Finally, one of them composed himself long enough to say, “Ah, Lafferty, do you know what ductwork is?”

I puffed up. “Of course, I know what ductwork is. What’s your problem?

“I don’t have a problem, Lafferty. But you might consider erasing duck work and replacing it with ductwork.”

Thank the Lord for Leslie Grant. He was good to me. Like Dad, I’m a “natural” salesman—a go-get-em guy. I didn’t have formal sales training. But I did have Bob Lafferty.

And Bob Lafferty knows when you treat people right, they’ll treat you right.

So Mr. Grant paved my way. Then he turned me loose and let me be me. I can honestly tell you I never lost a job just because I was young. I can also tell you I gained ten years’ experience in one year!

Leslie Grant 53.

Chip, Bob, and Bob

Dad’s Legacy

I

’m confident Dad is looking down, dancing a jig, over what Hill York has accomplished in the fifty-some years since he passed.

Dad started the ball rolling. I picked it up and ran with it. Now my son, Chip, is the quarterback. And his son, Bob, is ready to get in the game.

We are Dad’s legacy.

54.

CHARLES WESLEY DANIELS

Bob says . . .

Glazier to President

A

long about 1950, Dad and Everett had Hill York in good shape. It was time to expand from Miami to Broward County. So they hired a guy by the name of Charles Wesley Daniels—Charlie. Charlie started out as a glazier and ended up as Hill York Broward’s president.

Charlie Daniels

Charlie was a thinker—a dreamer—committed to team spirit. He was a good businessman, with lots of simpatico. I give Charlie credit for building Hill York’s business in Broward County.

Charlie knew how to motivate people to think big, so in the ’80s he wrote a speech predicting Hill York’s future. He spent lots of time on his speech and intended to deliver it to the entire company.

Just as Charlie was ready to step to the podium, he choked up. He was so emotional he couldn’t say a word. But Charlie’s speech was important to him. He turned to me and said, “Bob, please do me a huge favor. Please read my speech.”

I was honored to read what Charlie entitled, in jest, REPORT TO ANNUAL STOCKHOLDERS MEETING, OCTOBER 2001.

In part, he wrote . . .

A funny thing happened on my way in from Rio last week. My red scanner light blinked.

A message flashed across my screen: HILL YORK JUST RECEIVED AN ORDER FOR THE COMPLETE ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROL JOB OF YET ANOTHER CITY IN RUSSIA. This past year has seen the successful opening of our China office—the final link in our worldwide network.

Our transportation fleet consists of twenty-five jet-powered helicopters, thirty highspeed ships, and we just placed an order for our first executive rocket ship.

Serving the environmental needs of millions of people around the world is a big task.

Our twenty-story office building is already bursting at the seams. When you visit our office, you’ll step into a two-story high, three-hundred-foot diameter rotunda. The Hill 56.

York story begins here. You’ll see portraits of men who have devoted their lives to Hill York. You’ll be handed a book about the company’s history.

Remote cameras are mounted on each job site. With the flip of a switch, I can communicate with project managers all over the world. If I want to visit a job site in person, I fire up my air car and am there within minutes.

Hill York’s environmental control units—units that deliver germfree air—are installed on the moon. People with dreaded diseases hop into a rocket ship, spend three weeks in germfree air, and return to earth completely cured.

I just signed our largest contract to date—Hill York will install environmental control units on Mars.

But hang on—there’s more to come.

We’re off to the moon.

Hill York hasn’t made it to the moon or Mars—yet. But Charlie was spot on when he predicted a book celebrating the company’s history!

57.

Worth His Salt

C

harlie has quite a story—one that proves what can happen to a Hill Yorker who is worth his salt. The best person to tell you about Charlie’s early days as a Hill Yorker is his daughter and my wife, Joan Daniels Lafferty.

Joan says . . .

Call Me Charlie

D

ad’s full name was Charles Wesley Daniels. If someone addressed him as Mr. Daniels, he corrected them. “Call me Charlie,” he said.

Dad married my mom, Teresa—Tess—Crush, in 1931. I came along in 1936. I don’t remember much until World War II broke out in 1941. Like all patriotic men, Dad wanted to serve his country, so he enlisted in the Seabees.

True story: Dad came home from signing on the dotted line and said, “The son of a guns never asked me if I could swim!”

Dad only had an eighth grade education. That meant he couldn’t be an officer. Instead, he was promoted to chief petty officer. That was darn good because only ten percent of all enlisted guys earn that rank.

After Dad was discharged, we lived in New Jersey. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life, but he did know he was tired of the cold. So he built a trailer in our kitchen, hooked it to our car, loaded all our worldly possessions, and, in the middle of a horrible snowstorm, we headed to Florida. Now what?

Before the war, Dad worked for C.V. Hill Company, where he learned the art of glass glazing. Glaziers are skilled tradesmen who know how to cut and shape glass that is then installed as replacement in everything from windows, to mirrors, to skylights.

58.

Through industry connections, Dad knew Bob Lafferty Senior. As luck would have it, Hill York needed a glazier for their display cases. One thing led to another and in 1945, Bob Senior hired Dad as Hill York’s glazier. That was an important job because if glass got frosty or wasn’t perfect products wouldn’t sell.

Even though Dad was an excellent glazier, he wanted more. So Bob Senior offered him a commission-only job selling window air conditioners out of the Miami branch.

That went well, but again, as luck would have it, Bob Senior and Everett Carroll decided it was time to add a third partner who would open a branch in Broward County. Dad was their guy. And he was more than willing to put his skin in the game.

Hill York Broward

e Merger: Bob Lafferty Junior and Joan Daniels

Merged

W

ith that Dad, Mom, and I moved into a small house, on Southwest 19th Street, in Fort Lauderdale. Our house had a screened-in porch that we eventually closed in as a Florida room. I still remember that porch—it’s where Bob and I had our first date. We sat on that porch and threw rocks out to the driveway. But our first date was a long time coming—we didn’t exactly fall in love at first sight—truthfully, we didn’t even like each other.

After I graduated Duke, I worked in accounting, in the Fort Lauderdale office. Well, the only engineer in our office needed some time off. Even though the Fort Lauderdale office and the Miami office were their own separate businesses, my dad called Bob’s dad and asked if Bob could fill in.

Bob’s dad said, “He still has lots to learn, but I guess he’s good enough to help you out.” So Bob came to Fort Lauderdale for a few weeks. After we got over our first impressions, we did start dating. One thing led to another, and on November 30, 1957, we tied the knot. As I always say, “We didn’t get married. We merged!”

61.

Problem Solved

2125 South Andrews Ave., Hill York, Fort Lauderdale, Fla., 1950

A

t first, Dad worked out of our house. He could only afford one phone and one mechanic—Mr. Fry. So on weekends, while Dad and Mom played golf, I answered the phone, jumped on my bike, pedaled as fast as I could to Mr. Fry’s house, and told him who needed help.

In 1950, Dad rented an office at 2125 South Andrews Avenue, and almost seventy years later Hill York is still at that location. But back in the ’50s, it didn’t look anything like it does today.

When Dad moved in, the space was empty. NOT. A. THING. So he brought in a card table, folding chair, and second-hand typewriter. That’s where Mom sat. Mom was secretary, bookkeeper, file clerk, office manager, and janitor. By title, Dad was 62.

president, but in reality, he was salesman, sales manager, assistant installer, dock manager, truck unloader, and bill collector. The sign cost him his first year’s revenue, but he was proud of it.

If anything held Dad back, it was his lack of education. He had an analytical mind and an engineering mentality. But his spelling was terrible, and that embarrassed him. Dad was a Hill Yorker through and through and wanted to represent Hill York as a consummate professional. So he hired Hedy—his wonderful secretary. Dad dictated. Hedy took shorthand and wrote his letters. Problem solved.

Little Guy

B

ob Senior and Mr. Carroll had their own fish to fry. Still, they wanted Hill York to succeed big time in Broward County. But they never interfered. They allowed Dad to do his job, and Dad never disappointed. He was humble—the little guy who made it big and never forgot where he came from. Dad supported other little guys and earned respect by treating people well and offering encouragement.

Dad had a great sense of humor and could make people laugh. Basically, he had a salesman’s personality—he could read customers and get them shaking their heads up and down. Dad loved selling, and he loved Hill York. Every evening, we sat around the dinner table, and Dad told stories about his customers.

Love It!

D

ad was a heavy smoker—he ended up with emphysema and survived cancer.

But he worked until 1988, when his heart gave up and he ran out of life. By then, he’d been a Hill Yorker for thirty-eight years. Dad never forgot the opportunity Bob Senior gave him and the support he received from Bob Junior. Then along came Chip—Dad loved Chip more than I can tell you.

No doubt Dad is looking down, proud as a peacock, about what Hill York has accomplished. He’s thrilled that Chip is the third generation of Laffertys to lead Hill York.

In plain language, Dad would Love it! Love it! Love it!

64.

Chip says . . .

Sheriff of Mayberry

I

’m sorry to tell you I didn’t know Grandpa Lafferty. But I can tell you about “Pop Pop,” Charlie Daniels, and how he made a difference in my life.

Pop Pop was a self-made man—a man’s man—a competitor. Nobody gave him anything. He knew what it meant to earn a fair day’s pay from a fair day’s work. He was the first in and last out of the Broward branch every day and built the business with creative thinking and sweat equity.

Pop Pop came out of the field, so he had the heart of a technician. He knew how to sweat and get his hands dirty. The image that comes to mind is Andy Griffith, Sheriff of Mayberry.

Chip and Pop Pop

Fort Lauderdale Community

C

harlie Daniels was one of the founding business members of the Fort Lauderdale community. He, along with people like the Whiddon family of Causeway Lumber and Bob Cox of Lauderdale Marina, loved Broward County, and as their businesses grew, Broward grew. That in itself is a powerful legacy.

Lessons

I

learned lots from Pop Pop—one of my first lessons was show the world you’re a gentleman. He loved to dress well—proper—like a Southern gentleman. He always wore a suit, tie, and Fedora hat. One year, Pop Pop went on a world cruise and bought a tuxedo from Maus & Hoffman. I still wear his tuxedo, and it reminds me of Hill York’s tradition of proper dress. Dressing well isn’t about showing off. It’s about showing respect.

In a backdoor way, Pop Pop taught me what it means to be an entrepreneur: Pop Pop had a terrible experience flying. He prayed, “Lord, if You get me back on the ground, I’ll never step foot in another airplane.” And he didn’t. Pop Pop always drove or cruised.

Well, I was fifteen years old, proud owner of a brand-spanking-new learner’s permit.

I’d driven less than five hours in my entire life when Pop Pop asked me to drive him from Fort Lauderdale to New Jersey. No problem! We jumped into his brand-new Cadillac—it was so comfortable I felt like I was sitting on a plushy couch.

But that’s where my life of luxury came to a screeching halt—for over a thousand miles we listened to eight-tracks, playing Perry Como, Dean Martin, and Bing Crosby. By the end of the trip, I knew how to make something out of nothing.

Pop Pop taught me to solve problems—not pass them off. He was congenial and polite, yet demanding and firm. I can’t tell you how many times I heard him say to a Hill Yorker, “I don’t pay YOU to ask ME what to do. YOU come up with solutions and recommendations.”

66.

Never Looked Back

E

ventually, Pop Pop was ready to pass the baton, and that’s how I became an owner. One morning, Dad called me into his office and said, “Chip, you’ve paid your dues. I’m inviting you to buy your grandfather’s shares of Hill York. We have a structure in place. It’s a legal buy-sell agreement. Read it. Get back to me.”

Come to find out, Hill York’s buy-sell agreement is an important part of our history and culture. Simply stated, a shareholder must work for the company and pay for his shares out of his own pocket. He can’t give his shares to anyone, including his wife. If he gets hit by the proverbial bus, his shares go back into the company. It’s simple and protects the business.

That all sounded great until Dad told me the whopper amount of money I needed to put my skin in the game.

God bless Nana Tess Daniels. She gave me a ten-year note, with a huge payment due at the end of each year.

I was just a whippersnapper, raising a young family. I was scared. This was hard—stressful—a big responsibility. But I put my nose to the grindstone, earned what I had to earn, and never looked back.

Chip Lafferty: I never looked back.

67.

Bob says . . .

FOREFATHERS

D

uring Hill York’s early years, there were a number of guys who helped us get going. They’re Hill York’s forefathers, and they deserve credit for helping make Hill York what it is today.

Leslie L. Grant

T

he first one who comes to mind is Lesley L. Grant—Mr. Grant was with Hill York twenty-six years and ended up president of Hill York Sales and Service, in Fort Lauderdale. He could fix anything and everything, so we called him “Fix.” After Dad died, Fix helped me. He was a good guy—generous with what he knew, and after forty years in the industry, he knew a lot. What I learned from Fix helped me step up and lead Hill York.

70.

Donnie Trousdale

D

onnie Trousdale started out as an apprentice in construction, was promoted to service manager, and ran our service department for twenty years. Eventually, he was promoted to vice president of service. Donnie is a perfect example of how a “good ole country boy,” who works hard, can make it big at Hill York.

Pete Goetzman

P

ete Goetzman was a registered professional engineer—absolutely brilliant. He had a well-respected engineering mind and could design anything. When Pete talked, customers listened. Knowledge poured out of his mouth, which built enormous confidence with our customers. Pete left us to work for NASA, but we lured him back, and he was a Hill Yorker for thirty-four years.

Pete had a heart condition and could have retired and lived the easy life, but he loved Hill York more than anything. I give Pete credit for leading our engineering department to what it is today.

71.

Lucien R. St. Onge

L

ucien R. St. Onge—Luke—was Hill York’s chief engineer and a national authority in the field of refrigeration and air conditioning.

Luke’s most famous project, outside of Hill York, was during World War II, when he duplicated the conditions of temperature and pressure an airplane needed to climb from the ground to an altitude of thirty-five thousand feet by lowering its inside temperature from seventy degrees above zero to sixty-seven degrees below zero in TWELVE seconds. Luke was brilliant.

Skeets Helms

S

keets Helms started as a service manager and ended up president of Hill York Broward Service Corporation. Skeets was a born and bred Hill Yorker. His father retired from Hill York, several brothers, his son, a nephew, and a brother-in-law were all dedicated Hill Yorkers.

72.

Herb Dell

H

erb Dell was a Hill Yorker for thirty-six years. Charlie Daniels hired him as a sales manager, and he worked his way up to president and my right-hand man.

I trusted Herb and gave him authority to take charge and make major decisions because I knew he knew what he was doing. Day in and day out, Herb treated Hill York like his own business.

Those are the guys who, along with Dad and Charlie Daniels, got us started.

Sure, they’re important. But every Hill Yorker is important.

73.

HILL YORKERS

Bob says . . .

Culture

H

ill York has an excellent reputation for treating people well. It’s part of our culture.

I mean how many other companies name employees after the company? You don’t hear Publix’s employees called “Publixers” or AutoNation’s employees called “AutoNationers.” But Hill York’s employees are Hill Yorkers and darn proud of it.

People ask, “How do I get on at Hill York?” Truthfully, it’s not easy because you’ve got to be good— very good.

But once you’re in, you’re in.

Hill Yorkers for life

74.

A PATH FOR EVERYBODY My Door Is Open Chip says . . .

T

he term Hill Yorker has been around for as long as I can remember. It’s a term of endearment. I inherited it from my dad, and he inherited from his dad.

Hill Yorker for life is a fairly new concept. I’ll tell you how it came about: Each year, Hill York’s partners hold a planning meeting and agree on strategic goals. In 2014, we added Create Hill Yorkers for life to the mix. Then we asked ourselves, “How do we run a company that attracts and retains Hill Yorkers for life?”

Well, we operate a business where Hill Yorkers love to come to work. Why? We treat them like family. Then they work hard and appreciate the company so much they never leave—never want to leave. Actually, they fight to stay.

The facility itself is pleasant. But there’s more, much more: Most companies say, “Work hard and hope the next thing comes your way.” But at Hill York, we lay it all out. Then we talk about it candidly: “This is what I see in you. This is what I expect of you. This is where you can go. This is what you must do to get there.”

There’s a path for everybody, and everybody’s path is different. Some are happy to stay in the same job. But some want to advance up the ranks. I love to hear a Hill Yorker say, “Someday I want YOUR job, Chip.” I think to myself: That’s great. I’ll need a replacement someday. If you work hard enough, maybe you’re it. Cream rises to the top, so each and every Hill Yorker has an opportunity for a great future—an opportunity to be an owner.

75.

Bob says . . .

IT’S A DOOZEY

Right Guy

M

ark Kerney is the right type to be a Hill Yorker for life. I had my eye on that guy for a long time. He has the right personality and right smile. He’s well respected in the union ranks, and he’s well respected in my ranks.

I’ll let Mark tell you the story about how he got hired. It’s a doozey.

Mark says . . .

Out of the Blue

M

y Hill York story started before I even met Bob. My youngest brother, Patrick Kerney, was project foreman on a Hill York project in the Virgin Islands. That particular year Hill York struggled financially, with the exception of my brother’s job. Obviously, Bob liked and respected Patrick.

At the same time, my father was number two man at the technicians’ and pipefitters’ local union hall. Bob knew my father well, and over time, came to like and respect him.

That’s the good news. The bad news is Bob discovered fraud and needed someone he could trust—right now. So he called my dad and asked if I might be interested.

Dad said, “It depends on the offer!”

Okay. It’s a Friday, around Christmastime. Employees at the Air Conditioning, Refrigeration and Pipefitting Education Center, where I was principal for the apprenticeship program, went to Shula’s to celebrate. Everybody was whooping it up and having a great time. Don’t ask me why, but I decided to leave the party and return to the office.

77.

I sat at my desk. The phone rang. I grabbed the call.

Out of the blue, a voice said, “Mark, this is Bob Lafferty from Hill York. I want to talk to you.”

Thinking he must mean the following week, I said, “I’m happy to meet with you, Bob.” “Where do you live?” Bob asked.

“Way out west, in Bonaventure.”

“Can you meet me at Bonaventure Golf Club in an hour?”

“Well . . . sure.”

I walked into the clubhouse, and Bob was already there. He shook my hand, talked golf, and showed off his brand-new driver. I’m thinking: What the . . .

Practically mid-sentence, Bob did a three-sixty. “Mark, I want to hire you as Hill York’s vice president of service.”

I said, “I’m honored, Bob, but I’m a pipefitter by trade. I know lots about construction, but service is out of my wheelhouse.”

“I need somebody I can trust to work under Donnie Trousdale. Donnie’s a good guy.

He’ll help you.”

“Well . . . I’ve got three kids and one in the oven. The union has good pay and health benefits. I’d need equal compensation, if not more.”

Bob showed me a copy of the former vice president’s W-2 and said, “I had to fire this guy. But the Lord opened the door for you. I’ll match his salary and benefits.”

78.

Can I have twenty-four hours?”

“Call me tomorrow. Say either yes or no dice. But I’ll warn you—if you accept, you’ll be a Hill Yorker for life.”

I wasn’t sure what Bob meant. But I talked to my wife. She was in. And just like that, in June of 1991, I became vice president of what was then Hill York Service Corporation.

And Bob was right. I AM a Hill Yorker for Life.

Mark Kerney (on le)

Got Your Back

I

nteresting aside: When I resigned from the union hall, my co-workers gave me a black briefcase. I liked my briefcase. I was proud of my briefcase. I carried my briefcase to work every day.

The problem was Donnie smoked like a chimney. Everybody in the office smoked— a lot. When I got home in the evening, smoke rolled out of my beautiful briefcase.

It was time for the rubber to meet the road. “Donnie,” I said, “I’m not a smoker. I can’t take the smoke any longer.”

Donnie thought a minute. “Mark,” he said, “you’re the young blood Hill York needs.

You’ve got skills to move us from typewriters to computers. You help me. I’ll help you.”

Just like that Donnie, who had smoked forever, quit cold turkey. And he made everybody else quit. It just goes to show what Hill Yorkers do for Hill Yorkers.

Being a Hill Yorker for life means the Laffertys give you the benefit of the doubt.

You’re on the team—part of the family. They’ve got your back and will take care of you through thick and thin.

Bob says . . .

DREAM COME TRUE

Worth His Salt

J

eff Phillabaum is a Hill Yorker worth his salt.

Pete Goetzman hired Jeff and Hill York turned him into a Hill Yorker for life.

I’ll let Jeff tell you the story about how he got hired.

It’s a dream come true.

Jeff says . . .

American Dream

I

grew up in Piqua, Ohio. My dad owned a roller skating rink that sat on a large piece of property.

My plans were to go to college and open my own small air-conditioning company on the property.

You know—the American Dream.

Well, Ohio is a great place to be from. I hated the weather. So in 1974, a couple buddies and I left gray skies and forty-two degrees up north and came to Fort Lauderdale for spring break. I was in heaven.

Jeff and Bob 81.

When I got home, I convinced Dad to let me attend Broward Community College.

They had a great air-conditioning design program, taught by old-timer, local consulting engineers who really knew their stuff.

I graduated with an associate degree and looked for a job in Fort Lauderdale—no more miserable winters for me! As luck would have it, Hill York had an opening for an entry-level project engineer. So I interviewed with Pete Goetzman.

I didn’t know much about building and construction, but because of my education, I did know a little about air conditioning. Again, as luck would have it, Pete liked me and hired me.

On September 9, 1977, I came onboard and never looked back. And as for the American Dream? I’m living it as a Hill Yorker for life.

Being a Hill Yorker for life means you’re part of a company larger than yourself—a company that supports American values: pride of workmanship, conscientiousness, accountability, communication, and innovation—a company that gives you the freedom to be the best you can be.

82.

HILL YORKERS FOR LIFE SPEAK UP

John Cancel says . . .

The Hill York Way

I

’ve been a Hill Yorker since 1988—that’s twenty-eight years. I worked my way up to vice president of engineering. I’ll tell you a story I call The Hill York Way.

I was engineer and project manager on one of my first projects. The project was huge—a very big deal. I was proud when it was finished, but more important I was amazed by the help and mentoring I got from Hill Yorkers.

Hill Yorkers taught me a couple things: One, this was what I wanted to do. Two, Hill York was the company I wanted to do it for. And that’s how I set my career path and became a Hill Yorker for life.

Being a Hill Yorker for life isn’t just about big projects—it’s about day-today life. Sure, your pay check is important, but working for Hill York isn’t just about your paycheck.

Hill Yorkers are a team—a good bunch of people who have awesome dedication, commitment, knowledge, and work quality. Without them I would not—could not—succeed.

That’s the Hill York way.

Team Hill York 83.

Linda Nelson says . . .

We Are Family

I

do billing for service in South Florida and West Palm Beach. I start work at 5:30 a.m. and love every minute of every day. I’m proud to tell you I’ve been a Hill Yorker for life for twenty-three years.

Hill Yorkers are family. And that comes straight down from the gracious Lafferty family. Life and Hill York is not about THEM. It’s about YOU. Mr. Lafferty is proud of Hill York, and that trickles down to Chip, and that trickles down to Hill Yorkers.

They want Hill Yorkers to excel (and we do!) because that makes our customers happy. Happy customers make Hill York successful.

Mickey Mueller says . . .

Whatever It Takes!

I

’ve been a Hill Yorker for life since 1993—that’s twenty-three years. I started as a field technician, became a project manager, and eventually got into sales, so my official title is HVAC consultant. I’ll tell you a story I call Whatever It Takes!

Hurricane Wilma took out hundreds of cooling towers. One of my building managers called and said, “Mickey, I know you’re busy beyond busy. But is there anything you can do to replace the fill in my building’s tower?”

Fill is plastic, and because everybody and their brother needed fill, it wasn’t available.

Come to find out, a gentleman in the building got a hold of plastic milk crates.

Bingo! Plastic milk crates worked as fill until we got the real deal.

Hill Yorkers will do whatever it takes to get the job done and keep the customer happy. That leads to camaraderie. And camaraderie leads to more good times than I can count.

85.

Herb Dell says . . .

Loyalty

Cradle-to-Grave Mentality

M

y favorite Hill York memory is the day Bob asked me to be president. I knew that meant I had to sign on the bottom line as a fiduciary and personally guarantee Hill York’s bonds—if anything went wrong my personal estate was at risk. But I wasn’t concerned because the bonding company had never called in a bond—it still hasn’t.

I was a partner, so I can tell you all Hill York’s partners are Hill Yorkers for life. We believe in Hill York and step up to nurture other Hill Yorkers and help them grow— if somebody makes a mistake, we don’t cut the cord and fire them. We invest our time and talents to make sure Hill York continues to be the best air-conditioning company in South Florida.

Hill York has a cradle-to-grave mentality. Lots of companies aspire to this notion, but Hill York makes it work. How? There is an expectation of loyalty—loyalty from the company to Hill Yorkers and loyalty from Hill Yorkers to the company.

It all starts with hiring decisions. Hill York looks at the person—his or her personal qualities—more than the specific skills. People are who they are. Skills can be learned.

86.

Mark Kerney says . . .

Different

M

illennials, listen up. We know you can choose from hundreds of airconditioning companies in South Florida.

But Hill York is different, and we know you are different. We know you don’t expect to stay with the same company, doing the same job, until you get your gold watch and ride off into the sunset.

We never pigeonhole you. Instead, we challenge you. We offer learning opportunities. We listen. We work with you individually to accommodate your schedule.

We treat you like the most important person on the planet.

Why? We want you, Mr. or Ms. Excited, Smart, and Talented Millennial, to stick around and become a Hill Yorker for life.

Millennials, listen up!

87.

Bill Davell says . . .

Remarkable

I

’ve been Hill York’s outside attorney and a close friend of the Laffertys for thirtyfour years. That gives me the right and privilege to testify about Hill York and the Laffertys. They’re both remarkable.

Over the years, we fought many legal battles—big and small. I swear on a stack of Bibles that, never once, was Hill York found deficient in labor or materials. They were usually named in the litigation because they were a subcontractor on big projects.

It’s an incredible experience to take depositions from people the caliber of Bob Lafferty, Chip Lafferty, Mark Kerney, Jeff Phillabaum, Herb Dell, and Pete Goetzman.

Why? I’m confident they did the right thing, and when push comes to shove, I never need wonder about their testimonies.

For instance, starting about 2001, almost every condominium in South Florida was in litigation. For years, the law firm representing the condominiums used the same engineering firm as an expert witness. As time passed, Pete and Herb observed the air-conditioning deficiencies were the same for every condo.

When they were questioned under oath, they stood strong about the various aspects of Hill York’s design and installation. And they were right. Eventually, primarily because they demonstrated the expert witness was wrong, condo defect investigations became a thing of the past.

I’ll tell you a story few people know about Bob Lafferty: Frequently, condominium developers and owners wanted Hill York to install an open system because it saved money. Bob knew open systems don’t work in coastal installations. So he stepped up and wrote the book—a long dissertation—about problems open systems cause.

When developers and owners still insisted, Bob sent them a certified letter explaining why Hill York couldn’t be held responsible.

88.

90.

Danny Gann says . . .

Honorary Hill Yorker

I

’m a bond agent. Briefly, a bond agent is a credit analyst, banker, CPA, salesperson, and quasi-lawyer rolled into one package. I met the Laffertys thirty years ago. At the time, I was a corporate vice president for a surety company, responsible for writing Hill York’s bonds. When I became an agent, Bob and Chip asked me to continue writing Hill York’s bonds. I jumped on it, and they made me an honorary Hill Yorker for life.

You can look far and wide, but you’ll never find a better family than the Laffertys.

They’re all top-drawer people. I’m blessed to have a meaningful, long-term relationship with the entire family. I’m blessed to call them “friends.”

The Laffertys are humble. They never brag. So I will tell you about them. They are warm and sincere. They stick to the Golden Rule. The entire family works hard.

They look for the good in people. The long-term tenure of Hill Yorkers is a perfect example. Hill Yorkers stick around because they’re recognized—because they’re members of the Lafferty’s extended family.

e Lafferty Family

It’s difficult to describe Bob Lafferty in words. But the first that come to mind are: warm, nice, fun, funny. Lest I forget he’s a great golfer. Bob passed his strong Christian values on to his children, and they pass them on to their children.

Bob and Chip are intelligent. They think outside the proverbial box and change as the market changes. Chip is an innovator extraordinaire—always thinking—always making Hill York better. To use a buzz phrase, Chip is all over “continuous improvement.” But he doesn’t just talk about it. He does it. And he passes the concept down to his boys. When Chip’s boys see how their granddad and their dad conduct themselves, they do their very best.

Over the years, I’ve dealt with hundreds of companies, so I can tell you up close and personal many younger generations feel entitled. They think: I was born with a silver spoon. Why should I work hard? I guarantee you this is NOT what Chip’s boys believe.

No matter what path they choose, they will make things happen. If their path happens to be Hill York, they will follow the Lafferty tradition of growth and prosperity.

Bob Lafferty: Hill Yorkers love that guy!

Charlie Ewing says . . .

Magnet

I

started working at Hill York when I was twenty-four years old. Over the next twenty-four years, I worked my way up to executive vice president of service and maintenance and am proud to tell you I’m a Hill Yorker for life.

I’ve seen many, many things and worked with many, many people. But Bob Lafferty tops it all. Hill Yorkers love that guy. They love just being around him. Even today, when he comes into the office, he’s a magnet—people flock to him.

I’ll always remember the day twenty of us sat in a meeting talking about a slow market and wondering how Hill York could make it through tough times. Everybody wore a “Debbie-downer” look.

All of a sudden, Mr. Lafferty broke out in a hymn. He didn’t sing out of a book. He sang from his heart. And it was beautiful.

93.

BEST OF THE BEST

Chip says . . .

Great Ride

D

ad stepped up to lead Hill York in 1964. For the next forty years, he took the helm. I climbed aboard, officially, around 1984. For the next twenty years, I was blessed to learn from the best of the best—my dad.

It was—and still is—a great ride.

96.

YESTERDAY AND TODAY

Bob says . . .

Enough Already

W

hen it came time for my watch, Hill York had a very different business model than it does today. We had several individually owned sales offices, spread across South Florida. The dealers—reps—were responsible for their own territories.

They bought equipment exclusively from two manufacturers—C.V. Hill Company and York Corporation—and sold it to their customers.

Eventually, Hill and York went around the reps and sold directly to customers. That didn’t work for me. I said, “Enough already,” and ended our exclusive relationships.

Then I made deals with Trane, Carrier, Lennox, McQuay, Goodman—all the big boys. But I was smart. I didn’t cut off our nose to spite our face and kept our deals with Hill and York. With a bunch of manufacturers onboard, we had—and still have— many choices. We weigh manufacturers’ advantages and disadvantages, for each job, and purchase from the one that best fits our customer’s needs.

Over time, individual reps closed up shop, and we ended up with main offices in Miami and Fort Lauderdale—I ran Miami and Charlie Daniels ran Fort Lauderdale.

During the early ’80s, Charlie’s health failed, so we combined Miami and Fort Lauderdale, and I headed the whole shebang.

Chip says . . .

TWO COMPANIES

The Dumpster

W

hen it came time for my watch, we had two companies. Hill York Service Corporation provided service; Mark Kerney was president. Hill York Corporation did construction; Jeff Phillabaum was president.

The two companies were both Hill York. They were housed in the same building and shared rent and other amenities. You probably think this was a match made in heaven. Think again. They protected their own bottom lines, were over the moon competitive, and fought like cats and dogs over this, that, and everything.

99.

I’ll never forget the dumpster: It cost four hundred bucks a month to dump the dumpster.

Every month, service shouted, “No way did we use half a dumpster. We’re only paying a hundred bucks.”

Every month, construction shot back, “What the hell are you talking about? You used three-quarters. You owe three hundred bucks.”

Dad was chairman of the board, but I was president of both companies, so my job was to referee and make the call. I had bigger fish to fry than a darn dumpster. So every month, I said, “Both of you! Shut up! Pay your two hundred bucks and move on!” That worked—until the next month rolled around.

Work Smarter

I

ssues were far more complicated than a dumpster. We had two payrolls, two sets of receivables, and two profit centers. We even had a physical wall separating the two businesses. Then there were the mental walls: Who works for whom? Who goes where, when? Who gets what? That was not a healthy environment for our customers. We had to work smarter.

100.

Chip says . . .

PROMISE

Finally

M

ark, Jeff, and I held countless meetings. Finally, with their encouragement and support, I decided we needed one company.

Still, this decision was revolutionary on many levels.

We had to deal with separate, distinct personalities and separate, distinct modes of operation. Then it took over a year to work through legalities, marketing, and announcements. Finally, in 2008, we merged into Hill York One—Good Ole Hill York.

That was the best business decision I ever made. It made sense. When the two organizations came together and fought for a common cause, everybody got a slice of the pie. From that point on, we grew Hill York big time.

But no matter how fast, or how far, Hill York grows, some things will never change. We’ll always be a family-owned company that has fun and practices Christian values. Promise.

Mark says . . .

THE LAUNCH

The Crowd Went Wild

W

hen good things happen to good people, they deserve to celebrate. Chip is full of imaginative ideas—as soon as Hill York One was official, he hit it out of the park—literally.

Chip, Bob, Joan, Jeff, and I visited each office, one at a time. Chip made a huge show of donning goggles and a hardhat. He grabbed a Louisville slugger bat and took a couple practice swings.

The back door flew open. A team wheeled out an ice sculpture, whipped off its drape, and revealed an enormous number two. Chip swung his bat and smashed it to smithereens.

Chip announced Hill York One, we handed Hill Yorkers a huge number one foam finger, and invited them to sign an “I’m in!” board. The crowd went wild.

Our pep rally was all about fun and flare. Everybody was pumped. But it symbolized a serious change that strengthened Hill York as a company, better served our customers, and improved opportunities for Hill Yorkers.

102.

HILL YORK’S LOGO Bob says . . .

Sacred

M

y uncle, Harold Anderson, designed Hill York’s logo.

He was a draftsman and an artist. I told him what I wanted. He sat at his drawing board, picked up his T-square and compass, and created it.

Our logo is red, white, and blue—a perfect double circle, with dips in exact places. I can spot even tiny discrepancies from a mile away.

If anybody tries to use a knockoff, coworkers cringe and say, “Before that goes out to the public, you’d better change it. If Mr. Lafferty sees it, he’ll bite your head off.” And I will.

Our logo is sacred.

106.

GO TEAM! Bob says . . .

Cartoon Characters

A

round 1993, we decided we needed more than a logo. So I went to work and created a team of cartoon characters. We call them “The Cool Guys.”

The Cool Guys help us stand out from the crowd. They remind customers and potential customers Hill Yorkers are the best of the best—experienced, bright, energetic, creative folks who love to have fun.

We’re so proud of The Cool Guys we invited them to sit at the board table when we were named Commercial Contractor of the Year, in 2000.

The Cool Guys help us stand out from the crowd.

108.

Fast Duct

F

ast Duct was first. He’s my favorite. Fast Duct is running.

He’s grinning. He’s happy to be a Hill Yorker. Back in the day, our duct department made Hill York successful in the condominium market.

Take a look at the high-rise apartment buildings in Dade, Broward, and Palm Beach Counties. Probably ninety-five percent are fitted with Hill York’s fiberglass and sheet metal work.

That’s quite a feat—even if I say so myself!

Quick Vic

Q

uick Vic was next. He’s a big, strong, happy, hustling pipefitter who flat out gets the job done on time and under budget. Quick Vic holds an orange fitting called a “Victaulic fitting.” Victaulic fittings are mechanical joints lined with rubber gaskets that eliminate the need for extensive welding.

Basically, they save time and money.

109.

Zip Tech I told contestants I didn’t

W

hen I decided we needed a character to represent Hill York’s service technicians, I went to the Fort Lauderdale Art Institute and announced Hill York was holding a contest to create the newest Cool Guy. The winner would be awarded three hundred bucks.

really care what the character was. Then, just before I walked out the door, I stopped. I said, “By the way, I don’t want to influence you, but I did graduate from the University of Florida, and I am a Gator through and through.”

All entries were good. But guess which one won?

110.

Brainstorm

I

thought our team was complete. It wasn’t.

Hill Yorkers who worked in accounting, administration, engineering, even management weren’t happy. “HEY! What about us? You created a character for every other department.

Why did you leave us out?”

That’s when I created Brainstorm—a wise owl, Who-o-o, Who-o-o comes up with bright ideas.

Bob with Brainstorm

111.

Different

N

ot long after Fast Duct was born, we created an entire marketing campaign around him. He even had his very own comic book. We didn’t want our customers to think we were Looney Tunes. We just wanted them to recognize that Hill York is special—different.

Hill Yorkers are dedicated to one thing—our customers’ air-conditioning needs. Just ask The Cool Guys!

PRICELESS Bob says . . .

Famous Worldwide

T

he Cool Guys soon became famous worldwide. Mort Walker is one of the most wellknown cartoonists in the world—he created Beetle Bailey and Hi and Lois. In 1989, he was inducted into the Cartoon Hall of Fame.

One morning, Chip got Mort on the phone, and while we were talking, Mort drew a Beetle Bailey cartoon of The Cool Guys. His cartoon still hangs in our history room. It’s priceless.

114.

SCREWY INDUSTRY Bob says . . .

It Happens

A

ir conditioning is a screwy industry. Our major competitors are Hill Yorkers we trained and groomed before they left to start their own air-conditioning businesses.

Hill York has bred more entrepreneurs than any other company in South Florida.

The guys who leave all have moxie. Many have rich uncles who coughed up a couple hundred thousand bucks start-up capital. Some went on to develop well-known, successful companies. Some are still Hill York wannabes. Then there are a zillion one-truck guys.

I love it, and I hate it. But it happens. I would never stop guys willing to take a risk to better themselves and their families. After all, they learned their trade from us, and they have fond memories of working at Hill York. We’re proud of them. But they are out to get our business.

Then there are the big manufacturers—Trane, York, Carrier—they sell to us, so we are their customer. They also sell directly to our customers, so they are our competitors. Contractors should have banded together years ago and refused to buy from companies that competed. But as they say, “That’s history.”

Anyway, Chip started an initiative he calls “CHAMP.” I predict it will make all Hill Yorkers better—even those who leave.

118.

CHAMP Chip says . . .

Dreams

O

ur current company culture started in 2008, during the Beijing Summer Olympics. We picked up on the notion that everybody dreams about being an Olympic gold medalist—a champ. So we themed and branded Hill Yorkers as comfort champs. The acronym is CHAMP.

119.

CHAMP C stands for care. Caring starts from the moment we pick up the phone. Our tone of voice says, “We care. We’ll do whatever it takes to help.”

H stands for help. Customers call because they have a problem. We’re really, really good at solving problems. We fix air conditioners better than anyone.

But we don’t stop with air conditioners—the more complicated the problem, the better. No matter what it takes, we can and do solve customers’ problems.

A stands for added value. When we add value, we give customers a WOW experience. A WOW experience means we go above and beyond what we’re asked to do. That might mean stopping at 7-Eleven and buying a cold drink for a hot customer; cleaning a nasty, dirty equipment room; calling a supply shop at 4:45 on Friday afternoon and convincing them to stay open until you can get there to pick up a part so your customer isn’t hot and bothered until Monday morning; taking chicken soup to a sick Hill Yorker. Whatever it takes, do it.

M stands for mindshare. Caring, helping, and adding value equals building relationships and earning customers’ mindshare. And when we earn customers’ mindshare, guess who they’ll call next time they have a problem?

P stands for partner. Once we’ve gained customers’ mindshare they become long-term partners. Partners tell others about us. They advocate for us. That makes our phone ring. Then we start the process all over again.

120.

Who pays for this? I do. I can rent a billboard that says “Call Hill York NOW!” Or I can create CHAMPs. Both approaches cost money. But billboards fade. CHAMPs create customers for life.

Bob and Comfort CHAMP Brian Haber Our CHAMP board is filled with many great stories about Hill Yorkers who follow the principles. Once a quarter, we put names in a hat and hold a drawing. The winner receives a nice gift. Last quarter we had one thousand entries. That’s living proof: Hill Yorkers are, indeed, CHAMPs.

ADDED VALUE Jeff says . . .

Got Your Back

C

HAMP principles work together, but I want to tell you specifically about added value. Hill York is not the lowest priced air-conditioning company in South Florida, but we bring more added value than anyone. Number one, we’re South Florida’s oldest, largest, most experienced air-conditioning contractor. Number two, unlike other companies that do plumbing and process piping, our forte is solely air conditioning.

122.

Why is that important? South Florida’s environment is unique in that it has high humidity and unusual ambient air conditions. So designing air-conditioning systems here requires unique skills. That’s what we do. That’s our specialty.

In addition, we’re a full-service, cradle-to-grave, contractor. Other companies do installation and construction, but they sub out the energy piece, service, and/or maintenance.

But from design, to installation, to tracking performance, to service, Hill York’s got your back.

PARTNERS Jeff says...

Circle of Life

P

, for partner, is the last letter in CHAMP, but in some ways, it’s the most important. Hill York’s customers are not customers. They’re partners. If we tried to win work solely on low bids, we’d get beat up and spiral down.

Hill York never looks at a single job. We look at relationships; relationships lead to partners; partners lead to referrals; referrals lead to new partners. It’s the circle of life. Just ask a CHAMP.

Palm Beach Atlantic University

P

alm Beach Atlantic University (PBA) is a perfect partner. For yours truly, it started in 1977, when Pete Goetzman hired me as an inexperienced project engineer. Pete had a full beard and used a slide rule, primarily to impress us young guys. He was tough, but he took me by the hand and taught me how partners become partners.

On November 20, 1998, Palm Beach Atlantic dedicated the Peter Goetzman Energy Plant.

Pete passed on January 16, 1994, so he wasn’t there to celebrate. But I was more than honored to pay tribute to my boss, mentor, and friend.

124.

Pete Goetzman (far right) In part, I said, “The Peter Goetzman Energy Plant is a very fitting project to honor Pete and bear his name.

Basically, the project consisted of providing energy and system upgrades to the East Campus by centralizing the chilled water plant, in an effort to provide substantial energy savings, while creating a better working environment.

The bulk of the work was to install approximately one mile of eight-inch steel pipe throughout the courtyard to connect each of the three existing chilled water loops at Borbe Hall, MacArthur Hall, and Student Services. These buildings were, then, served with chilled water from the central plant. This provided a much-needed equipment upgrade to the heart of the air-conditioning system.

The Construction Association of South Florida awarded Hill York and Scott Mitchell the Craftsmanship of the Year Award for outstanding craftsmanship for pipefitting.

Many projects are submitted for this prestigious award. We’re happy to bring it home for you, PBA, and your partner, Peter Goetzman.”

125.

Bob says . . .

Great Pelican Fisherman

P

artners are partners—I’ll tell you a story about how they put up with each other through thick and thin: I used to own a twenty-foot outboard fishing boat. One morning, I invited my good friend, Bill Fleming, president of Palm Beach Atlantic University, and Chris Hurta, minister at First Baptist Church, to go fishing in Port Everglades.

We sat there and sat there. No fish. I moved the boat. No fish. I moved the boat again.

No fish. It was hot. Bill and Chris rattled off a hundred other things they’d rather be doing. I was ready to head to shore when Bill hollered, “I got one! I got one!”

“Reel it in.”

“It’s heavy. I can’t.”

“Sit down! We’re gonna turn over.”

I grabbed onto Bill’s pole, and between the two of us we managed to reel in something big, and that something was tangled up in his line.

“What the heck is that?” Bill said.

Chris took off his sunglasses. He poked the something. “Looks like a pelican to me.”

Pelicans have lice. No way was I going to touch it. I guess Chris figured he was closer to God than Lafferty and yanked out the hook.

To this day, I call Bill, “The great pelican fisherman.”

I sat on PBA’s board for twenty years. In January 2017, they made me chairman emeritus. So it all worked out just fine.

126.

127.

Chip says . . .

First Concern

D

uring Hill York’s lifetime, Florida’s been hit by twenty hurricanes—all Cat 3 or above. Like it or not, Hill Yorkers are hurricane CHAMPs.

After a hurricane hits, Hill Yorkers are my first concern. During the first twenty-four hours, our satellite phone is manned by a network of Hill Yorkers who check on other Hill Yorkers—Are you safe? Are you okay? Do you need help? Then we dig into our stockpile of plywood, gas, tarps, and generators and provide anything and everything they need to survive the immediate aftermath and rebuild their lives.

Hurricane Andrew

I

n 1992, Andrew—a Cat 5 big boy—devastated South Florida. No phones. No power.

No water. Downed trees blocked streets and highways. Even Publix closed. True to course, during the first twenty-four hours, we helped Hill Yorkers.

Then at 8 a.m., on day two, after the first shock was over, Walter Banks, owner of Lago Mar Resort, showed up on our doorstep. “Chip,” he said, “we’re lucky to have power, but we don’t have air conditioning, and I’ve got a hotel full of hot, cranky guests. Any way you can help?”

“We’re on it. And what else do you need?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean how else can we help you?”

He looked at me like I grew a second nose. “Well, a third of my roof blew off. You don’t happen to have extra tarps and plywood?”

I said, “What if I send ten guys and fifty tarps to your place in an hour?”

“Like REALLY???”

“Like REALLY!!!”

You’d better believe Walter Banks is Hill York’s customer for life.

129.

Linda says . . .

Hurricane Wilma

W

hen Hurricane Wilma hit in 2005, there was no place to hide. Its wide wake reduced buildings to rubble in Broward, Miami-Dade, and Palm Beach counties. South Florida has weathered way too many hurricanes, but Wilma was the worst in over half a century.

Three million homes and businesses lost power and were without water for days.

Residents, even hospitals, evacuated. To make evacuation worse than worse, Wilma punched a huge sinkhole in Interstate 95.

But Hill Yorkers came through as a team. Within hours, we gathered in the office and developed a plan. Everybody had a job. Everybody jumped to action. Mark and an electrician threw tarps over their heads and braved the wind and rain to hook up a generator and power up our building; some went out and secured homes; some scoured the area for an open grocery store; I bagged sandwiches; Chip flipped burgers; mechanics arrived almost before it was humanly possible, and we fed them breakfast, before they went out to fix roof equipment.

This was before CHAMP was officially part of our culture, but Hill Yorkers have always been ahead of the times.

LIFELONG CUSTOMERS Chip says . . .

Pride and Joy

C

ustomer service is wicked hard. It’s constant and continuous. It takes training.

It gets down to little stuff that becomes big stuff that makes customers remember us. We reinvent ourselves every day, so we can stay ahead of the three thousand other air-conditioning companies in South Florida. I’m proud to tell you customer service is CHAMPs’ pride and joy.

Entire Army

H

ill York has many lifelong customers. Why? Customers can count on CHAMPs, and they can count on me. Big customers, small customers, all customers have a direct line to me—the owner who cares—the owner who can and does solve their problems.

If a customer has a problem with a big-boy, national-brand manufacturer, who are they going to call? On a good day, they might get a local branch manager, who has no real authority. Plus, Trane knows Trane; Carrier knows Carrier; and on down the line. But Hill York knows all manufacturers. No matter whose equipment a customer owns or what problem he’s having, I take care of it fast, at a lower cost, and with full authority.

Hill York has a 24/7 call-in number. Your call never goes to some guy in India who barely speaks English. When you’re hot and bothered the last thing you need is some techno-geek to make you feel like an idiot.

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After normal business hours, the technician on call picks up and helps you decide if you want him to come immediately or wait until eight o’clock Monday morning, when you won’t be charged overtime. One way or another—Saturday, Sunday, holidays, the middle of the night—a trained Hill York technician will show up and fix your problem.

Hill York technicians have depth and diversity—there’s an entire army waiting just to help you. You’ll never be told, “Sorry. Our technician is on vacation.” And I guarantee every guy in our army is at the top of his game.

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BEST AD EVER Mark says . . .

Customers Love CHAMPs

I

t’s hard to imagine, but during the ’50s air conditioning was such a new concept most homes weren’t air conditioned. So Hill York spent a ton of money advertising. During a single week in 1957, the advertising tab came in at around three thousand bucks—almost twenty-eight thousand dollars, in today’s currency. That was a chunk of change.

Hill Yorker CHAMPs make a bigger splash than any newspaper or radio ad. Today, we don’t spend a dime on traditional advertising. Our name and logo are well recognized; our website tells our story; our trucks are rolling billboards.

We have over a hundred and fifty panel vans in our fleet. They’re our signature— our brand. We’re very particular about their paint job. It’s perfect. Logos aren’t cut out of vinyl and slapped on. They’re painted on by hand with reflective paint. We spend lots of money making our trucks look good, but it’s worth every penny.

Each technician is CEO of his own truck—a truck he’s proud to park in his driveway.

He’s confident his truck is better than a truck from any other company in South Florida.

When a service call comes into headquarters, he receives an electronic work order populated with details. He touches a screen, and his GPS kicks in, directing him to the location. His truck is a workshop on wheels. If the problem goes beyond a normal fix, he’s empowered to drive to a parts warehouse and buy whatever he needs.

The best ad ever is our reputation—close to ninety-nine percent of our customers come from referrals; around seventy-five percent have been with us over ten years. Customers love Hill York’s CHAMPs, and CHAMPs love our customers for spreading the word.

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HYStat Chip says . . .

Revolutionary

C

HAMPs play many roles. One of my favorites is to improve technology. Our industry is slow to adopt new technologies. But I’m a techno-geek guy, always dreaming up new ideas. Once I get an idea, I travel all over the country to find the best software and products to support it. Then we build it. The technology Hill York just launched is called “HYStat.”

HYStat is hybrid—half computer, half thermostat. I monitor your system 24/7, and when there’s a problem, I get an alert and figure out what’s wrong. Maybe your condenser is malfunctioning. So I call you and advise you to turn off your unit before you have a sloppy mess in your hundred-thousand-square-foot office building. After the immediate crisis is under control, I dispatch service.

HYStat is revolutionary. It will change our industry.

GOLD MEDAL PARTNERS Chip says . . .

Special

E

very customer is important to CHAMPs. But twice a year we create a list of commercial customers we call “Gold Medal Partners.” The program supports our business model: Eighty percent of our profits come from twenty percent of our customers. So we take extra care to WOW them in gold-medal fashion.

In true Olympic style, we orchestrate a grand-opening ceremony, where we roll out a huge cake, and announce, “Congratulations! YOU are a Gold Medal Partner. YOU are special. YOU rate special treatment.”

Special treatment includes responding to their calls within two hours, billing them within twenty-four hours, inviting them to special events, and acknowledging them with bi-annual visits from our executive team.

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MAKE LEMONADE Chip says . . .

Easy to Be Me

A

s nice as we are, customers don’t call us to say everything in their air conditioning world is perfect—they just don’t. They call us to say their air conditioner isn’t working. But CHAMPs solve their problem. Like Dad says, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”

I give Hill Yorker CHAMPs full credit, because by the time the problem gets to me, three or four good people are already on it, and it’s eighty percent resolved. All I do is ride in on my white horse and say, “Don’t worry. Everything is fine.” And that’s all customers need to hear.

Thank you, CHAMPs. You make it easy to be me!

MATH Bob says . . .

Teacher’s Pet

Y

ou probably think a ton of air conditioning weighs a ton. It doesn’t. And in my book (this one!) it’s important to understand why a ton of air conditioning doesn’t weigh a ton. I’ll explain. But first I need to back up—way back to my childhood.

I went to Tatem Elementary School in Haddonfield, New Jersey. I was nearsighted, so I had to wear glasses and sit in the first row. Actually, that was a good deal because before long I was teacher’s pet. Mrs. Siebert, my sixth-grade teacher, put up with a wild bunch. I can’t tell you how many times she said, “Class! Show respect! Why can’t you ALL behave like Bob Lafferty?”

I didn’t like geography. Why should I learn about Germany and other places clear on the other side of the world? (I had no idea I’d visit Germany one day.) But I always did my best. We earned two grades—satisfactory and unsatisfactory. I always got satisfactory.

I really liked math. Even when I was a kid, I knew I could use math anywhere, for anything. And I did. Math is the foundation of my career.

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PUT BOBBY TO WORK Bob says . . .

Promoted

B

y the time I got to junior high, I was just a skinny little kid, but I knew I wanted to be a Hill Yorker. Dad agreed. He drove me to the office and said, “Put Bobby to work. Don’t favor him. Let’s see if he’s cut out for this business. Have him sweep the floor.” Just like that I was a fifty-cents-an-hour floor sweeper.

Once I got the hang of floor sweeping, Dad decided I could clean algae out of cooling towers—the nastiest job known to mankind.

Eventually, I was promoted to all-around helper and assigned to a crew that installed a cooling tower on the roof of a ten-story building.

First day on the job, first thing in the morning, I asked the boss man, “What time does the crane get here?”

“Crane? What crane? There ain’t no crane comin.”

“But, sir, please tell me how the cooling tower gets to the roof.”

My boss looked at me like I had two heads. “Gets to the roof?

How do you think it gets to the roof? YOU. HAUL. IT.” I fell in with six other guys. We grabbed hold and manhandled a nine-hundred-pound cooling tower up ten flights of fire stairs.

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Bobby Around 1948

GATOR THROUGH AND THROUGH Bob says . . .

Three Reasons

I

graduated high school in 1952 and had in mind I’d attend the university and study engineering. But I enjoyed working at Hill York so wasn’t in a big hurry to fill out my application.

One morning, I was assigned to a crew in downtown Miami, on Flagler Street. Our job was to install a hundred-ton cooling tower. I kept up with the other guys and felt good about myself—until I ran smack into a four-inch pipe. Blood poured down my face. The foreman hauled me to the doctor. Doc took one look, injected me with Novocain, took eight stitches under my right eye, and sent me home.

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My poor mother was in shock. And me? Well, I decided I’d better get moving on my plan to become an engineer, because I’d never make it as a mechanic.

The very next week I applied to University of Florida’s engineering school. I selected UF for three reasons: it had (and still has) a fine engineering school; the price was right ($45 a semester); it had (and still has) a great football team. I wasn’t good enough to play football, but I was a Gator then, and I’m still a Gator through and through.

143.

SLIDE RULE Bob says . . .

I Can Do It All

S

o there I was: a student in UF’s mechanical engineering program. I’d watched Hill York’s engineers use T-squares, triangles, and tables. I’d flipped through lots of engineering books. But I’d never learned to use a slide rule. During the ’50s, the only way to solve an engineering problem was with a slide rule. So I learned.

Dad and Bob, UF Graduation, 1956

Bob and Mom, UF Graduation, 1956

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Slide rules help you solve all kinds of problems. You can do easy stuff—add, subtract, multiply, and divide. You can do complex stuff—trigonometry, and common and natural logarithms. You can even use the Pythagorean Theorem to figure sides of triangles, circumference of circles, and calculate hyperbolic functions. I can do it all.

During the ’60s, engineers discovered hand-held calculators. Then during the late ’70s, computers were all the rage. There’s nothing wrong with calculators or computers, but I still use my trusty UF slide rule.

THERMODYNAMICS Bob says . . .

Lab Report

H

ere’s something that will surprise you: When I was a mechanical engineering student, I took classes in algebra, calculus, physics, linear differential equations, and even combustion engines. But I only took ONE air-conditioning class—thermodynamics.

I studied hard for that class. My studying paid off—I graduated with a 2.6 overall grade-point average, but I got an 8.5 on my thermodynamics lab report.

REAL STORY Bob says . . .

Darn Smart

A

nd that brings me to teaching you about a ton of air conditioning. That term gets bantered around, but the average palooka doesn’t know what it means.

Think about it: Let’s say an air-conditioning unit produces three thousand tons of cooling. The unit couldn’t weigh three thousand tons because the building would collapse.

Here’s the real story: A ton of air conditioning is all about measuring heat. I memorized the definition I underlined in my UF air-conditioning text book—the airconditioning Bible: Latent heat is energy released or absorbed, by a body or a thermodynamic system, during a constant-temperature process. During the cooling cycle, condensation forms within the unit due to the removal of latent heat from the air. Sensible heat (heat that causes a change in an object’s temperature) is the capacity required to lower the temperature, and latent capacity is the capacity to remove the moisture from the air.

In layman’s terms, a ton of air conditioning is how much heat the air conditioning unit can remove from a room in one hour. It is measured in British thermal units— BTUs. One ton of air conditioning can remove 12,000 BTUs of heat per hour.

So there you have it. Now YOU can explain a ton of air conditioning. You’re no longer the average palooka.

You’re darn smart!

147.

The Olden Days

F

or centuries, humans tried to outsmart the weather. It all started back in the second century, when Roman aqueducts pumped cool water through villa walls.

Brilliant—until thirsty rats gnawed through timbers.

During the third century, Roman emperor, Elagabalus, ordered slaves to drive a donkey train to the mountains and return with a load of snow, intended to cool the palace during blistering Roman summers. Elagabalus was assassinated for his oddities.

Around 1472, Leonardo da Vinci was commissioned to design a machine to cool Duchess Beatrice d’Este’s boudoir. Let’s just say da Vinci’s Mona Lisa is way more famous than his canvas-covered waterwheel that scooped up river-cooled air and leave it at that.

In 1811, famed-chemist, Sir Humphry Davy, took a stab at ventilating Great Britain’s miserably hot, foul smelling House of Lords. But when his reversible blowing wheel forced a gaseous evacuation, the Lords sent him packing.

A few years later, Azel S. Lyman rolled out a refrigerated bed. Its intent was to cool the sleeper and absorb “disgusting gasses.” Mr. Lyman placed a classified ad in Scientific American soliciting salesmen. He didn’t get a single taker.

150.

Butt Sweating

H

omemade remedies—wet willow branches, buckwheat pillows, mud plasters, rice-filled socks—were useless. Heatstroke victims were bled with leeches, rubbed with mustard, injected with brandy, and doused with turpentine enemas.

But “butt sweating” was a way of life. Human beings weren’t created to interfere with Divine Providence.

National Emergency

W

hen, in July 1881, an assassin shot President James Garfield, a team of six distinguished physicians struggled with White House temperatures that flirted with the hundred-degree mark. When the “NATIONAL EMERGENCY!!!” story broke in the Washington Post, inventors suggested everything from an oversized ice box to a reconfigured fire engine. Within days, the White House basement was jampacked with useless boilers, pipes, cables, and even a wheezing locomotive.

At wits end, White House officials contacted the famous mathematician-astronomer, Simon Newcomb. Professor Newcomb created an electric-powered fan that blew air through a maze of tin pipes into a huge box that consumed 436 pounds of ice—an hour. It was too late to save President Garfield. He died in September 1881.

That’s not the end of the story: The Independent Ice Company invoiced the White House $40,000 ($1,144,000 in today’s dollars) to cover over half-a-million pounds of ice. Chalk that up to “fair business practices.”

There’s more: After Charles Guiteau, Garfield’s assassin, was executed, a refrigeration-equipment entrepreneur approached the Guiteau family. For a reasonable fee, he would preserve Charles’ body and exhibit it in cities from Atlantic to Pacific. Chalk that up to “ghoulish.”

152.

The Buzz

D

uring the mid-1800s, Americans fell in love with fans. But fans came with their own set of problems. The first table-top electric fan, with its exposed metal blades, revolving at 2,000 rpm, was deadly—at least for those who could shell out twenty bucks (about $475 in today’s dollars) for what was nicknamed “the buzz.”

Ma Bell

A

round 1895, the Chicago Telephone Company—Ma Bell—jumped on the technology train. Ma Bell’s mega-heat-generating switchboard equipment was crammed into a room on the top floor of its central office, adjacent to the dusty Washington Street tunnel, a block away from the Chicago River and its smoke-belching tugboats. Dust, dirt, smoke, and humidity played havoc with delicate phone jacks.

Opening windows wasn’t an option. Neither were 400 irate customers—per day.

The phone company’s top brass “solved” their problem by installing a large rotary fan, fitted with three rows of atomizers that discharged a cloud of spray and eliminated dirt particles.

When operators (“hello girls”) realized their room would be closed off by a doublelocked door and their windows would be caulked shut, they panicked. When water from outlets mounted on the ceiling dripped on their heads, they mutinied. Ma Bell reverted to electric fans.

Turn on the Cold!

A

lfred R. Wolff was a boy genius. When he was 16, he graduated top in his class of steam engineers from Stevens Institute of Technology. Shortly thereafter his client list included St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the New York Life Building, and Carnegie Hall. Impressive.

Even more impressive was the system Wolff designed to cool cadavers in Cornell University’s new Medical College. His system for lowering humidity was so effective graduation exercises were held in its dissecting rooms. (Cadavers not invited.)

In July 1901, the nation’s temperatures held at 100 degrees plus. The heatwave claimed 10,000 lives. The New-York Tribune printed a scathing editorial: Does anyone doubt citizens would be happier and merchants more prosperous with the thermometer at 70 degrees instead of 100? The new Stock Exchange building could be cooled in summer for one-tenth the cost of heating it in winter. If they can cool dead hogs in Chicago, why not live bulls and bears in New York? No one was more qualified to meet the challenge to “Turn on the cold!” than Alfred R. Wolff.

155.

The New York Stock Exchange building was a block long and boasted a 72-foothigh-sky-lit ceiling and a window wall. But when the July 1903 heat blistered New York City, Wolff ’s 25,000 feet of pipes cooled and dehumidified a room that changed out some 12,000,000 feet of air each minute.

It was a bit strange to witness professional “air sniffers” wind their way through floor traders, seizing air and feeling its humidity. Still, prestigious press across the country sanctioned Wolff ’s work as “elaborate and perfect.” Finally—comfort cooling was poised to go mainstream.

Willis Haviland Carrier

W

illis Carrier taught himself fractions by cutting apples in halves, quarters, and eighths then adding and subtracting the parts. Perhaps young Willis’s determination started with his great-great-grandmother, Martha Carrier, who, in 1692, stood her own in a boundary dispute with Andover, Massachusetts’ town fathers?

Martha was hanged for witchcraft. Not a happy ending. Still, of the 200 accused “witches” Martha was the only one who refused to admit or confess.

By the time Willis came along on November 26, 1876, his ancestors had joined an ox-team train of settlers and pushed their way to the snowy eastern shore of Lake Erie in Angola, New York, where they purchased a farm that became Willis’s childhood home.

In 1897, Willis, who had already earned the reputation of “problem-solving genius,” received a four-year scholarship to Cornell University. His scholarship covered academic expenses, but to eat and sleep he mowed lawns and stoked furnaces. When that wasn’t enough, he started a co-op student laundry.

In June 1901, Willis Carrier was awarded a mechanical engineering degree and hired

by Buffalo Forge Company to design heating systems for drying lumber and coffee.

Salary: $10—a week.

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From the git-go, young Carrier sneered at seasoned engineers’ methods of guesstimating jobs. Within months, he redesigned faulty calculation tables that had plagued even the notable Alfred R. Wolff. By the end of the first year, he saved the company $40,000 (just over $1 million in today’s dollars) and talked his way into setting up a Department of Experimental Engineering.

Given he had no title, no lab space, and no extra pay Buffalo’s execs probably figured they’d made a good deal. As happened, timing was perfect.

Within a month, Willis Carrier received an assignment that changed lives forever.

Sacket-Wilhelms Lithographic and Publishing Company was tormented with quality issues—high humidity caused paper to swell; images blurred; mountains of paper were ruined; deadlines were missed. With the summer of 1902 heating up, Sacket-Wilhelms executives took their tale of woe to Buffalo Forge. In turn, Buffalo Forge executives took their tale of woe to their brand-new head of experimental engineering. Looking back, Carrier remembered, “At the time, I had never even heard of humidity.”

Still, armed with nothing but a floor plan of the Sackett-Wilhelms building, a slide rule, and a Willis Haviland Carrier

158.

handful of temperature-humidity charts supplied by the U.S. Weather Bureau, Carrier set to work. His first idea—fanning burlap wetted with calcium chloride as it was pulled through rollers—failed. Along with chemicals ruining perfectly good shoes and corroding metal on nearby machinery, the system was impractical and commercially useless.

Carrier’s next idea was to fashion existing Buffalo Forge equipment into a miniversion of Alfred Wolff ’s Stock Exchange system: He used an industrial fan to blow air over steam coils filled with cold water. When air reached the exact right speed and water the exact right temperature, the excess humidity condensed on the coils.

For the first time, ever, room air was cooler AND drier simultaneously.

Carrier decided the word “conditioned” had a nice ring to it. On July 17, 1902, he presented his blueprints for air conditioning to Sacket-Wilhelms, and the installation was approved.

Time passed. Carrier made improvements. On January 2, 1906, he was awarded U.S. Patent 808,897 for his Apparatus for Treating Air—the world’s first spray-type airconditioning equipment designed to humidify or dehumidify air. By 1907, Buffalo Forge acknowledged his success by creating a subsidiary called the Carrier Air Conditioning Company of America. This time, Carrier got a lab AND a building of his own.

Sales grew from 63 contracts in 1912, to 93 in 1913, to 130 in 1914. The company added three more plants and merged with two manufacturing firms. Not bad for a kid who taught himself fractions from dicing apples AND pioneered “The Hill York Way.” 159.

GO-TO GUYS Chip says . . .

Did It All

I

t’s “really cool” to tell you about Hill York’s range of projects. We’re a full-service contractor—your single source of responsibility—your go-to guys.

From private residences, condos, and hotels, to hospitals and operating rooms, to chain and department stores, to restaurants and theatres, to big and small businesses, to universities and sports facilities, to marinas, cruise ships, and freighters, we’ve done it all. We even air conditioned the dipping room for a candy maker, a smorgasbord table in a Swedish restaurant, and the atomic bomb project at Hanford, Washington.

Bottom line: Hill York has air conditioned at least a dozen of any project you can imagine.

NETWORK OF AUTHORITY Jeff says . . .

Primarily Commercial

T

oday, our projects are primarily commercial. A commercial project is a network of authority and specialties: The owner hires a developer; the developer hires an architect and general contractor (GC); the GC hires more special trade subcontractors than Carter has liver pills—ironworkers, welders, pile drivers, roofers, electricians, elevator mechanics, masons, plumbers, carpenters, laborers, plasterers, painters, paper hangers, carpet layers, landscapers, and us—the air-conditioning guys.

We hire our own subcontractors, who report to us, but we work for the GC. Our foreman runs our crews. Our project manager lives with the job and is accountable for performance, staying within budget, and finishing on time.

MURPHY’S LAW Jeff says . . .

BIM Drawings

O

n some projects, Hill York is the GC. When we’re the GC, we’re in control of EV-REE-THING. And when we’re in control of the whole shebang, far fewer things go wrong. Frankly, what can go wrong, will go wrong. It’s Murphy’s Law.

So we take a proactive approach and create preconstruction Building Information Models—BIM drawings. BIM drawings are computer-generated, 3-D representations of the precise physical and functional characteristics of facilities that contain the geometry and data needed to support construction, fabrication, and procurement activities as the project proceeds. They identify potential problems up front.

SELL. DELIVER. BILL. COLLECT. Herb says . . .

Simple . . . Until

I

t’s no secret—every business must make money or it won’t be a business. Air-conditioning contractors follow a basic model: Sell. Deliver. Bill. Collect. It’s a simple model, until we get to collect.

Problems are generic by nature, and, yes, they happen. So Hill York is the fire marshal, not the firefighter. We’re all over contract administration. On the front end, we check and double-check the scope and bid: Do they match? Are the contract’s terms and conditions reasonable and fair? What should we do about a GC’s “killer clause” that states, under whatever circumstances, problems are our fault? What are the safety concerns, and how do we minimize risks? On the back end, it’s about making sure the job is finished according to specs and getting paid.

Contracting is a tough way to earn a living. Why? Contractors spend their money to pay for equipment and labor. They complete the job according to contractual terms. But they don’t get the lion’s share of their money until everybody signs off.

It’s a balancing game of cash flow management that requires financial strength. Can you leverage subcontractors and pay them when you get paid? Can you hold off equipment manufacturers?

Or maybe, like Bob Lafferty, you simply go for it.

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Bob Lafferty Go for it!

IT’S JUST NOT FAIR Bob says . . .

Pay Us Now!

H

erb hit the nail on the head when he told you air-conditioning contracting is a tough business—it’s a darn tough business. If we don’t get paid, we have to pay a lawyer to file a lien against the building. But we’re air-conditioning contractors, not real estate tycoons. I’ll let you in on a little secret: I bailed us out more than once and stayed in business because I made more money than I spent. But it wasn’t always easy.

Back in the ’80s, Hardin Construction, out of Atlanta, awarded us the air-conditioning contract to turn a decrepit VA hospital into a fancy hotel—the Biltmore, in Coral Gables, Florida.

The Biltmore had to get its certificate of occupancy (CO) in time to open for the holiday season. But first the historical society had to sign off and list the building on the National Register of Historic Places.

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Everything moved along until it came time for the exterior surface—the developer, architect, and contractor got in a huge squabble; nobody agreed on anything. So Hardin said, “Thanks but no thanks,” picked up their stuff, and walked off.

The subcontractors had a choice: We could work with the developer and finish the job or bail. Most subs said, “We quit.” But Hill York agreed to finish what we’d started, with the understanding we’d get paid. The developer agreed to take care of us and treat us right. We parted friends.

Our guys worked every night until midnight, finished the job in time for the CO, the Biltmore opened, and rooms sold like hotcakes. All was rosy until we asked for our money.

Unbeknown to me, the developer had hired a shady attorney who told him, “I’ll blow smoke up Hill York’s ass and get them to settle for fifty cents on the dollar.” I hit the roof. We had a quarter million dollars outstanding. No way could we—would we— work on that margin. The developer stood his ground. But he didn’t know Bob Lafferty.

I spent five hundred bucks and had red and white “It’s Just Not Fair” buttons printed.

I was interviewed on NBC’s local nightly news and explained our predicament. But I was just getting started.

I rallied my Orange Bowl buddies and church friends and asked them if they’d march in a parade. They were all over it like a bird on a bug. So I secured a parade permit and scheduled our parade for the very day the Biltmore hosted an open house to show off to realtors from around the world.

At one time the Biltmore’s pool was the largest pool in the world.

Among its many attractions was swimming instructor, and later Tarzan actor, Johnny Weissmuller.

Come parade day, I hired a plane to tow an “It’s Just Not Fair” banner and circle the Biltmore’s steeple. Twenty trucks and a dozen heavy-equipment vehicles, decked out with “It’s Just Not Fair” banners, drove in line behind a marching band blaring, “I Love a Parade.” A hundred marchers followed. We wore our buttons and chanted, “It’s just not fair! Pay us now!” News reporters shoved microphones in my face. With TV cameras rolling, I spilled the beans.

The very next day, the developer called a meeting. Before I could even grab a cup of coffee, he said, “Lafferty, if this is how you treat your friends, I never wanna be your enemy.”

With that, we got our money and celebrated by throwing a huge party for the Execs (more about Execs later).

169.

RETROFIT PROJECTS Jeff says . . .

Separate P&L

R

etrofit projects are short-term projects that typically last a week, maybe two.

But they’re so important they have a separate P&L.

Air-conditioning guys stand in line to do retrofit projects. So we’re far from the only game in town, but we’re the best. We expect to do ten million a year in retrofit work.

Retrofit projects are tied to the service—maintenance—piece of our business. When the useful life of your equipment is over, our goal is to replace it and become your service provider.

170.

SERVICE AND MAINTENANCE Mark says . . .

Eight Hundred Percent

T

he service and maintenance side of our business is my specialty. Donnie Trousdale was a master, and I’m proud to tell you he taught me everything he knew.

When I came onboard in 1991, the service side of our business struggled to do three million. Today, we do twenty-seven million. I’ll do the math for you: That equals a growth rate of eight hundred percent.

Chip says . . .

Partner for Life

M

aintenance contracts are the most coveted piece of our service business. Truthfully, they are the lifeblood of our business. Why? Maintenance contracts create recurring revenue to the tune of four to six times their value. Nothing in our business is guaranteed, but I can be fairly certain maintenance revenue will come in year after year. I can base my business model around it; I can borrow against it; I can grow my business with it.

Here’s how it works: A customer signs a maintenance contract. Over the years, we perform as CHAMPs and develop a relationship. When our customer’s unit dies, he’ll buy a replacement. He continues his maintenance contract on his new unit. Bingo! We have a customer—a partner—for life.

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CONSTRUCTION Jeff says . . .

Guaranteed

T

he construction side of our business is my specialty. I’ve done everything from estimating to operations. I keep a project “wish list” that’s updated weekly. I’m superstitious about sharing it. But I will tell you it projects revenue we need to meet our yearly goals, what we need to do to get there, and takes into account the highs and lows that come with the territory.

New construction comes mainly through referrals. We could buy bid service lists that provide contact information for projects open for bid in specific geographic areas. We don’t. People who know us trust us, so they ask us to bid on new projects.

173.

BIDS Jeff says...

Pros

B

ids require lots of work. All components must be quantified before determining a cost estimate.

Back in the day, we did everything by hand, on a spreadsheet. But on-screen digitizers changed the estimating world dramatically.

Guys in our estimating department are pros—very busy pros. It’s not unusual to bid one small job every day, and spend up to a week preparing a bid for a ten-milliondollar job.

Chip says . . .

Two Types

T

here are two types of bids. One is called “design-build.” That means our design engineers design a system; we give our customer the price; we do the installation.

But design-build is not how the market usually operates. Normally, the owner hires an architect, and the architect hires an engineer. The engineer completes the design and gives the plans back to the owner who hires a GC. The GC sends the same set of plans to a number of air-conditioning companies that provide a bid. That’s called “per-plans-and-specs.” Honestly, sometimes when we win a per-plans-and-specs bid, our engineers need to jump in and make it all work.

Like Dad says, “No air-conditioning or refrigeration problem is too great for Hill York’s progressive engineers.”

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REGISTERED PROFESSIONAL ENGINEER Chip says . . .

Grueling Ordeal

I

’m a registered professional engineer. That means I earned an engineering degree and worked under Hill York’s engineers four years. I, then, asked registered professional engineers to write letters recommending I sit for the exam.

Their letters worked. I was accepted and assigned an exam date.

That was the easy part. For the next six months, I worked at Hill York every weekday until five o’clock. Then I set up in the conference room and studied until nine. Every Saturday, I took a prep course. I took Sundays off, but the exam was always on my mind.

My appointed exam day finally arrived. It was an all-day, grueling ordeal. Then I waited four weeks for my results. The minute I knew I passed, I called Dad. His secretary told me he was on the golf course. This was way before cell phones, so I called the pro shop and said, “Will you please tell Bob Lafferty Chip passed? He’ll know what you mean.”

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Bob says . . .

Great News!!!

I

’ll never forget the day Chip passed the registered professional engineer’s exam. I was playing golf, and when you’re playing golf, you’re playing golf. You think about your last shot and plan your next shot. That’s it.

I’d just lined up my putt. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a club employee driving straight at me in a golf cart, waving his arms like a lunatic. I was mad—fretting and fuming and wondering why this guy had the nerve to interrupt my golf game.

He drove up next to me. I was about to give him a piece of my mind when he said, “Mr. Lafferty!!

Mr. Lafferty!! Great news!!” Then he handed me a note that read, Your son passed!

I was proud then, and I’m still proud. Registered professional engineers sit on top of the engineer’s totem pole. The department of engineering is very strict about terminology—only those who pass the exam can call themselves registered professional engineers.

I’m a mechanical engineer, but I never sat for the exam. Because Chip passed Florida’s exam, he has reciprocal rights all over North America. There are only slightly more than eight hundred thousand registered professional engineers in the entire country.

Not too shabby, huh?

177.

Chip says . . .

Buck Stops Here

H

ill York employs in-house engineers, who report to my head engineer, who reports to me. They all work under my care and direction. I set the standards, they do the work, and I review for excellence. After I approve, sign, and seal the plan, I send it to our building department for permits.

Ultimately, the buck stops here.

CHILLER PLANTS Jeff says . . .

Gigantic Puzzle

C

entral energy plants—chiller plants—are special projects. Hill York has completed more than any other contractor in Florida—I can list at least a hundred.

We’re a huge value add to our customers because we’re so experienced. We know exactly what to do, from understanding the type of equipment required for the specific application to providing expert craftsmanship.

We build our chiller plants before they are built. By that I mean our preconstruction department creates a BIM drawing that lays everything out on paper. After the model is approved, our fab shop prefabricates the piping, complete with settings and valves. When the space is ready, we hang huge, awkward pipes and bolt them together. It’s like putting together pieces of a gigantic puzzle.

When the last bolt is in place, our chiller projects are quick and efficient, and that equals lower energy costs for our customers.

University of Miami is a great example. We replaced seven chiller plants under one contract. Some of them were in crazy locations without easy access. At the end of the projects, we celebrated with University of Miami Day. 179.

AWARDS Chip says . . .

Granddaddy Award

W

e’re proud of all our awards. But the granddaddy is the Mechanical Contractor Association (MCA) Lifetime Achievement Award that Dad received in 2016.

MCA did it up right—gala banquet at Hard Rock Casino, everybody dressed to the nines, prime rib, chocolate, music, dancing. But the best thing about the entire evening? DAD. WAS. FLOORED. Still, he gathered his wits, stepped to the mic, looked out at the crowd of contractors, and said, “Age-old advice is age-old advice: Set your selling price higher than your costs!”

Chip, Joan, Bob & Bob

Window Shaker 1950

MAGIC SLATE SALES PITCH

Bob says . . .

Brand-new Invention

E

ighty years ago no one even heard about air conditioning. Then in the early ’50s, people woke up and realized there was a brand-new invention they couldn’t live without. And that’s when Hill York got into the residential air-conditioning business.

It wasn’t easy because people were used to sweating and slow to adopt comfort. We trained our salesmen to use the “Magic Slate Sales Pitch.” They promoted three things. HEALTH: People eat better, sleep better, and live longer. COMFORT: Families stay home together; Dad comes home earlier; Mom’s work is not hot-day drudgery; irritations and short tempers disappear. SAVINGS: Cleaning and laundry bills are reduced; consumption of cold beverages is cut; medical bills are reduced; number of cooling-off rides in cars is reduced.

We started out with window-shakers. They were small air conditioners people shoved into window frames, closed the sash, and listened to them rattle. One area of the house was cool, and you hoped cool air traveled to the rest of the house. It didn’t. When you left the room, somebody always hollered, “Close the door. You’re letting out the cool air.”

181.

SOLARAMA Bob says . . .

Dad’s Baby

S

olarama homes were Dad’s baby. They were built during the late ’50s, in Sans Souci Estates—a lovely track of land between Biscayne Boulevard and Biscayne Bay. Solarama homes were designed with three comfort-conditioned living zones: cabana, living, bedroom.

Dad proved his genius by installing a heat pump air-conditioning system. Basically, heat from the sun was pumped into the home to heat it during the winter, and heat from inside the home was pumped out to cool it during the summer.

Solaramas were promoted nationally and sold in the upper five-figure range—considering the average home in the ’50s sold for eight thousand dollars, they were exclusive. Dad was never one to let grass grow under his feet, so he took on the bureaucrats and patented the name Solarama.

CONDOMINIUMS Bob says . . .

High-Rise Kings

D

uring the 1950s, Hill York became known as the “high-rise kings.” Dad sold the really big jobs that brought in the really big money. Sure, Hill York sold four- and five-ton jobs, but they were assigned to somebody else. Dad was the company’s trump card. He got Hill York into the big job market. Eventually, Hill York air conditioned hundreds of condominiums.

183.

Mark says . . .

Hill York, HUH?

W

hen I was first hired, I rode with Donnie Trousdale up and down AIA in Fort Lauderdale, and he told me stories about each and every condominium on the beach. Hill York air conditioned them all, plus a slew of condos on Miami Beach.

Before we stopped to call on a customer, Donnie filled me in on the condo’s history, and I was ready to make my spiel. Being the new kid on the block, I introduced myself. But when I got to the part about, “I’m with Hill York, and we . . .” the customer stopped me cold.

“Hill York, HUH? No need to say another word. I know exactly who you represent.”

MAKE IT RIGHT Mark says . . .

What Goes Around

N

o matter what the project, Hill York has been known to pull money out of its own pocket to make it right for the customer. For instance, Marine Tower Condominium, on Las Olas . . .

Back around 1993, Marine Tower was cooled via well water, drawn out of the ground through a heat exchanger. When this system failed, Hill York was hired to install a cooling tower.

Fort Lauderdale’s noise ordinance stated that a building couldn’t emit more than sixty decibels of sound, fifteen feet from the property, after nine p.m. The fan on the cooling tower created an unfamiliar noise, so a neighbor called the city’s consumer complaint department. One thing led to another, and Hill York was cited for violating the ordinance.

At no charge to Marine Tower, Hill York installed a variable speed drive on the fan’s motor, so at night, when the need for air conditioning decreased, the fan slowed down and the noise lessened.

Time passed. Marine Tower hired another air-conditioning contractor to perform its maintenance. But twenty-three years later, Marine Tower’s building manager rehired Hill York. That goes to show you what goes around comes around.

185.

ETHICS PIECE Mark says . . .

Up and Up

T

hen there’s the ethics piece. Frankly, the industry is fraught with contractors who are more interested in lining their own pockets than anything else. They cut corners. They pay people under the table. They call in favors and pay off suppliers. They even grease the palms of building managers or chief engineers.

But when Hill York is in the running for contractor of choice, people don’t even suggest unscrupulous shenanigans. They know we’re on the up and up and won’t play games.

186.

MARRIOTT HARBOR BEACH RESORT & SPA Jeff says . . .

High Profile

I

started my career doing small projects. Then I graduated to larger projects. The IBM building, in Boca, elevated my status to “real” project manager, and around 1982, I hit it big time with the Marriott Harbor Beach Resort & Spa.

The project had many special features: It was a full-service, four-star hotel, on the beach; each area in the building had unique cooling requirements; it was designbuild; Turner Construction—the largest construction company in the country—was the GC; it was one of the first projects in Fort Lauderdale that had smoke control systems; it was Hill York’s largest project; it took two years to complete. In the proverbial nutshell, Marriott Harbor Beach Resort & Spa was a VERY high-profile project for Hill York and yours truly.

We started the project shortly after smoke inhalation killed eighty-five people, during the MGM Grand Hotel and Casino fire, in Las Vegas—the third worst fire in modern hotel history. Hotel guests were still very concerned about their safety, so smoke evacuation systems were the most important design feature in any hotel.

Admittedly, I was a bit anxious on smoke-test day. But it was showtime. It’s rare for big projects to pass smoke tests on the first go-around. Still, we set off fifteen zones, all at once, and they each worked perfectly, the very first time.

Then there was the relationship piece: As project manager, I was on site almost every day, so I got to know the other guys well. By project end, Turner’s project manager and I were good friends, and that extended to our wives and daughters becoming friends.

The Marriott Harbor Beach Resort & Spa was a huge coup for Hill York. And, personally, I treasure my once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

188.

APLYSIA Mark says . . .

Proof

T

here are projects, and then there are projects. Aplysia sounds like a small country in Eastern Europe, doesn’t it? Wrong! Can you say, “sea slug”?

The National Resource for Aplysia is located in the University of Miami’s Rosenstiel School of Marine and Atmospheric Science. That’s a mouthful to tell you it’s the only place on the planet where Aplysia—sea slugs—are cultured and raised to sell to research facilities worldwide. The research facilities focus on neurological responses of the human brain, and sea slugs serve as test subjects.

These critters live in constantly flowing fresh sea water. If the water temperature goes below fifty-two degrees, the slugs refuse to reproduce and die an unhappy death.

Let’s face it—a dead slug isn’t a prime candidate for human brain research.

So Hill York designed and installed equipment to maintain the slugs’ water temperature at fifty-three degrees.

Proof: Hill York makes life more comfortable, even if you’re a sea slug.

189.

HALF A LIFETIME Herb says . . .

Favorites I was a Hill Yorker forty years. That’s half of Hill York’s lifetime. I know a thing or three about projects. I’ll tell you about a few of my favorites. Along the way, you’ll understand why and how Hill York’s projects demonstrate Hill Yorkers’ skills and the company’s ethics.

MIAMI BEACH CONVENTION CENTER Herb says . . .

Good Things

I

completed my first Hill York project before I even worked for Hill York. It was also my first chance to get to know Bob Lafferty.

The project was the Miami Beach Convention Center. All was going well, and it got even better when I met a guy by the name of Bob Lafferty who owned a company by the name of Hill York. Lafferty went way out on a limb for me and convinced Miami Beach commissioners to dump their proprietary air-filtration company, CosaTron, for American Air Filter, the company I represented.

The commissioners went along with Lafferty, provided they could withhold fifty grand until the final test proved American Air’s electrostatic filters would, indeed, eliminate the haze of smoke created by cigar-smoking boxing fans. Now the pressure was on American Air to perform. I’m proud to tell you our filters came through with flying colors, and Hill York collected its fifty grand.

That goes to show Lafferty’s negotiation skills are the best of the best. Plus, he puts his money where his mouth is and takes a stand for what he knows is right.

PS: Based on Bob’s courage and huge order, he and Joan won an all-expenses-paid, first-class trip to the Kentucky Derby. And that goes to show you good things happen to good people.

191.

MACY’S Herb says . . .

First

H

ill York was the first company in Broward County to design and install smoke evacuation systems. One of our first projects was Macy’s, at the Galleria Mall, on Sunrise Boulevard.

The specs called for an extensive, complicated system—exit signs had to be visible from thirty feet, within ten minutes, in a room filled with double-volume smoke.

That required a massive amount of air changes.

Every eye in South Florida was on us. Our reputation was on the line. Our tests ran without a single glitch.

FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH Herb says . . .

Relationships

B

ack in the late ’70s, Dr. O. S. Hawkins was called to be the senior pastor at First Baptist Church, in Fort Lauderdale. Under his leadership, the church started the Fort Lauderdale Christmas Pageant. As the pageant grew into an Emmy award-winning production that tells the Christmas story to upwards of fifty thousand people each year, the church needed more space and made plans for a major addition.

Lafferty was a church member. Typical Lafferty, he had built strong relationships with Pastor Hawkins, church leadership, and Centex Rooney Construction Company—the GC. Hill York was awarded the air-conditioning contract because of Bob’s relationships. Period. The end.

As the project got underway, we recognized heavy equipment on the roof, above the choir room, was a problem and notified Centex. Hill York didn’t do the design. Still, the design engineers asked for our opinion.

So we engineered a vibration isolation process. Simply said, we isolated the equipment from the source of vibrations. That was very expensive and had to be installed carefully and accurately.

As the saying goes, “All’s well that ends well.” Not only did our smoke tests pass first crack out of the box, the Construction Association of South Florida presented us with their craftsmanship award.

193.

110 TOWER Herb says . . .

Nice Guys

T

he 110 Tower is in downtown Fort Lauderdale. The project’s superintendent, who was my closest friend from New York, contacted me about the job. But Lafferty sold it—he’s a master of describing Hill York’s capabilities and technology. There’s more: Bob Lafferty is a nice guy, and people like to work with nice guys.

The 110 Tower turned out to be a difficult project because the developer was NOT a nice guy. He fired the GC, bankrupted the plumber, and fired four electrical contractors.

The developer hated Honeywell—the thermostat guys—but they were proprietary, so he was stuck with them. He hated Otis elevator, but they had the building for life, so they stayed.

Then there was Hill York: We were the fair-haired boys, so the nasty-rat developer touted our virtues to the other subs, and made life miserable for everybody.

Two good things happened during the project: One, we proved our skills with noise control, and received the fifty thousand dollar payment we deserved. Two, Lafferty asked me to be Hill York’s president.

The moral of the story is this: Sometimes you gotta hang in there and learn from the nice guys.

194.

BROWARD COUNTY CONVENTION CENTER Herb says . . .

Resolution

S

omehow, an out-of-state contractor worked a deal with the Broward County commission to complete development projects in Fort Lauderdale. So when the commission agreed to build a new convention center, he was awarded the project. As work proceeded, terms and conditions went haywire, so the contractor picked up and high-tailed it home.

The commission, then, asked a local guy—Bob Moss—to evaluate the project. Bob said he could change the design and deliver on time and at budget. Bob Moss had a strong relationship with Lafferty and every confidence Hill York could complete a design-build and get it right. We were in.

Hill York knew smoke evacuation like the back of its hand. Pete Goetzman, who was our chief engineer, eliminated literally miles of ductwork that filled the space above the mezzanine, and we installed a system that allowed air to flow into and smoke to flow out of the building. We shaved a half-million bucks off the project and got a three million dollar contract.

It gets better: The convention center’s main chiller room is a myriad of pipes. One morning, Bob Moss said, “Lafferty! The painter wants to know what color to paint the pipes in the chiller room.”

Lafferty is a Gator; I’m a Cane; Gators and Canes loathe each other. But that day we resolved our differences by agreeing to paint some pipes orange and blue, for the University of Florida’s Gators, and others orange and green, for the University of Miami’s Hurricanes. As a bonus, we painted some pipes garnet and gold for Florida State University’s Seminoles.

195.

WHERE THE HELL IS IRAN? Herb says...

Cautious Caution

D

uring the late ’70s, we worked with Radice Construction to build up Galt Ocean Mile, in Fort Lauderdale—Edgewater Arms, Fountainhead, Plaza East, Plaza South are just a few of the beautiful buildings we air conditioned. One morning, Arthur Radice—Radice’s president—called Charlie Daniels.

“Charlie!” he said. “Radice was hired by a developer in New York to go to Iran and build four buildings just like the ones on Galt Ocean Mile. Mohammad Reza Shah Pahlavi and his entire dynasty will live there. I want you to come with us. We’ll be rich, rich, rich! What do you say, Charlie?”

Charlie said, “Iran? Where the hell is Iran? I’m not going to Iran or any other damn place if I don’t know where it is. Can I drive to Iran?”

“No, Charlie, you can’t drive to Iran—even in your fancy Cadillac. But I’ll tell you what. We’ll design the job, order and modify the equipment, ship it from the States, and send a superintendent to make sure the piping and ductwork come off without a hitch. All you have to do is figure your specs, pay for your equipment, and send your mechanics to do the installation. It’s the deal of a lifetime. What have you got to lose?”

196.

Charlie bought the deal—in part. He agreed to complete one building at a time. The first building went off without a hitch, and we were paid our due. But just before we started the second building Persian-bred Enqelāb-e Eslāmī led a popular uprising, toppled Shah Pahlavi’s dynasty, and burned our beautiful building to the ground.

Our mechanics got out with just the shirts on their backs.

We made a few bucks but not what we thought we’d make. Still, that goes to show you cautious caution can work to your benefit. Charlie was conservative, even when he was offered “the deal of a lifetime.” If he’d taken a wild shot and fully mobilized Hill York’s resources, we probably wouldn’t be around to tell our story. I learned a lot from Charlie. You can too.

Galt Ocean Mile

THE KID Bob says . . .

Take a Chance

I

’ve been involved in more projects than I can count. But my favorite is One Biscayne Tower, in Miami.

The year was 1969. The tallest office building to hit Miami was about to be built on the corner of Biscayne Boulevard and Flagler Street. At thirty-nine stories, it was also the tallest building in South Florida.

Frank Stass was the project manager. Hill York wanted to be the air-conditioning subcontractor. But we didn’t just want it, we wanted it. So off I went—a still wet-behind-the-ears newbie—to call on Frank.

Frank said, “Forget it, kid! You’re too late. We’re about to give the AC contract to your competitor.”

“Thanks for telling me, Mr. Stass, but can I look at the plans just to see what I missed?”

“Go to it, kid. Help yourself, but don’t bother me. I’m busy.”

The plans were laid out on big tables in the plan room—one-thousand-ton chiller, air unit on each floor, cooling towers on the roof. The project had Hill York’s name written all over it.

I stepped out of the plan room, directly onto some guy’s brown paper lunch bag.

Lucky me—it was empty. Maybe I was young and inexperienced, but I had a good feel for costs. Besides that, what did I have to lose?

198.

I sat on a crate, fished a pencil out of my briefcase, picked up the bag, and scribbled: *

Pipe: $225,000

*

Air units: $400,000

*

Sheet metal: $1,500,000

*

Controls: $250,000

*

Insulation: $100,000

*

Chemical treatment: $10,000

*

Permitting: $20,000

*

Labor: $350,000

*

Contingency: $140,000

*

Sales tax: $60,000

*

Subtotal: $5,575,000

*

Markup: $715,000

*

Total: $4,290,000

I looked around for Frank, but he was in a meeting. So I handed my brown paper bag to his assistant, asked him to deliver it, and took off.

It took me an hour to drive to our office. My secretary met me at the door. “Mr. Lafferty!

You have an urgent message from a Frank Stass. Please call him right away,” she said.

I dialed. Frank picked up. “Mr. Stass, this is Bob Lafferty returning your call. How can I help you?”

“Very clever, kid.” Frank said. “You hit the nail on the head. Come pick up the plans, and we’ll talk.”

199.

Smooth as silk I said, “Gee, Mr. Stass, my schedule is full up today. Let’s see . . . Well, what about tomorrow afternoon?”

The next afternoon Frank and I shook hands on a deal that was fifty thousand dollars lower than my paper bag estimate.

The moral of my story is this: Every sale has circumstances that give the buyer confidence in you and your company and make him want to do business with you. Take a chance.

Be brave. Create those circumstances. And remember it’s not always about price.

Over the years, I came to recognize Frank Stass is one of the most intelligent and knowledgeable project managers I ever met. We formed a mutual admiration society, and Hill York ended up doing many other jobs for him.

Actually, Frank refused to deal with anyone but me. He’d call Hill York and say, “Where’s Lafferty? I need him, right now.”

He was like Billy Goat Gruff. Even when I sent my chief engineer—a registered professional engineer who graduated from Rice—to look at a project, Frank called me and hollered, “Don’t ever send that nincompoop out here again.”

“But, Frank, he’s a good guy and better engineer than me.”

“I don’t care. If he steps one foot on my job—if I so much as hear his name, I’ll kick Hill York to the moon and back. Bob Lafferty is my guy. Got it?”

“Got it, Frank.”

And that brings me to the second moral of my story: When a customer acts like Billy Goat Gruff, bite the bullet and play his game, as long as it’s ethical. If you don’t, everything will blow up on you.

By the way: Frank finally called me, Lafferty. But, by then, I liked the kid.

200.

201.

EVERY JOB IS IMPORTANT Chip says . . .

Day After Blistering Day

W

hen you think about Hill York, what comes to mind?

You’ve called our office, so you’re familiar with customer service. A technician shows up and fixes your problem, so you know about service. You can probably figure out Hill York employs engineers and people who work in administration, accounting, IT, and management. Of course, we need people in receiving and the warehouse.

All companies have executives, so that’s a no-brainer. If you’re active in the community, you probably know my dad or me and associate us with Hill York. Right?

Every job is important. But you probably never think about Hill York’s mechanics, who day after blistering day, are on the roof making your life more comfortable.

SHEET METAL BUSINESS Bob says . . .

Save Money

B

ack in the day, before mechanics started a job, we sent the plans to our in-house sheet metal shop, where we cut metal to a certain gauge on what’s called a “shear.”

See the guy in the picture? He could cut more metal than anybody I ever knew. He was fast, accurate, and one of the best in the industry.

205.

We also built ductwork in our duct shop. Take a look at the guy in the picture. He’s building ductwork out of fiberglass that’s glued and then taped. I’ll tell you a little secret: Fiberglass ductwork is cheaper than metal ductwork.

When we did the First Baptist Church project, I said, “You want to save money. Right?

I can save you a hundred grand. We’ll install fiberglass ductwork, and nobody will know the difference.” That’s what we did, and forty years later it still works. FYI: First Baptist Church is very important to me and Joan—it’s our church.

Chip says . . .

For Now

O

ver the last forty or so years, we’ve been in and out of the in-house sheet metal business. During our condominium heydays, we had our own sheet metal shop that employed up to two hundred and fifty fiberglass and sheet metal workers.

As of today—2017—we sub out sheet metal work because, frankly, it’s more cost effective and gives us latitude to focus on installation, pipefitting, service, management, and controls.

And that works—for now.

207.

UNION RELATIONSHIPS Chip says . . .

Highly Trained

O

ur mechanics come out of the local union. The union recruits them, trains them, and Hill York employs them. The four-year apprenticeship program is rigid and substantial, so only highly-trained mechanics come to us. That’s just one benefit of being a union contractor.

It’s not easy to be a mechanic—especially in South Florida. We appreciate ours to the moon and back. My goal is to develop mechanics who become Hill Yorkers for life.

210.

Mark says . . .

Well-versed

I

came through the union and worked in the field, so I’m well-versed about mechanics and union relationships. I’m proud to tell you without my union experience and working hands-on with tools and equipment, I wouldn’t have the knowledge I have today.

Union Contractor

H

ill York is a union contractor. We, along with fifty other employers who sign the collective bargaining agreement, deposit money into an education trust that funds training at the Air Conditioning, Refrigeration and Pipefitting Education Center (ARPEC). Students don’t pay one dime for their training.

ARPEC is run and operated by a joint committee of management and labor that comes together as equals and hires a principal to run the school. The guys graduate with top-notch skills. I say “guys” because it is difficult to get women interested in our trade, and that’s ridiculous.

Ladies, Listen Up

L

adies, listen up. Don’t shy away. There’s not a single reason why you shouldn’t be part of the air-conditioning trade. Equipment is becoming more and more computer oriented and there are no physical limitations. Plus, welding is well-suited for female dexterity. I invite you to stop by ARPEC at 13201 NW 45th Avenue in Opalocka (Miami) and check out the program. Or give them a call at 800-463-3129. You’ll be happy you did.

211.

The Program

T

he program is intense and comprehensive. First-year apprentices attend school one day a week and work with a contractor the other four days. Second- to fifthyear apprentices work five days a week and attend school from 6:00 p.m. to 9:30 p.m.

The program is divided into two categories: service and pipefitting. Service focuses on repairing and maintaining existing air-conditioning and refrigeration equipment.

Pipefitting focuses on the construction side of our industry.

Pay is progressive. By the time a guy graduates and becomes a journeyman, his pay envelope contains thirty-three bucks for every hour worked plus fifteen bucks an hour in fringe benefits. And he’s debt free. Compare that to attending college and ending up a hundred thousand dollars in the hole. It’s a no-brainer, isn’t it?

212.

Congratulations, ARPEC Grads!

Nothing Like ARPEC

There is nothing like ARPEC in the nonunion world. A nonunion employer takes its chances and hires blindly from Craigslist, LinkedIn, or guys who answer a newspaper ad. But as a union contractor, we benefit from having very skilled tradesmen become Hill Yorkers.

213.

PROUD Chip says . . .

Thank You

M

echanics, listen up: I care about you. Your “off the roof ” colleagues care about you. I know your job is brutal. The temperature tops one hundred degrees and the humidity is close to one hundred percent.

I know you enjoy fixing things. You’re air-conditioning doctors, who diagnose problems and work with your hands to repair equipment and save its life. I know you don’t like to go downstairs and tell Mr. Building Owner that it will cost him twelve hundred bucks to replace a rusty part. But that’s part of your job, and you do it well.

Thank you.

214.

I want you to be home with your families during the evening and on the weekends.

On “regular” build jobs you’ll be there. But Hill York is a 24/7 company, so if we have an emergency, and we need you, I’ll call on you, with full confidence you’ll show up and get the job done. Again, I thank you.

Hill York is a substantial company. There’s a career here for you. Longevity is your middle name. You can work at Hill York today, tomorrow, and all the tomorrows to come. Along your way, I promise to provide you with the best tools and safest conditions in the industry. AND you have the chance for upward mobility. Lots of your brothers started out in the field and are now vice presidents, making six-figure salaries—just ask them.

You can beat your chests because you’re the highest-class mechanics in South Florida.

Hill York is a coveted place to work. We might not be perfect, but we enjoy a very good reputation. I’m proud to have you onboard.

215.

TOUGH BUSINESS Chip says . . .

From My Heart

S

afety is a tough business. My guys are self-programmed to JUST. FINISH. THE. JOB. Only wimps or crybabies take time for safety. Get in. Get out. Don’t linger.

Don’t loiter.

I have a different viewpoint. So listen up, guys, because I speak from my heart.

220.

Monday morning safety meeting I care about you. I empower you to take ALL. THE. TIME. YOU. NEED. TO. BE. SAFE. When you’re dealing with four thousand volts, one little slip, and it’s all over.

I want you to wait three hours to get a longer ladder, for a five-minute fix. I want you to wear the right clothes; safe it off; lock it off; tag it out; do whatever it takes to get home safe.

No way do I want to tell your wife and kids you’re hurt—even dead. One of my proudest moments is when your wife says, “Chip, I’m happy my husband works for Hill York. You care enough to get him home safe.”

I wait for those messages. That’s when I know our safety program works. That’s when I know you’re a Hill Yorker for life.

221.

SAFETY: A REVIEW Jeff says . . .

Number One Strategic Goal

I

’m Hill York’s safety guy. I can tell you up close and personal that safety is our number one strategic goal. How did we get there? I’ll start at the beginning.

For years, nobody talked about safety. So people did crazy stuff—stood on ladders’ top rungs; neglected to properly flush a pressure test system for leaks; the list went on. It was all about getting it done.

Eventually, the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) got involved, and safety was about the law.

Officials policed the field. They handed out fines, left and right. Well, people are people—when a “hotshot, bigwig” gets in your face, you march in step to make yourself look good. But the moment he leaves you revert to your old ways.

Florida has one of the highest incidents rates in the country and is a hotbed for OSHA dings. Still, I don’t recall ever being cited by OSHA. That says lots for Hill York and Hill Yorkers.

Time passed. Safety became a worker’s comp and general insurance liability issue. Safety precautions equaled lower premiums; lower premiums improved bottom lines.

Hill York, like all businesses, fell in line with whatever was in vogue. We had to. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t get work.

222.

CHANGES Jeff says . . .

#SafetyCHAMP

I

n 2014, that all changed. During our annual strategic planning meeting, partners discussed our biggest asset. And guess what that is? Yep. It’s Hill Yorkers.

The light bulb lit. If Hill Yorkers are our biggest asset, their safety should be our number one strategic goal. Why? Safety is the right thing to do. With that, I took on what we call “#SafetyCHAMP.” We started by creating short-term safety campaigns but soon realized we couldn’t police safety or pay people to be safe. That’s a train wreck waiting to happen. Instead, from top-down to bottom-up, safety must be built into the culture—Hill Yorkers must THINK and LIVE safety.

So we put our money where our mouth is and invested in safety. In 2015, we hired Louis Moreno as our full-time Director of Safety. I’m proud to tell you we’re one of the few air-conditioning contractors to employ a highly-qualified, dedicated, fulltime safety director.

Louis is a great guy, with solid safety experience in the construction and manufacturing industries. Hill Yorkers respect him. They recognize his job is not a job. He gets us thinking about reducing risks and stopping injuries before they happen.

Every morning, at 7 o’clock sharp, Louis sends a text message to all Hill Yorkers. His text is so popular some spouses and even kids opt in by texting HYSafe to 9557.

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412 accident-free days!

REMARKABLE RESULTS Jeff says . . .

Third-Party Article

W

e’ve had remarkable results. Ryan Garzon, insurance professional at Keyes Coverage, even wrote a third-party article about our safety program and posted it on LinkedIn.

Ryan Garzon Insurance Professional at Keyes Coverage Apr 21, 2016

South Florida’s Leading HVAC Contractor Proves Safety Turns Into Profitability How does creating a culture of safety impact a company’s bottom line?

In 2014, Hill York Service Corporation, Inc., one of South Florida’s largest HVAC Contractors, began working on their #1 strategic goal of improving safety and making it an essential part of their corporate structure. The results were astonishing!

The costs of their employees’ injuries were reduced by an impressive 94.3%. Not only did they reduce their own employees’ injury claims, but they will now receive a very generous dividend lowering their overall workers compensation cost down to 51% of state regulated rates! This was inclusive of a 35% dividend.

Safety is at the heart of Hill York’s performance. As a result of this distinctive objective, Hill York will receive a 2nd reimbursement from their insurance company in 2016. Chip Lafferty, CEO noted, “We invest so that our people are safe. It happened to produce a generous refund as the product of doing the right thing.”

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SPARE NO EXPENSE Jeff says . . .

Word Spreads

W

hen it comes to safety training, tools, equipment, or protective clothing we spare no expense. For instance, general contractors require guys to wear fluorescent-orange vests on job sites. If you’ve ever stood on a rooftop, in July, in South Florida, you know it’s hotter than Hades. So we bought our guys orange T-shirts, with the Hill York logo on the back. Not only are they compliant, it’s easy to spot a Hill Yorker doing the right thing.

Customers recognize the added value. They know they get quality work in a safe environment and word spreads. The Associated General Contractors of America’s Florida East Coast Chapter (ACG) awarded us its Safety Award of Excellence. We’re especially proud because ACG represents twenty-six thousand firms.

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AIN’T NO ACCIDENT Jeff says . . .

Change the Culture

I

’m not telling you this is a flip-the-switch fix. It takes time, money, and legwork.

Most of all, it takes Hill Yorkers to buy in. I give them full credit for stepping up to change the culture and making safety a long-term commitment.

THAT ain’t no accident!

1,200 accident-free days!

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Accident

Free!

RELATIONSHIPS Chip says . . .

Shepard Broad College of Law

I

got involved with Nova Southeastern University (NSU) in the early ’80s, when it was getting ready to open Shepard Broad College of Law. NSU put the job out for bid, and the general contractor’s job was awarded to James A. Cummings. Because of Hill York’s relationships in the community, we were awarded the air-conditioning contract.

I’d recently attended an engineering seminar about thermal ice storage and was convinced thermal storage was the perfect installation for the law school. When I approached the decision makers with my brilliant idea, they shot me a look that shouted: What does this kid know about ANYTHING? Then they turned me down flat.

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Miami Dolphins

A

few years later, NSU convinced the Miami Dolphins to train on their campus.

In exchange, they agreed to build a state-of-the-art training facility. The Dolphins jumped on it. NSU called for proposals. Miller and Solomon won the general contractor’s bid and asked me if Hill York might be interested in air conditioning the facility. Interested? You better believe we were interested.

There was, though, a condition. We had to give a price and live to it, even before the building was designed. We went into “hold their pencil mode.” That means an engineer outside Hill York did the design; we “held his pencil” and made sure he stayed within budget.

The training facility includes one of the largest weight rooms in the NFL, a therapy swimming pool, a cold-plunge pool, whirlpools, and locker rooms. Then there’s the bubble—a ninety-six-thousand-square-foot indoor facility that covers over two acres and is seventy-two foot tall in the center. It’s fitted with synthetic turf, and its markings are exact replicates of those on Dolphin Stadium’s game-day field. Almost more amazing, cheers from the screaming crowd are replicated in the bubble. If that’s not enough, the bubble is engineered to withstand Cat 3 hurricane-force winds.

We were challenged by the magnitude and jazzed by the opportunity. When all was said and done, NSU and Hill York were more than satisfied with the outcome.

College of Osteopathic Medicine

George L. Hanbury, II, Ph.D. and Chip Lafferty

T

he third job we did for NSU was the five-hundred-thousand-square-foot College of Osteopathic Medicine in Davie, Florida. We bid and won that job based on figures we scribbled on a napkin—scribbling figures on a napkin is a trick I learned from Dad. 233.

Finally

W

ith three successful projects under our belt, I had a solid relationship with NSU. Truthfully, they plain old liked me. So I went back to the decision makers and said, “It’s time to renovate the law school’s chiller plant and add ice storage. If you follow my lead, FPL (Florida Power & Light) will give you a nice rebate. AND you’ll save lots of money on your FPL bill.” Their ears perked up.

About a year later, NSU partnered with Broward County and drew up plans for a beautiful, massive public library on their campus. NSU awarded Hill York the library project AND agreed to renovate the law school’s chiller plant. With that, FPL gave them a onehundred-thousand-dollar rebate and lowered their electric bill. e “kid” DOES know his stuff.

Shortly after, NSU built dormitories and added a large ice storage plant. This time FPL gave them a three-hundred-thousand-dollar rebate and further reduced their electric bill.

Finally, the light bulb lit: The “kid” DOES know his stuff. Why didn’t we listen twenty-five years ago?

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MOTHERLODE Chip says . . .

Single Greatest Accomplishment

M

y twenty-five-year-old idea turned into motherlode—the second largest thermal ice storage plant in America. We built it. We operate it. We maintain it.

It’s my single greatest accomplishment.

The planning efforts were massive—we put in countless hours preplanning, designing, engineering, drafting, and pre-fabricating. The layout alone was a monstrous job. The four chillers are color-coded—yellow, green, blue, and red—to designate their different functions. Inside each tank are seventy-four miles of one-inch-in-diameter pipe.

The chillers cool the water down to seventeen degrees, and then send it upstairs to the ice tank, where we make ginormous ice cubes. And I mean ginormous—every night we make twenty-four ice cubes, each the size of a locomotive. During the process, heat absorption from the chillers must be removed, so we send that up to the cooling tower on the roof.

Second largest thermal ice storage plant in America.

Ice Tank Were there problems along the way? Sure. Did we solve them? Absolutely. When it came down to erecting the air conditioning inside this gigantic plant, we did it in record time—ten months. Given the plant’s size and complexity, that’s downright amazing. But not really—Hill Yorkers always pull together, work hard, and get the job done. When we have a deadline, and NSU gave us a hard deadline, we meet it.

The plant provides both energy-efficient and environmentally-friendly cooling. We make ice at night because that’s FPL’s “off-peak” time—hours when power is less expensive. That’s what gives NSU a huge break in its utility bill. During the day, we melt ice off the coils and send chilled water out to the campus. When the plant is fully built out, each tank will put out twenty-thousand-ton-hours of air conditioning.

It is expected to save NSU more than five hundred thousand dollars annually. That’s seventeen million, and change, over its lifetime. To date, FPL has given NSU two million dollars in incentives and rebates, with another million in the works.

Kevin Gamble is the plant superintendent. He single-handedly operates, manages, and maintains each and every inch of its forty thousand square feet. I’m proud to tell you the plant is immaculate. I’ve visited energy plants around the world and none stands up to ours. Kevin keeps it so clean you could eat spaghetti off the floor.

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PROUDEST MOMENT Kevin says . . .

WOW!!

I

’ve been a Hill Yorker since 1981. I started out as a pre-trainee and worked my way up. But my proudest moment was in 2009, when Chip personally asked me to run the energy plant.

I couldn’t help but think: Of all the people Chip might ask, why does he want ME to take care of HIS baby? I was hesitant, but after I thought about it, I said, “Chip, I’ll give you one year, and we’ll see how it goes.” Eight years later I’m still here and love every minute.

The plant has monitoring points and alarms. If anything goes wrong, even when I’m not on site, I get an email alert. Sometimes I can fix the problem remotely.

If not, I make a run and service the plant. Truthfully, Chip’s baby is my baby, too.

Hundreds—probably thousands—of people tour our plant. I love to see the look in their eyes. Everyone from highly trained professional engineers, to foreign tourists and dignitaries, to school kids have the same reaction: WOW!! And that makes me proud.

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Kevin Gamble

NAMING Chip says . . .

Heart’s Desire

O

nce I knew the law school’s energy plant was successful, my heart’s desire was to somehow, someway have something at NSU named for my two grandfathers.

I floated the idea out to the facilities staff, and they said, “Sure! We can do that.” But come to find out I was talking to the wrong people, so it never came to be.

Then we built my motherlode plant. The project took ten months to complete, and all along the way, I knew that plant was IT. That plant must be named after somebody in our family—I just knew it.

I also knew accomplishing my heart’s desire would take money. We would have to make a donation to the university. Well, I was on the golf tournament committee.

Frankly, I conspired to get a “Spend a Day Fishing with President George Hanbury” into the mix of auction items. And guess who bid high enough to win said item fair and square?

On the appointed day, I picked up President Hanbury at 5 a.m. and drove him to the Keys. Dr. Hanbury is a wonderful, well-spoken man—not at all “scary” like you might expect a university president to be.

So there we were—out on a boat, all alone, for an entire day, fishing. I explained he had North America’s second largest energy plant right there on his campus, and I wanted this jewel named after someone in my family. Dr. Hanbury is a fine Southern gentleman from Virginia, so in his charming Southern drawl, he said, “You know, Chip, we don’t put anyone’s name on a building for less than a million dollars.” I thought: That’s it. End of story.

238.

Well, part of a president’s job is to raise money for the university. So Dr. Hanbury didn’t forget what I said out on that boat, and over the next several months we negotiated. When all was said and done he was gracious enough to allow all our past donations to count toward the million dollars. That’s when I knew we were way down the road. It would happen, IF I could meet one last challenge.

I went to my parents and explained my idea. I told them it was approved, except I was “just a little” short of funds. Naturally, they were thrilled and agreed to make a financial commitment over the next ten years to make up the difference.

I’ll never forget naming day—there it was, my heart’s desire, in big silver letters: Robert S. Lafferty Sr. Central Energy Plant.

As an equal honor we negotiated a scholarship, in perpetuity, for my other grandfather, Charles Wesley Daniels—a man who never even went to college—now has an endowed scholarship named after him.

When I look back at the day I spent fishing with President Hanbury and think about all that’s happened, my heart is happy. Our family’s honorees are well matched.

Plant Naming Day Left to right: Chip and Mary Jean Lafferty; Lauren Alfino, first scholarship recipient; Dr. George L. Hanbury, II; Joan and Bob Lafferty; Bob Lafferty

George L. Hanbury II, Ph.D., and Chip Lafferty

ROBERT S. LAFFERTY SR. CENTRAL ENERGY PLANT Bob says . . .

Chip’s da Man

I

give Chip every ounce of credit for NSU. He got in there, took the bull by the horns, and built their central energy plant—Hill York’s largest and most complex project, ever. He did it through building relationships with NSU and getting lots of help from Hill Yorkers. But I’m proud to tell you NSU is Chip’s deal—he’s da man!

Our peers—the Construction Association of South Florida— awarded us the Craftmanship Award for our work. And that’s big time.

I’ll never forget the day the Robert S. Lafferty Sr. Central Energy Plant was dedicated.

My job was to give a threeminute speech describing Dad. That’s like describing the history of golf in three minutes.

But I thought back over the years and decided to tell a fish story that describes Dad to a T.

241.

In part, I said: “I’m one fortunate son to have had a father named Robert S. Lafferty Senior, for whom this energy plant is named.

I’m going to tell you a TRUE fish story. Pretend there’s a sign hanging up here with the word FISH on it. F means my dad was fair but firm. I stands for his innovative ideas.

S tells you he was smart but never bragged about it. H is for his humility. He never thought he was better than anyone else. If he did, he never showed it.

So when you see this energy plant, you can feel you know Robert S. Lafferty Senior. He was a genius who excelled at designing and selling large and small air-conditioning systems. Our customers loved him. Putting his name on NSU’s energy plant would make him very happy.”

242.

CHARLES WESLEY DANIELS ENDOWED SCHOLARSHIP FUND Bob says . . .

Give Back

N

SU gave us so much we wanted to give back—that’s the Hill York and Lafferty way. So next up that day was the ceremony for the Charles Wesley Daniels endowed scholarship fund. Joan, who was Charlie’s daughter and is my wife, gave that speech.

Surprise! Perfect Trifecta: Joan’s birthday, naming day for Robert S. Lafferty Sr. Central Energy Plant, and dedication of Charles Wesley Daniels Endowed Scholarship Fund

243.

In part, she said: “Even though my dad never graduated high school, he was passionate about education and would lecture his friends about supporting anything that would enhance it. When they hesitated because their families were past the stage of needing more education, he scolded them. He was all about promise and progress and ensuring that the next generation would be far better than the present one.

Just imagine how proud he would be today to see his grandson, Chip Lafferty, at the helm of Hill York. We had to pray Chip through physics, but he made it! He’d also be proud to see his great-grandson, Bob, working at Hill York. He was also very proud of my husband, Robert S. Lafferty Junior.

In closing, I have a challenge for you, my grandson, Bob Lafferty. Fifty years from now, when you’re our age—eighty—I expect you to endow a NSU scholarship in honor of your two grandmothers: Nancy Roehm Gray and Joan Daniels Lafferty.

May God continue to bless and grow NSU and Hill York.”

Bob, Chip, and Bob Lafferty

FAVORITE PROJECT Chip says . . .

Amazing

S

o that’s the NSU story. Over the last twenty-five years we’ve built great relationships. We’ve air conditioned and maintained service in every building on campus, for a grand total of five million square feet. That in itself is amazing. I’m proud of each and every square foot.

But, admittedly, I’m really, really proud of my all-time favorite project—the Robert S. Lafferty Sr. Central Energy Plant.

245.

FUN Bob says . . .

Why Bother?

L

ike all families, Hill Yorkers take care of one another. We share our blessings and help each other learn and grow. Along the way, we have more fun than a barrel of monkeys.

We celebrate big jobs, special days, holidays, company milestones, new babies, birthdays, promotions, and retirements—sometimes we celebrate just to celebrate.

We cheer on our bowling leagues and softball teams.

We love ice cream bars, sundaes, cakes, and cookies— actually we love all food. We’ll always remember our parking lot beach party, complete with sand, plastic buckets, and shovels. Then there was our Christian revival festival, on Fort Lauderdale Beach, led by Louis Palau—the guy Billy Graham claimed to be “one of the world’s leading evangelical Christian figures.”

If work isn’t fun, why bother?

Piano Maestro, Bob Lafferty

250.

SEA ISLAND Bob says . . .

Spark

I

n 1969, Hill York hosted a week-long, all-expenses-paid trip to The Cloister at Sea Island for our key guys and their wives. The Cloister is a luxury five-star resort in Georgia—a perfect place to kick back and discuss Hill York’s future.

We decided to emphasize team and designed our team spirit logo. Each guy pledged to do an outstanding job during 1970, and beyond. And they did. But they didn’t go it alone—Hill Yorkers marched behind them and sparked what Hill York is today.

These guys worked hard, but I can assure you they played just as hard. Sea Island is Southern hospitality at its finest—nothing is a problem for the staff.

They even organized a horseback ride on the beach.

The last evening we threw a masquerade party.

Everybody dressed up in fancy costumes. We ate, drank, and danced the night away. I don’t smoke cigars, but by the end of the evening, I lit up and puffed away, just like I knew what I was doing.

Guess who? Can you say, “Joan Lafferty and her mother, Tess Daniels, another Hill Yorker for life”?

TEAM SPIRIT Mark says . . .

No “I” in Team

H

ill Yorkers put their heads down and bond together. For instance, a team cooked and served lunch to hundreds of homeless in Broward; another team of women grabbed hammers and helped build homes for Habitat for Humanity.

You’ve heard it before, but it’s worth repeating: There’s no “I” in team.

Herb says . . .

Camaraderie

E

ach guy on a large project is assigned a job. But it’s more than just “my” job. Guys work as a team, and that generates energy, spirit, and passion. Over the years, we’ve encouraged teamwork and a sense of belonging with various helmets, buttons, and shirts.

For many years, we built camaraderie by entering Miami’s Bed Race Mattress Mayhem contest. Companies, bars, restaurants, clubs, and even celebrities decorated fourposter beds, dressed in outlandish costumes, and raced through Miami’s streets. The crowd went crazy—danced to live, loud music, cheered, and drank lots of beer. I don’t remember if we won a prize for our ductwork bed, but I do remember Hill Yorkers had a great time, and for months after, joked about “getting in bed together.”

252.

WE ARE FAMILY Linda says . . .

Memory Makers

H

ill Yorkers acknowledge breast cancer awareness month by wearing pink ribbons all month, and on Friday, we wear pink Hill York T-shirts to work.

When someone is sick or has an emergency, Hill Yorkers pull together and show support. Small things, such as care packages, cards, or providing transportation for family members, turn into big things.

Every month, we celebrate “Birthday Day.” I bake a cake, and Hill Yorkers gather round and sing “Happy Birthday.” People appreciate this small gesture more than you might think. Without fail, someone will say, “How did you know it was my birthday? Thank you so much.”

253.

Hill Yorkers’ kids often work at Hill York during the summertime. When they go back to school in the fall or graduate college, we throw a big breakfast and make them feel special.

You might think I’m describing what families do. I am. Celebrations take work out of work. They’re memory makers.

Old Polaroid of Charlie Ewing’s daughter

CONVOY OF HOPE Mark says . . .

Giving Back

I

t’s hard to wrap your head around what Haitians went through in 2010. In early January, a magnitude seven earthquake hit. Its epicenter was fifteen miles outside Port-au-Prince, the country’s capital. An estimated three hundred thousand died. A couple weeks later a magnitude six earthquake hit just thirty-six miles west of Portau-Prince. Then in October, a cholera epidemic killed almost four thousand and left over three hundred thousand sick and dying. If that wasn’t enough, in November, Hurricane Tomas hit the Windward Islands, and the cholera epidemic worsened.

I traveled to Haiti on an exploratory trip to see what I’d only heard about. As I toured in and around Port-au-Prince, I came to realize what it really means to be poor, and that was one heck of an experience.

One morning, we stopped at the warehouse Convoy of Hope was building to store food for orphans. I asked, “What are your plans for air conditioning?” and was told they couldn’t afford “luxuries.”

I put pencil to paper and calculated that air-conditioning equipment would cost around twenty thousand dollars. So I got on the horn and called a friend at Tropic Supply who agreed to donate the equipment. I talked with Chip, and he agreed to pay full wages to three Hill York mechanics who volunteered to fly to Haiti and install the equipment. And he agreed to pay my full salary to oversee the job. Finally, I talked with Bob, and he donated round-trip airfare, out of his own pocket.

255.

Subsequent to the successful installation, Chip’s church took on Convoy of Hope as a year-long project. So Chip had the opportunity to visit Haiti and see what Hill York did.

Our mechanics were there about a week. Their living conditions were less than tolerable. But when these big, burly guys held orphan babies in their arms, tears ran down their cheeks. They enjoyed giving back so much they still ask if they can return and do another project.

256.

THE HILL YORK PICNIC Herb says . . .

Lavish

F

or many years, Hill York threw huge, lavish family picnics. They were far more elaborate than just grilling hot dogs—we had pony rides, rock wall climbing, softball games, volleyball games, T-shirts, caps, and served mountains of food.

Starting about January, everybody talked about THE picnic. One year, we took a poll and asked Hill Yorkers if they would rather receive a one-time distribution of forty bucks per person or have THE picnic. THE picnic won almost unanimously.

Mark says . . .

Famous

H

ill York’s picnics were famous. Even before bounce houses were popular and easy to come by, we snagged one. One year, Charlie Daniels insisted Hill Yorkers deserved more than paper plates and plastic utensils.

So the company forked over money and rented linen tablecloths and napkins, china, and real silverware. Nothing was too good for Charlie’s Hill Yorkers.

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Bob says . . .

Proud to Be Proud

I

’m always proud to be a Hill Yorker, but I’m especially proud when we throw an outing, like our picnics. I sit back and watch babies and grandkids play; I see people laugh and eat our food. Then I bow my head and say, “Thank you, Lord, for letting Hill York provide this special occasion.”

During our picnics’ heydays, we invited Hill Yorkers and their families, but if they wanted to sneak somebody in, we fed ’em all! Why? We strive to do things different than our competition. We strive to be a good company. And we are. I’m proud of the Hill York name. I’m proud to carry on our traditions.

I’m proud to be proud.

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CHRISTMAS PARTIES Mark says . . .

Precious Stones

E

very year Hill York hosts an employee Christmas party. One of the highlights is presenting service pins. We call Hill Yorkers up front and award them with pins set with a different precious stone for every five years of service. Eventually, they receive a pin with the granddaddy of precious stones—a diamond.

Ugliest Sweater Contest

RETIREMENT PARTIES Mark says . . .

Herb Dell

W

hen Herb Dell retired, we threw a party at the Automotive Museum. Herb admires General George C. Patton. The movie about Patton’s life is one of his all-time faves. So I dressed up like Patton, and other Hill Yorkers joined the fun by performing in a skit.

Donnie Trousdale

W

hen Donnie Trousdale retired, we threw a party at the Tower Club. That was nice, but wait until I tell you how we surprised him . . .

We flew his ninety-two-year-old mother in from North Carolina. Everybody laughed, and cried, and hugged. Then the elevator doors slid open and out rolled a golf cart. That was a huge surprise on two levels: One, we managed to get a golf cart up the elevator to the twenty-eighth floor. Two, Donnie didn’t play golf. But he did buy a home in a golf community.

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SOMETHING WAS UP Jeff says . . .

Promise

I

’ll always remember the day Chip handed me the gavel, and I became Hill York’s president. I had a feeling something was up, so I said, “Please don’t embarrass me with a party. Promise?” Chip promised.

The next morning, I parked my car—as usual. I picked up my briefcase—as usual. I headed toward my office, and that’s when “usual” came to a screeching halt. My office door opened to the street. As I got closer, I could see a commotion in the parking lot. I’m thinking: Chip promised. Surely, this isn’t about me.

So much for promises. Hill Yorkers, waving banners and wearing buttons with my picture and a “Jeff Phillabaum for President!” slogan, greeted me; Chip and Brian cooked omelets; everybody congratulated me.

I thought: This isn’t so bad. Actually, it’s nice. It got better. I opened the door to my office, and there stood my mom, stepdad, and grandmother. Grandma hugged me and laughed and cried at the same time. That, alone, made it easy to forgive Chip for breaking his promise.

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DIAMOND ANNIVERSARY Mark says . . .

Old

H

ill York turned seventy-five, in 2011. That’s old! Chip wanted to do it up big.

And we did. We ordered new truck wraps, created a new tagline, and designed a new platinum emblem for our letterhead.

CAN DO Mark says . . .

Patriotism

A

fter 9/11, Americans reinvented patriotism. Hill York jumped on the bandwagon and hung U.S. flags in conference rooms, flew them from trucks, and sewed them on mechanics’ uniforms. The last Friday of the month, Hill Yorkers wore red, white, and blue, symbolizing our pride in America.

But Hill York’s patriotism didn’t start with a national tragedy. It started with Charlie Daniels. Charlie was in the Seabees. The Seabee’s motto is “Can Do.” Bob picked up on Charlie’s love of country, and “Can Do” became one of his favorite sayings.

Bob Senior was also patriotic. As the story goes he was so patriotic he marched his son down to the Coast Guard station and . . . well, nobody can tell the story better than Bob.

262.

Bob says . . .

Always Prepared

M

y father was stern. He was also smart. He taught me to be sincere, polite, wellbehaved, and always do my best. One afternoon, we were shooting baskets in our driveway, and I was having lots of fun, until Dad said, “You’re not even trying to make a basket,” threw the ball at me, and stomped inside.

Dad’s discipline went far beyond a pickup basketball game. The year was 1950. The Korean War just started. I knew Dad was very patriotic, but I didn’t know how that might play out in my world until the day he drove me to the American Bank building, stopped the car, and said, “Get out! Go to the Coast Guard office. Take the admissions test.”

He didn’t ask me if I wanted to join the Coast Guard. He just said, “Git!” So I said, “Yes, sir,” took the test, passed, and was on my way to New London, Connecticut, home of the United States Coast Guard Academy. Like always, Dad knew his stuff.

The Coast Guard ended up being one of the best experiences of my life.

After an eight-week, grueling school, I was commissioned as an ensign and assigned to serve on the one-hundred-eighty-foot cutter USCGC Gentian. One night, Captain Bailey said, “Ensign Lafferty, I’m gonna hit the rack. Go to the bridge. If you see suspicious lights, wake me up. But as deck officer, YOU are responsible for keeping your fellow Coasties safe.”

263.

About an hour into my watch, I spotted lights with constant bearings. That meant we were on a collision course. And those lights were coming fast. I ran to Captain Bailey’s quarters. “Captain! Wake up! Danger! Portside!”

He took one look and barked, “Come about!

Right! Ten degrees! Now!” I was scared but followed orders, and just in the nick of time avoided colliding with a huge freighter. After I calmed down, I realized I’d saved over a thousand men. I could almost hear Dad say, “Bobby, do the right thing, even when you’re scared as hell.”

I was on active duty eight months and in the reserves eight years before receiving an honorable discharge and retiring as a lieutenant. The Coast Guard made me a better all-around person. I learned discipline, leadership, respect, and what it means to be a friend. The Coast Guard’s motto “Semper Paratus”—always prepared—followed me through life. I loved the Coast Guard then, and I still love the Coast Guard.

Thank you, Dad. Lieutenant Robert S. Lafferty Junior 264.

SCHOLARSHIPS Mark says . . .

Never Pay to Play

H

ill York makes generous, charitable donations to colleges and universities— NSU, University of Miami, Palm Beach Atlantic University, Barry Ringling College, to name a few. Sometimes the money goes to athletic scholarships or athletic programs. For instance, when the president of Florida Institute of Technology wanted to start a football program he needed twelve founders to donate one hundred thousand dollars each. We were in. But the particular cause isn’t important. And it’s never “pay to play.” Our purpose is to help the institution.

265.

SHERIDAN HOUSE Bob says . . .

God Came Through

B

ob Barnes is a gritty preacher and a wonderful Christian speaker. I’ve been around eighty-some years, and have never heard anyone get the word of the Lord across better than Bob. He hits the nail square on the head—like when he prays for Hill York: “Lord, thank you for Hill York. Not many companies are willing to read the Bible and take its lessons to heart. Please, God, give Hill York’s leaders the strength and determination to continue on a Christian path. Thank you, Lord. Amen.”

Bob became president of Sheridan House Family Ministries in 1974. Sheridan House takes in troubled young people and provides food, household goods, financial assistance, and Christian seminars and counseling. Bob runs a tough ship. The kids are assigned chores; they’re required to do well in school. It’s a long journey, but with the Lord’s blessing and Bob’s leadership the kids amend their lives and turn out to be fine men and women. Where Bob found time to write ten books that are published in several languages beats me.

Over the years, Hill York has supported Bob and Sheridan House—we air conditioned houses, where kids live with foster parents; Hill Yorkers participate in kids’ contests or cheerlead; we hold clothing drives, food drives, and donate toys at Christmas. We play in their fundraising golf tournaments. Chip and I both donate money out of our own pockets.

When Bob Barnes was first thinking about buying the sixty acres of land Sheridan House now owns, he said to me, “It’s a beautiful property—just right for us. But I don’t have the money.”

I said, “Bob! You always tell people to trust the Lord. Now it’s your turn.” Wouldn’t you know it? God came through.

266.

Chip Lafferty, Bob Barnes, and Bob Lafferty

ROCK STARS Chip says . . .

Leans on God

M

y son, Steel, is a professional wakeboarder. He started when he was only ten, and from day one, had no fear. Zero! Zip! He’d jump the wake and crash. Then get up and do it again. Come dark, I had to reel him in.

Just after Steel turned fourteen he became the youngest athlete to qualify for the Junior Men’s division of the Pro Wakeboard Tour. In 2010, he won first place at the Nationals, and in 2011, he was named MasterCraft Pro Wakeboard Tour rookie of the year. Today, he’s rated among the top ten wakeboarders in the world.

Sure, Steel is a superstar. But, like the rest of our family, he leans on God. He wears a T-shirt that says, “Love God. Love others. Love wake.”

Wakeboarding is an exciting, entertaining, and, frankly, dangerous sport. The pros love tricks. And Steel is a master—world renowned for his innovation and flair. So, in 2014, when the Wakeboard World Championships came to Mills Pond Park in Fort Lauderdale, I wanted to share the thrill of what it means to “catch some air.”

We put up a gigantic, air-conditioned tent and invited a thousand customers and Hill Yorkers. Our gold medal partners had front row seats. Then we treated them to a Dinner of Champions, overlooking the ocean at the Marriott Harbor Beach Resort.

People still talk about mingling with guys who are rock stars.

268.

THE LINKS Mark says . . .

The Bear’s Club

H

ill Yorkers love of golf goes back to Bob Lafferty Senior and Charlie Daniels.

Golf is social. It takes you to new places and offers new experiences. It builds relationships.

And the tradition continues. We don’t hire based on candidates’ golf scores, but it never hurts when they “just happen” to throw in how much they love the links!

We never hesitate to make a tee time and play with customers or vendors. Then there are golf tournaments. Various charities make lots of money on golf tournaments, and when Chip gets wind of a cause that enamors him, he’s very generous and makes a splash as a big-time sponsor.

Charlie Ewing treats customers to a day of golf.

Back in 2010, Palm Beach Atlantic University held a “Spend the day with Jack Nicklaus” charity tournament. Palm Beach was a good customer, and Bob was on their board, so he dug into his own pocket and came out with a ten-thousand-dollar donation.

The outing was at The Bear’s Club—Jack Nicklaus’ private course in Jupiter, Florida.

The course is magical—old pines, palmettos, native bushes; gently rolling, seven-thousand-yard layout; bunkers banked with special sand Jack had brought in from Ohio.

If that wasn’t enough, we were treated like royalty. When we got to the practice area and realized where we were, we thought we’d died and gone to golfer’s heaven. But the angels weren’t finished—The Golden Bear himself gave a lesson and played a hole with each foursome.

At tournament’s end, Palm Beach Atlantic counted over three hundred thousand bucks.

And Hill York’s golfers will talk forever about their once-in-a-lifetime round of golf.

Palm Beach Atlantic Golf Tournament Golfers le to right: Chip Lafferty, Bob Lafferty, Jack “e Golden Bear” Nicklaus, Pitt Hamilton, Jeff Phillabaum, Mark Kerney

Bob says . . .

Taught Myself

M

y Uncle Wes owned Woodcrest Country Club—a beautiful course designed

by William Flynn, in Cherry Hill, New Jersey. Dad loved golf and wanted me to get a feel for the game by caddying at Uncle Wes’s course. Mom said I was too small, but Uncle Wes said, “Don’t worry. He’ll be fine—just fine. Trust us.”

So there I was—day after day—hauling heavy bags, up and down hills, for eighteen holes. At the end of the round, the golfer handed me a dollar and a quarter—tip included. By summers end, I announced, “Golf is not in MY future.”

When we moved to Miami, I decided to try again and spent countless hours on the range at Miami Shores Country Club, swinging countless clubs. Then I walked to the practice putting green and putted a gazillion times. No one coached me. I taught myself. Before long, I thought: Maybe there IS something to this game.

271.

Gentleman’s Game

I

n high school, I joined Miami Edison’s golf team.

One afternoon, we were playing a match against Miami High. We were on the sixteenth hole, at Miami Shores Country Club, when I missed a shot. I didn’t just miss it, I missed it!

I threw my club. I looked around. I saw Dad climb into his car. I saw him drive off S.L.O.W.L.Y. Now what? Well, I slunk through our front door and said, “Dad, I did something wrong today.”

He said, “I know. Golf is a gentleman’s game. If I ever see you throw another golf club, you’ll never play another round of golf. DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND. ME?” “Yes, sir! I do, sir!”

The worst part was I was disappointed in myself because I’d disappointed Dad.

Bob Lafferty, Miami Edison Golf Team 272.

The Drop

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can’t begin to tell you how many rounds of golf I’ve played over the years. Let’s just say, “Lots.” Golfers remember every shot, on every hole, during every round. I won’t bore you with all my shots. But I will tell you about a special one: I was playing at Sea Island, and on the ninth hole I hit the ball to the left of the green. It wasn’t a great shot, but I was sure it landed between the water and the green.

Play stopped while the other three guys and I hunted for my ball. We hunted. We hunted some more. I was about ready to take my drop, when an alligator lifted his head out of the water. I couldn’t believe my eyes. But, sure enough, that big boy held my ball in his mouth, just as proud as could be.

Who was I to argue with an eight-hundredpound alligator over a golf ball that cost me three bucks? I stepped back and took my drop.

Bob, showing off his alligator golf socks 273.

My Picture

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wo of my most memorable rounds of golf were with Jack Nicklaus—one in 1970, and the other in 2010. The first was at Doral. Unbeknownst to me two buddies put my name in to play a tournament with Jack.

By the time I caught wind of what they did, I had to bust my butt to get there. But it worked out okay—I ended up outdriving Jack on one hole and got to say, “You’re away, Jack!”

He laughed, and signed a picture. My admiration for Jack continued. Then Palm Beach Atlantic University held a “Spend the day with Jack Nicklaus” charity tournament. Of course, I played. AND I was smart enough to take the picture Jack had signed forty years prior and have him sign it again.

Not Bad, Son

I’m far from a hero-worshiper, but I cherish my picture.

After all, not everyone has played golf with the number one golfer in the world.

E

very golfer’s dream is to hit a hole in one. I’ve hit four and am still out there swinging, hoping for number five.

I’m sure Dad is looking down saying, “Not bad, son. Not bad!”

I’m proud to tell you the Lafferty golf tradition continues with Chip. I’m far from looking down, but I’ll say it anyway, “Not bad, son. Not bad!”

274.

AIN’T NO FISH STORY Bob says . . .

Angler

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ike golf, fishing is in the Lafferty’s DNA. Dad loved to fish. I love to fish. Chip loves to fish. We never miss an opportunity to take a customer—or anyone—fishing. But before I tell you about fishing at Hill York I want to back up and tell you about Dad as a fisherman.

Shortly after we got settled in Miami, Dad bought a fishing boat, named it Solarama, and joined the hoity-toity Rod and Reel Club, on Hibiscus Island. Before a member could advance from novice to angler and wear the prestigious green angler badge, he had to catch ten different fish, at specified weights, on the proper-size tackle. Dad was Dad. He excelled in whatever he did. Novice didn’t cut bait.

Dad and I were fishing off Baker’s Haulover. All Dad needed was one pompano to make angler. Time passed. Nothing.

But wait . . . Dad felt a tug on his line. “I got one, Bobby!

Take if off the hook. Put it in the cooler. Careful now!”

I grabbed Dad’s prize, squeezed, and darn if it didn’t squirt through my fingers and flip back into the Gulf. I thought I was dead meat.

But Dad didn’t rant and rave. He didn’t call me a clumsy kid or spank me. He said, “Bobby, there’s more than one pompano in this ocean. I’ll just catch another one.”

By late afternoon, we’d reeled in two hundred and fifty-six pompano and were still cleaning fish at midnight.

275.

Bob and Chip

Poor Vic

B

ut that’s not the end of my fish story. We had a wonderful, elderly salesman at Hill York who loved to fish. His name was Vic. Vic could hardly believe Dad and I caught over two hundred pompano.

Monday morning, Dad went to Orlando to visit our new office. Monday afternoon, I said, “Vic, Dad’s out of town. Let’s take the rest of the day off and see if the pompano are still biting.”

“Are you SURE, Bob?” “Yeah, Vic, I’m SURE.” We caught fifty pompano that afternoon, and I thought Vic would never shut up about our good luck. As we approached the dock, Vic said, “Bob! That looks like your dad.” And, sure enough, Dad returned early to try his luck before dark.

Poor Vic. He was certain Dad would fire him on the spot. But Dad never said a word.

Vic and I jumped out of the boat, and Dad headed out.

Gave Up the Ghost

Y

ears later, I took Rob Strehlow, a good customer from H. C. Construction, fishing in Boca Grande Pass—the tarpon capital of the world.

A one-hundred-eighty-three-pound tarpon dragged our big outboard over five miles.

But we stuck with him, and after an hour and a half, he gave up the ghost.

That ain’t no fish story!

277.

EXECS Herb says . . .

Top Dogs

H

ill York has been a member of the International Executive’s Association—Execs—forever. Not just anybody can get in. You must be invited, sponsored by a current member, and approved by the board of directors.

Only solid community members, with reputable businesses, make the cut. But once you’re in, you’re in. Execs’ tagline is “dependable sources of supply.” Members go above and beyond to help each other.

Members are companies’ top dogs. They know what it means to run a company and how to relate to other top dogs. Frankly, business relationships on that level are invaluable.

Hill York was invited to join the Execs almost seventy years ago. Bob Senior was first. He joined the Execs in Miami, and when he passed, Bob Junior took his place.

I represented Hill York in Fort Lauderdale, and after I retired, Chip jumped in and before long was president. Jeff was a founding member of the Executive’s Association of the Palm Beaches. If you add all our years together, Hill York has participated in the Execs one hundred and forty years! We take Execs seriously.

278.

Each week, Execs hold an early morning breakfast meeting, and when it’s your turn, you give a “classification talk.” That means you stand in front of the entire membership and pitch your company—what you do, how you do it, and why it’s important.

Your goal is to get Execs to use your services and recommend you to others.

A second weekly commitment is to attend a social gathering at a member’s place of business—hang out and get to know each other on a personal level. Let’s face it: Hill York’s office building is nice but nothing special. Sure, we could show off our warehouse and shop, but who wants to get dressed to the nines and traipse around a bunch of equipment?

So one year, we entertained Execs by demonstrating a machine a Hill Yorker built from the remnants of an old ice cream maker. His new machine had a hopper that squeezed oranges and chilled the juice. That was interesting, but it got more interesting when we added vodka and made screwdrivers.

Even screwdrivers couldn’t compete with the Dolphin’s training facility at NSU. We treated Execs to a tour of the entire place. They ended up on the practice field, where we had games for the kids. It was one heck of a social gathering. People still talk about it.

279.

Bob says . . .

Tradition

M

iami’s Execs met every Tuesday morning at the Columbus Hotel, on Biscayne Boulevard. The Columbus is Miami’s most distinguished hotel—a very appropriate venue for Execs.

Our club had one hundred members. Of course, we all wanted to look our best for the meeting. So every Tuesday, I stopped in Buck Ashmore’s barbershop, he cut my hair, and I was on my way.

Buck was a barber’s barber, so I wasn’t the only Exec to get a Tuesday morning haircut. Buck was also an Exec, so if you didn’t get there early enough to snag a seat in his chair, too bad.

Buck was a leader of leaders. He knew everything and everybody—the mayor of Miami without being the mayor—a master of relationships.

Buck and I were in the same Rotary. Every year, Rotarians played Kiwanis in golf.

Every year, Kiwanis accused us of cheating. But it was all in jest—we loved to kibitz and razz each other. It was tradition.

280.

COMMUNITY RELATIONSHIPS Mark says . . .

Our Rock

C

ommunity relationships are our rock. When times are good, Hill York is around; when everything goes south, we refuse to bail. No matter what, we work hard and smart to better our communities.

Communities are built on employment. When people can’t find jobs, they leave, and the community collapses. The exact number of Hill York jobs fluctuates from year to year, but I’m proud to tell you many, many people claim the title “Hill Yorker.”

Herb says . . .

Ph.D. in Relationships

B

ob and I are engineers. But we didn’t sit at the drawing board and design air-conditioning systems. Nor did we put pencil to paper and develop bids. We dealt with customers. And where do customers come from?

Relationships. Bob holds a Ph.D. in relationships.

It all started when he was in Miami and continued when he relocated to Fort Lauderdale. Bob believes in the community, and he believes in what Hill York does for the community. So he spent lots of time building relationships that lead to business and business that leads to building a better community.

Nobody can tell the story about the Orange Bowl Committee better than Bob . . .

281.

Bob says . . .

Worker Bee

I

t all started with a phone call from Ben Benjamin. “Lafferty, what are you doing for lunch?” he asked.

“I don’t have plans, so I guess I’ll go with you.”

“Good choice. Thanks to me you were just elected to the Orange Bowl Committee.

Get your butt over here, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

We hung up, and I thought: I always wanted to be on the Orange Bowl Committee, but it’s a closed-circuit group, so I wasn’t sure I had a chance.

I started out as a worker bee and did all the dirty jobs—cleaning ashtrays and picking up dirty glasses in hospitality rooms. Then I worked my way through three ranks of vice presidents to president.

Million Great Contacts

T

he Orange Bowl Committee is made up of movers and shakers. I got to sit in the press box, where I met university presidents, and people like Bear Bryant— the god of coaches. I shook hands with Ernie Seiler—the most important guy in the history of Miami sports and Jack Seiler’s grandfather. (Jack ended up becoming Fort Lauderdale’s forty-first mayor.)

I got to ride in parades and have my picture taken with stars. I got to go on the field and toss the ball around with Heisman Trophy winners.

It was a beautiful thing. I worked at building relationships and made a million great contacts for Hill York—contacts that still pay off.

282.

COMMUNICATION CHALLENGE Mark says . . .

Hill Yorkers, Inc.

E

very company faces what I call the “communication challenge.” Hill York, with its two hundred and fifty employees, spread out in offices, the field, and on the roof doesn’t get to pass GO and collect two hundred dollars.

So in 1972, Bob Lafferty announced HILL YORKERS, INC. And as always, Bob put his money where his mouth is.

284.

In April 1971, the first Hill Yorker rolled off the press.

Over the years, The Hill Yorker did its job and did it well. Issues included messages from the leadership team, company news, birthdays, wedding announcements, wedding anniversaries, company anniversaries, get well wishes, sympathy messages, congratulations on jobs well done, recipes, quizzes, Hill Yorkers’ personal tidbits, mystery employees, jokes, and always a Christian message.

Checkmates

L

ike many good things, The Hill Yorker evolved and got better. During the ’90s, Herb Dell introduced checkmates—messages inserted into paychecks. But when Herb retired checkmates retired with him.

Life Doesn’t Get Any Better

T

hat didn’t work for me. Something had to be done—the left hand needed to know what the right hand was doing—Hill Yorkers needed to be united as a family. So I wrote a one-pager that went out to the service company. Before long, my one-pager turned into a more formal newsletter, and when service combined with construction, we sent it to the entire company. But I still write my column.

I’m confident it’s a hit. Hill Yorkers say, “Thanks for sharing.” or “I get your point.”

Those comments are meaningful because, frankly, it can be scary to reach out to a company executive—even when that executive is just regular-old Mark Kerney.

My writing has a decidedly Christian slant. Every so often a technician will bring up a point about the Lord or Christianity and I think: Where did THAT come from?

We’ve never had this conversation. Then it dawns on me: He’s reading the newsletter.

What I say does have a positive impact.

Life doesn’t get any better.

286.

PRAYER Bob says . . .

Best Decision

W

hen I was a kid, my family went to the Methodist church. Back then, church itself wasn’t all that important. But I did learn to pray in church, and prayer was, and still is, important.

I memorized a prayer my Sunday school teacher taught me, and seventy-five years later I still say it, “Lord, make me truly thankful for what we are about to receive.

In Christ’s name, Amen.” That goes to show you how important a person can be in your life. I’m still thankful for my Sunday school teacher.

I’m also thankful for my wife, Joan. My deep faith started with her. She’s big into church and got our kids, Kim, Chip, and Amy, involved. Joan is one smart cookie, a wonderful mother, and a good Christian woman. Everybody loves my wife.

290.

Joan prays for our family to have a fine relationship with Jesus and taught our kids to love the Lord. I guess likes attract likes, because now their spouses and children also love the Lord. And the Laffertys love each other—we love to get together and celebrate birthdays and holidays. Joan gives the Lord credit. I agree. Still, I can’t help but think He answered her prayers.

The year Kim was in eleventh grade, she headed up Spiritual Emphasis Week for kids at Westminster Christian School, in Miami. When Pastor Dan Yeary, the keynote speaker, walked on stage, Joan and I snuck in and sat in the back row.

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect but was surprised by Pastor Yeary’s simple, yet powerful, message, “Give them Jesus!” The kids went wild. I’d never heard anyone talk to young people like he did. They held hands and sang. It was very touching.

Well, all I knew about God, Jesus, and church was the prayer I’d learned from my Sunday school teacher. So I decided to join my wife and kids and find out what faith is all about. That was my best decision, ever.

e Lafferty Family

GOD’S WORD Bob says. . .

Rejoice

I

’m proud to tell you I’m a Christian. And I’m proud to tell you my faith influences Hill York. I love Hill York. Some claim I breathe, eat, and sleep air conditioning.

That’s true. Every hour, practically every minute, of every day I think about how Hill York can air condition the world.

It will probably surprise you to learn Hill York is not number one in my life. My priorities, and in turn, Hill York’s priorities, are faith, family, work, in that order. Faith supports us through good times and hard times. It teaches us God is in control of everything from catching pompano to winning huge jobs.

The Bible is God’s word. I read it regularly and hope you will too. My favorite Bible verse is from Philippians. Paul says, “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again, I say, rejoice.

Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

BIBLE STUDY Bob says . . .

Real World

O

nce a month Hill York provides lunch and hosts a Bible study. Bob Barnes, president of Sheridan House, runs it. People love him—adore him. They sit on the edge of their seats, spellbound. Bob’s messages are so powerful people cry. Nobody, including me and Joan, wants to miss Bob Barnes.

I’ll never forget the day Bob told the Bible story about Simon Peter and two other disciples, fishing in the Sea of Galilee. The first night they didn’t catch a single fish.

Early next morning they noticed a guy standing on the shore. He said, “Friends, did you catch any fish?”

“Nope. Sure didn’t,” they answered.

“Throw your net off the right side of the boat.”

The disciples weren’t sure who this guy was, but he seemed to know a thing or two about fishing. So they threw their net where he suggested and before long it was so heavy they couldn’t haul it in.

Simon Peter lit up like a Christmas tree: “That’s Jesus!” He jumped in the water, swam to shore, and threw his coat around the Lord. By the time the other disciples rowed in, Jesus had started a fire and was cooking fish for breakfast.

True confessions: My mind wandered. I decided next time I went tarpon fishing I’d listen for Jesus’s voice telling me where to drop my line!

That just goes to show you Bob’s Bible lessons always apply to the real world. People leave Bible study knowing and loving the Lord.

293.

CHRISTIAN WAY Bob says . . .

Duty

N

ow you know faith is my number one priority. I don’t see how it could be anything else. Generosity, kindness, sharing what you have, and helping those in trouble is the Christian way.

Chip, Hill York’s partners, and many Hill Yorkers love the Lord and aren’t afraid to talk about God, Jesus, and the Bible. And NOBODY can make us change our ways.

It’s our duty to pass on our faith in the Lord and messages in the Good Book. After all, it’s right there in black and white—in Mark 16, Jesus says, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature.”

295.

IT HAPPENS Chip says . . .

Only Way

L

ike Dad told you, Hill York’s priorities are faith, family, work, in that order. That’s how my grandfather ran Hill York; that’s how my dad ran Hill York; that’s how I run Hill York. When, and only when, those priorities fall in line, is life fulfilling—satisfying.

If a Hill Yorker needs to attend a church event, on Wednesday, in the middle of the afternoon, I want them to go. If their six year old plays a soccer game, on Thursday, at four o’clock, I want them to go. That’s where they need to be—that’s where they should be.

Hill Yorkers, listen up: Faith and family come before work, because when you put them first, your life is in order and work comes naturally. You’ll work harder and enjoy life more. Your work won’t suffer, because you’ll figure out how to get it done— maybe you’ll work Saturday; maybe you’ll work late one evening. Work is about getting the job done, not punching a time clock.

I’m not concerned. I know when you know faith and family come before work you’ll appreciate, respect, and love the opportunity to work at Hill York. It happens. It’s the only way to run a business.

296.

GOOD BOOK Chip says . . .

The Lord Is My Mentor

I

’m a Christian. The Laffertys are Christians. But we don’t ram our faith down anybody’s throat. Nor, do we discriminate against other religions. Some Hill Yorkers are Jewish, some Muslim, some Buddhist, others have no formal religion. We support others’ feelings and beliefs, no matter what they are.

Still, you should know I operate Hill York based on Christian faith, and I make decisions based on Christian principles. But I’m not in this solo. The Lord is my mentor.

And there’s a really good book that guides me. I didn’t write it. Somebody beat me to it! (In case you want to read it, it’s called the Bible.) My go-to Bible verse is Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.”

THE END Herb says . . .

Counsel from a Jew

I

’m a Jew. Christians and Jews practice their faiths differently. But did it bother Lafferty to take counsel from a Jew? Absolutely not. He never thought twice. To Bob Lafferty, if you’re a good person, you’re a good person; if you’re a bad person, you’re a bad person, no matter how you practice your faith. The End. 297.

SERVANT LEADERSHIP Chip says . . .

Bottom-up

M

y job is to support two hundred and fifty Hill Yorkers. It’s like I have two hundred and fifty kids. They all have needs, wants, desires, and problems. I do whatever it takes to help. It’s called “servant leadership.” In other words, the model is bottom-up, not top-down.

When Hill Yorkers come to me with problems, it’s comforting to share God’s word and explain, even when life is horrible, some good will come. God never gives you more than you can handle.

Then there are days Hill Yorkers say, “Chip, I see you’re successful. I want some of what you have.” Again, I share my faith and explain I couldn’t do what I do without God’s guidance. It’s very comforting—life changing—to know Christ and hold Him in your heart. Only then, do your values change, and you stop worrying about the almighty dollar.

FAMILY TO FAMILY Chip says . . .

Favorite Job

H

ill York is a family-owned company, operated for families. YOU can chat with the owner. If you work for a public company, the CEO is probably some guy, sitting behind a mammoth mahogany desk, on the eightieth floor of a skyscraper, in New York City. You never see him. You never get anything done. But at Hill York, your CEO is a regular guy, with an open door. Come on down! If we decide to do something, we do it. And it’s fun.

It can be difficult to be face-to-face with the CEO. But don’t let my title scare you. I wear a suit and tie to work, but I’m social, low-key, easy. Please talk to me, even if it’s just to say, “Hi.” Tell me about your kids. I’ll tell you about mine. I love to chat about family.

I’ll tell you a story: One evening, I stepped into a manager’s office to say good night, and found a brand-new Hill Yorker, talking with his brand-new boss. I’m always excited to meet new Hill Yorkers, so after I introduced myself, I said, “Please come to my office, sit for five minutes, and we’ll get to know each other.”

He gave me a strange look but followed me down the hall. Before I said a word, he said, “I can’t believe I’m sitting in your office.”

“Why?” I asked.

He said, “When I quit my last job, my boss said, ‘So you’re leaving us for Hill York, huh? They’re a huge company. You’ll never meet the CEO.’ But five minutes after I’m hired, here I am, just chatting with you.”

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But that’s me—I enjoy chatting. Twice a year, I visit each company office, just to say, “Hi,” and chat. Granted, at first, people are scared: “Why does Chip want to see me?

Am I in trouble? Am I getting fired?” But when they realize there’s no agenda—all I want to do is meet them—our time together is very real and rich. Face-to-face time with Hill Yorkers is my very favorite job.

PROUD HILL YORK MOMENT Charlie says . . .

Got You Covered

W

hen I started working at Hill York back in 1992, my wife and I didn’t have children. Now we have six—all born close together. My wife’s last pregnancy was very, very difficult. She wound up in Jackson Memorial Hospital, in danger of bleeding out, was on total bed rest six weeks before our daughter was born, and had to stay in the hospital two months after the birth. Life in the Ewing home was crazy.

One morning, I cornered Mark Kerney, who was my boss at the time. “Mark,” I said, “I have five little kids, a brand-new baby, a wife who’s hospitalized, and I live in Palm Beach. I honestly don’t know what to do.”

Mark didn’t blink. “No worries. GO! Take care of yourself and your family. We’ve got you covered.”

I was out two months and got paid just as if I was working full time. I look back now and laugh: I’d stop in occasionally and call regularly. “Hi! It’s me! Charlie! I’m still here!” I guess paranoia raised its nasty head—do I need Hill York more than Hill York needs ME?!

Now that I’m an executive, I get to do the same for others. A current twelve-year Hill Yorker is fighting liver cancer. She’s a single mom. Her chemo didn’t work, so she’s being treated with radiation. It was a proud Hill York moment when I said, “No worries. GO! Take care of yourself and your family. We’ve got you covered.”

301.

OFF THE CLOCK Mark says . . .

Not Expected

A

few years ago a mechanic was pulling copper tubing out of a compressor. As the oil heated up, the unit exploded, and his face, arms, and hands were burned badly. The service manager rushed him to the hospital and made sure he received the proper medical care.

There’s more: During the mechanic’s long recovery process, the company paid him just as if he was on the job.

There’s even more: The mechanic’s wife didn’t have a car. Nor did she speak English.

So every day, for months, the service manager drove to Miami, picked up the mechanic’s wife and family, drove them to the hospital, and waited while they visited.

Was the service manager on the clock? Nope. He was on personal time, both before and after work.

It’s not expected.

It is, though, what Hill Yorkers do for Hill Yorkers.

302.

GOD PROVIDES Chip says . . .

Remain Faithful

D

uring the eighty years Hill York has been in business, we’ve survived ten economic storms. Why? When we show a profit, the executive team’s top priority is to invest in the company. So when the next economic storm hits—and it will—we can batten down the hatches and weather that one, too.

I never take my bonus until I know Hill York is safe. If the Laffertys, or other executives, took it all, we’d probably be okay when the next storm hits. But two hundred and fifty others wouldn’t. That’s not right.

Sure, we have a survival plan. Sure, our plan is solid. But Chip Lafferty and the other executives aren’t in charge. God is. And God is very generous. We work hard and remain faithful. When things get tough, we lean on God for support and guidance.

And that’s very comforting—that’s Hill York’s “pot of gold.”

303.

TRUST THE LORD Charlie says . . .

God’s Plan

T

he Laffertys are astute business owners. They operate a VERY successful business. But they’re different. Instead of trusting the president of the United States, or the economy, or even their own skills, they trust the Lord.

Starting with Mr. Lafferty, and continuing with Chip, the Lafferty’s faith in God gives Hill Yorkers a comfortable feeling—they believe they work for God’s purpose, instead of just to make a buck.

Every Monday morning, Chip and the executive VPs hold a prayer meeting. We pray for people who are sick or going through tough times. That’s easy to understand. But this might surprise you: We do NOT ask God to give Hill York jobs. Instead, we pray for jobs that fulfill His plan. Why? We’re not so big and masterful we can create an outcome. If we do what we’re supposed to do and trust the Lord, He will do the rest.

There’s an old saying: If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans. It’s true.

Not everything will turn out the way we want it to. If God wants us to get a job, we’ll get it. If He doesn’t, maybe we avoided a bad situation—we’ve learned it’s equally important to avoid bad jobs as it is to win good ones.

We trust Hill Yorkers to be the best in the industry. We support them to do their jobs. But when we have a win, God gets the glory.

304.

TEST OF TIME Chip says . . .

Compass

S

hortly after I was appointed CEO, it occurred to me Hill York didn’t have mission, vision, or value statements written in black and white. So I set about building them. Let me tell you crafting a company’s mission, vision, and values is wicked hard.

Each and every word must mean something and be painstakingly chosen. That requires deep thought, commitment, bear-naked truth, and a huge dose of reality.

I’m proud to tell you, for over fifteen years, our mission, vision, and values have withstood the test of time and are a great compass.

MISSION Chip says . . .

Fall in Line

O

ur mission statement spells out what we want Hill Yorkers to do and how we want them to do it. I lean on it, live by it, and will die by it.

I’ll explain . . .

Hill York solves problems in a hot, humid, sticky environment. We don’t sell air conditioning. We sell comfort. We’re in the solutions business.

“Mutually beneficial” is a key phrase. The door swings both ways. Customers must like us, and we must like them. I won’t allow customers to treat Hill Yorkers like garbage. I’ll say, “Thanks, but no thanks,” and walk away.

We give back generously to our communities. That practice started with my two grandfathers, was passed down to my dad, and now it’s up to me.

Hill York won’t work people to death. We care deeply about Hill Yorkers and their families. And we provide opportunities for personal and professional growth. When you’re a Hill Yorker, you have a future with the company. Our goal is to invest in you, our most precious asset, and make you a Hill Yorker for life.

If you don’t fall in line with our mission, you might as well pack up and leave, because you’ve stepped over our boundaries. If you do stick around, the company has your back. You are family.

307.

VISION Chip says . . .

Whatever It Takes

F

rankly, if you’re not hell-bent to make life more comfortable, we don’t want you working for Hill York. You might carry a customer’s groceries upstairs, or hand him a bottle of cold water, or clean a nasty equipment room. You might take a few extra steps to fetch a fellow Hill Yorker’s copy out of the copy machine and deliver it to his or her desk.

If you’re interested in making life more comfortable—whatever it takes—we welcome you to Hill York. If you don’t, please look for another job.

309.

310.

VALUES Chip says . . .

Love, Chip Lafferty

O

ur values back up our mission and vision. I’ll sum them up so they’re easy to understand:

Faith, family, work, in that order.

Love, Chip Lafferty, CEO and President, Hill York Air Conditioning and Energy Solutions

WORLD BY THE TAIL Bob says . . .

Just Yesterday

W

here did the years go? It seems like just yesterday I was a kid, sweeping floors and cleaning algae out of cooling towers. Then I grew into a young buck, making my first sales call. I had the world by the tail.

I blinked. Sixty years flew by. I loved every second. After all, Hill York is recognized and respected; my family is involved; we have fun; Hill Yorkers are treated well. I couldn’t ask for more.

I still have an office and am on the board, but I’m officially retired. I no longer own the company. I sold every share to my son, Chip. That makes him the “big cheese”— the prime mover.

So here I am—eighty-two years old, looking back, reminiscing. But in case you’re wondering, I’ve still got the world by the tail.

314.

ALL ABOUT BOB Bob says . . .

Legacy

F

or eighty years and counting, Hill York has been a privately-owned family business, operated by three generations of Lafferty men. The fourth is on deck.

You’re probably confused by all the Bobs. I’ll set the record straight. My dad’s name was Robert Steel Lafferty Senior—Steel was in honor of a family friend. My name is Robert Steel Lafferty Junior, after my father.

When Joan and I had a son, we named him Robert Wesley Lafferty, after me and Joan’s dad, Charles “Charlie” Wesley Daniels. Charlie’s nickname was Chip. So because Joan and I didn’t want a “Big Bob,” and a “Little Bob,” and Bob’s all over the place, we called our son Chip—a chip off the old block.

Then Chip’s first son was born—another Robert Wesley Lafferty, after his father. We intended to call him Robert. But on his first day of school, when his teacher asked what he wanted to be called, he said, “Call me Bob—like my grandfather.”

So now you get it: Hill York’s legacy is all about Bob. My dad’s legacy is me; my legacy is my son; my son’s legacy is his son.

315.

Bob Number Four and Bob Number Two

NEXT UP Bob says . . .

Honored

B

ob is just getting started at Hill York, and he’s doing a mighty fine job. I’m proud of him. Every so often somebody calls Hill York, asks for Bob Lafferty, and I pick up the line. When the caller figures out it’s me they say, “I’m so sorry to bother you, Mr. Lafferty. I need to talk to young Bob.” I smile and say, “No problem. I’m honored to be mistaken for my grandson. After all, he’s next up.”

LONGEST LIVING HILL YORKER Bob says . . .

Share

P

eople ask if Dad was my mentor. I learned a lot from him. But I don’t like the word “mentor.” Dad and I were partners. I like to think I’m my own mentor, who asks questions of my partners. Leslie Grant was my partner. I could call any time, even in the middle of the night, and he’d answer my questions.

I did the same for other guys. They lined up outside my office, wanting to learn from me.

Being the longest living Hill Yorker, it was (and still is) my responsibility to share a thing or two.

Dress Properly

I

know times have changed, but I don’t like to see Hill Yorkers wearing dungarees to the office or showing up without a tie. Nor do I like to see mechanics or service technicians wearing dirty uniforms. If you don’t look good, you don’t give Hill York or our customers the respect they deserve.

317.

Proud, Yet Humble

H

ill York is the best air-conditioning company in South Florida. Be proud, yet humble. Take me, for instance—one of my idiosyncrasies is parking spots. I don’t need or want a big sign that shouts, “RESERVED for Bob Lafferty.” I’d rather park on the street and walk a couple blocks than make a Hill Yorker walk because our parking lot is full.

Learn

Y

ou’re all different. Don’t judge. Respect your differences and learn from them.

Back in the day, we held sales meetings every Thursday morning, and our sales engineers shared their successes and tales of woe. Then we talked. Everybody learned from everybody else.

Golden Rule

P

ractice the Golden Rule. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. In other words, treat people right. Treating customers right is a no-brainer. But don’t forget fellow Hill Yorkers. We spend lots of money treating people right, and it’s worth every penny. When Hill Yorkers see what we do, they know we care, and they love Hill York—not Bob Lafferty; not Chip Lafferty; but Hill York.

Laugh

L

augh—a lot. Laughter really is the best medicine. Do you know people who laugh live longer? Look at work, and life, through your “funny eye.” Before long, laughter will spread like wildfire.

Have Fun

D

on’t take yourself too seriously. Have fun.

Do whatever it takes to make work more than work.

Love Each Other

L

ove each other. Respect each other. Talk about work but don’t forget personal stuff.

Ask, “How are your kids?” or “What did you do on your vacation?” Personal stuff builds a bond. For instance, when people say, “Bob, your kids are so nice. They’re so competent.

How did they turn out so well?” I say, “Easy! I married the right girl.” I guarantee you no one will forget those six simple words.

319.

Tradition

Original Hill York building on South Andrews

E

mbrace change, but stay true to tradition. We came within a whisker of moving our main office down the street. But Chip decided to stay where we are. It’s a perfect location. And the thing is Hill Yorkers love our old building on South Andrews.

Go Beyond

F

ulfill obligations, but go beyond expectations. Then hang on, because we’re going to the moon and taking Hill York’s book with us!

Love the Lord

T

he most important thing I’ll share is love the Lord. When you put your faith in Jesus Christ, you never need worry about a thing.

320.

REMEMBER ME Bob says . . .

Bob Number Two

W

hen I’m no longer around to give you advice, I hope you remember me—Bob Number Two. I hope you give me an A for generosity. The Lord blessed me with the wherewithal to help people, and that’s my greatest joy.

I hope you’ll say I was a friendly, honest, sincere guy, with a great sense of humor— a guy who was always on time, gave a fair price, and created pleasant experiences.

Throw in, “That Lafferty was a skilled fisherman and great golfer,” and you nailed it.

SHIRTSLEEVES-TO-SHIRTSLEEVES Chip says . . .

Warning Six-year-old Chip

T

he “shirtsleeves-to-shirtsleeves” warning hung over my head forever. I know the odds: The first generation starts the business; the second generation builds it up; the third generation tears it down; the fourth generation doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell to continue.

I’m the third generation.

Everybody told me I’d wreck Hill York.

I didn’t.

It all started back when I was just a kid . . .

322.

Bob, Joan, Kim, Chip, Amy

FIREMAN Chip says . . .

Leave It to Beaver World

W

hen people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said, “Fireman!”

Every evening, my family sat around the dinner table, listening to Dad talk about Hill York. “You gotta know your costs. If your costs are higher than your sales price, you lose money. If you lose money, you can’t pay your people. If you can’t pay your people, you can’t stay in business.” But I wasn’t all that interested. After all, a fireman didn’t need to know about job costs.

323.

Twelve-year-old Chip, with sisters Kim and Amy

I grew up with wonderful parents and two great sisters, Kim and Amy. I was the brother in the middle.

I played with Legos and G.I. Joe, was mechanically minded, and loved to tinker. I spent hours in our garage, building birdhouses and small boats I floated on the canal behind our house. Then there was my Schwinn stingray bike—that bike was my pride and joy. I added every accessory I could get my hands on and took it apart and put it back together a bazillion times, just to figure out how it worked.

I didn’t get in trouble during elementary school.

But I wasn’t goody-two-shoes. During middle and high school, I lived a little closer to the edge—collected a few speeding tickets, but nothing big. My folks never had to bail me out of jail! I’m creative, so I kept busy with fun, interesting projects.

I rode my bike to school, played in the street with my friends, and golfed on Saturday. The Hill York picnic, complete with roasted pig, hot dogs, popcorn, and more desserts than any kid could hope for, was a really big deal. Dad was in charge, so I got to run the soda machine. Life was different— simple. It was a Leave It to Beaver world.

324.

SLAVE LABOR Chip says...

“Good Day”

W

hen I was about twelve, Dad took me to the office, where I was allowed to sit with Noani, our receptionist, and she let me “help” her operate the switchboard. When an outside call came in, a light lit up, and she allowed me to push a plug into a hole before she took the call. When somebody called from inside the company, I graduated to saying, “Operator! May I help you please?”

I worked at Hill York during high school summer vacations—outside all day, in the heat, sweating, sweeping, lifting heavy equipment, and cleaning gross algae out of coils. On a “good day,” I worked on a service truck, as an apprentice. The real service guys were in charge of the boss’s kid: “Tote this! Drag that over there! Be careful!

Don’t get hurt on my watch!”

I got paid—a little. In my book, I was slave labor. A fireman’s career path looked better and better.

TWO JOB OFFERS Chip says . . .

Choose!

I

really liked science and math, so I enrolled in the engineering program, at Southern Methodist University, in Dallas. My roommates were psychology majors. At night, while they partied at the bar, I studied in the library. I worked my butt off but am proud to tell you I earned an engineering degree.

When I graduated college, I had two job offers. One was from General Dynamics to work in their engineering department building F16 fighter jets—pay thirty-one grand. The second was to work at Hill York as an assistant project manager—pay twenty-one grand. When I asked Dad what I should do, he said, “Choose!”

“But, Dad, I . . .”

Dad interrupted, “Chip, Hill York will probably work out in the long run, but it’s your choice.”

I took a breath and chose Hill York.

OWNER’S SON Chip says . . .

Wicked Hard

S

o there I was, a green kid, working with experienced Hill Yorkers. That was hard, but being the owner’s son was wicked hard. Nobody wanted to help me. Everybody watched every move. I needed to earn respect, so I put my head down and worked twice as hard as anyone else.

I was also lucky. My boss, Pete Goetzman, was a great engineer, solid Christian, and willing mentor. Pete encouraged me to spend lots of time in the field, and questions I asked him turned into teaching moments. To this day, I thank God for Pete Goetzman.

327.

CAREER PATH Chip says . . .

Inside Out

M

y Hill York career path has been linear: I started as an assistant project manager and advanced to a project manager.

As a project manager, I was responsible for all aspects of bringing projects in on time and under budget. During my five years as a project manager, I successfully handled fifty large projects and learned the business from the inside out.

My next job was vice president of construction. All project managers reported to me, so I was responsible for all large construction projects. From there, I became executive vice president of sales, and the estimating team reported to me.

328.

LEAPFROGGED Chip says . . .

Single Jump

H

ere’s where it gets interesting—in 2007, I leapfrogged Herb Dell and went from executive vice president to CEO in a single jump. But, actually, Herb promoted me and mentored me through the process.

Herbs says . . .

Quick on My Feet

C

harlie Daniels hired me as a sales manager, and Bob Lafferty promoted me to president. Well, one afternoon, Bob said, “Herb, please come into my office. We need to talk.” No big deal—Bob and I always talked about business in his office, but for some reason he seemed anxious.

I sat down. Bob cleared his throat. He steepled his fingers. He leaned forward. “Herb,” he said, “you’re more than I could hope for as Hill York’s president. There’s nothing wrong with your performance. But I’ve got to make a change.”

“Change?” I asked.

Bob said, “Here’s the deal. I want Chip to join the Young Professional’s Organization.

That means he has to be either president or CEO of a company that does over ten million in sales. So I’m promoting Chip to president. I won’t change your job description or your compensation package—just your title.”

Lucky for me I’m quick on my feet. “I’ve got a better idea, Bob. You become chairman.

Chip jumps over me and becomes CEO. I stay president. And everybody’s happy.”

329.

In half a heartbeat, Bob said, “Done!”

Admittedly, for two minutes, I thought I was toast. But all’s well that ends well.

Shortly after, Bob worked fewer hours and trusted me to be his right-hand, left-hand, and probably right-foot man. I was proud when Bob said, “I don’t need to sit in the office. I’ve got a fax. I’ve got a phone. I’ve got a Herb Dell. Every company needs a Herb Dell.”

But that was Bob. He delegated. He allowed certain people to take charge and gave us authority to run the business. Bob had a vision he drove down to us. Then we created an action plan, had him sign off, and ran with it.

Bob’s principle worked for me, and it worked for Hill York. I lived and died by large projects and treated Hill York like it was my own business.

Chip says . . .

Under My Wing

S

o that’s what happened: Herb remained president; I transitioned to fully functioning CEO and took Hill York under my wing.

Chip, Bob, and Herb

UNCONDITIONAL SUPPORT Chip says . . .

Sweetheart

D

ad and I are Hill York’s face—the out-there guys who make it happen. But we couldn’t do what we do without the unconditional support of our wives, Joan Lafferty and Mary Jean Lafferty. As an owner you can’t predict your schedule. You gotta be flexible. Mom and Mary Jean go with the flow.

An owner’s life can be stressful. Sometimes I’m home with the family, but I’m not really home. My mind is on work, worrying about this, that, or the other thing. For thirty-five years, Mary Jean has been my rock—my support system. She gets an A+ for putting up with me and taking care of our three sons, Bob, Steel, and Daniel.

Then there’s the technology piece. I never unplug. There’s a super big difference between today and the days before cell phones. Before cell phones, when we went on vacation, I was on vacation. But today, I’m reachable anywhere in the world.

I know technology is invasive. I know that’s not fair to my family. But it takes Mary Jean to remind me. “Ah, Chip, you know that faith, family, work thing? IT’S. NOT. WORKING.” Mary Jean was my high school sweetheart. Thirty-five years later, and counting, she’s still my sweetheart. Every day I thank God for blessing me with my wife, Mary Jean Lafferty.

331.

Chip and Mary Jean Lafferty on their wedding day

RIGHT THING TO DO Chip says . . .

Play Fair

N

obody can run a business like Hill York without learning about people. People are unpredictable—even the best intended create problems. Problems don’t go away. If you ignore a problem it typically gets worse, and as it proceeds on its merry way, it collects five buddies who compound the original issue. Don’t yell and carry on. Work with your people upfront to find and implement solutions.

When situations get sticky—and they will—look beyond the obvious. Maybe a person stepped over a boundary because of a concern you don’t know about. Drill down.

Help them meet their real need. Give more than you think is possible.

Play fair. But don’t play fair only with people you think deserve it. Play fair with everybody. Why? It’s the right thing to do.

REMEMBER ME

Chip says . . .

Good Guy

I

won’t be around forever. When Hill Yorkers look back and remember me, I hope they say, “Chip cared about me and was fair. Every so often he helped me out of a pinch and, in turn, allowed me to help others. He made me smile. He made me work hard, but I enjoyed what I did, and I got home safe every night. He didn’t create an enormous business. He did, though, create enormous relationships. Now that I think about it, that Chip Lafferty was a really, really good guy.”

333.

FORMULA FOR SUCCESS Chip says . . .

Got Your Back

M

y grandfather developed a formula for success. Then he passed it on to my dad who passed it on to me: Hill York will succeed if—and only if—the Lafferty family does NOT own one hundred percent of the business. Find great partners. Allow them to buy into the company. Give them a seat at the table. When partners share equity—no matter how small—they will treat Hill York like their very own business. Why? It IS their very own business.

Now it’s my turn to share the formula with my son, Bob. But there’s more I want to say. So, Bob, listen up . . .

I’m far from “out the door.” We’ll work together many more years. And, yes, some days we’ll go toe to toe and argue like dogs. But that’s life—fun, funny, hard. I want you to make your own mark and not do things my way. But I hope you’ll consider my advice, and if your brothers, Steel and Daniel, decide to join you at Hill York, you’ll share my thoughts with them.

334.

I worked hard to leave you a healthy company that gives you long-term ability to provide for your family and hundreds of other families. It won’t be easy. The odds are against you. For me, it’s fun to beat the odds. I hope you feel the same.

I hope you do two things: Have fun and make a profit. If you don’t do both, you won’t be successful. When people have fun, they want to come to work; they stick with you. When people stick with you, you make a profit.

Profit is not a dirty word. I take great pride in the fact that I have two hundred and fifty employees who have an average of four people to support. That means Hill York is directly responsible for the lifestyle of over one thousand people. Those people buy goods and services from, say, fifty thousand others. Never forget you’ll be responsible for an economic engine.

But don’t lose sleep over it. Put one foot in front of the other every day. And remember you won’t accomplish anything if you always roll in and out with the tide. Take a chance. Go for it. Be bold—even disruptive. If you don’t grow, you’ll go backwards.

If you don’t search for new methodologies, somebody will eat your lunch. And never, ever worry that I’ll judge you. I’ve got your back.

EIGHTH GENERATION Chip says . . .

Hopes

T

he technology world is changing so fast it makes your head spin. Even techies, like me, can’t predict what will happen in five years, let alone eighty years. But I can tell you one thing for certain—technology and Christian values will always walk hand in hand.

When I look down on Hill York eighty years from now I hope I see a business that still makes life more comfortable for its customers. I hope it’s smarter, faster, and better than any other in the air-conditioning world. I hope it’s number one in customer service, in all industries. I hope it makes a difference in the lives of Hill Yorkers.

I hope it stands out from the crowd by acting on its values of faith, family, work, in that order.

And I really, really hope it’s headed by an eighth generation of Laffertys.

336.

g

Love the Lord.

gg

If work isn’t fun, why bother?

gg

Can do.

gg

We’re big because we’re good.

g

Celebrations take work out of work. They’re memory makers.

g

Work smarter.

g

Every job is important.

g

When customers are happy, we’re happy.

g

NOTHING is impossible.

g

Dressing well isn’t about showing off. It’s about showing respect.

g

Cream rises to the top.

g

EVERYBODY has an opportunity for a great future—an opportunity to become an owner.

Believe in people.

340.

g

There’s no job, big or small, too hot for us to handle.

g

Our logo is sacred.

g

Camaraderie leads to good times.

g

Hill York’s employees aren’t employees. They’re Hill Yorkers for life.

g

Be the best you can be.

g

Paychecks are important, but they aren’t everything.

g

Celebrate.

g

Provide cradle-to-grave services.

g

Deliver on time.

g

Provide exact equipment.

g

Put your money where your mouth is.

g

Stay within budget.

g

Give your word and stick to it.

g

Build relationships.

Give back to your community.

341.

g

Persist.

g

Golf is a gentleman’s game.

g

Semper paratus—always prepared.

g

Create partners, not one-time customers.

g

THAT preaches!!!

g

Provide opportunities for personal and professional growth.

g

Team spirit.

g

Give others the benefit of the doubt.

g

Take care of each other through thick and thin.

g

Invest in people.

g

Practice American values.

g

Strive to be part of something larger than yourself.

g

Build a team; play on a team.

g

Exceed expectations.

Great accomplishments can start on brown bags and paper napkins.

342.

g

Create a work family.

g

Camaraderie leads to more good times than you can count.

g

HYStat will change our industry.

g

Develop knowledge.

g

The best defense is a good offense.

g

A ton is NOT a ton.

g

Set your selling price higher than your costs.

g

Communicate.

g

Good things happen to good people.

g

Touch lives.

g

Hill York will always be a family-owned company that practices Christian values.

g

Live on the up-and-up.

g

Develop a culture of loyalty—loyalty from the company to employees, loyalty from employees to the company.

g

Life is not about YOU. Safety is the right thing to do.

343.

g

There’s no I in team.

g

Stand out from the crowd.

g

Believe in people.

g

Everybody’s path is different.

g

Do whatever it takes.

g

Your word is as good as your signature.

g

THINK and LIVE safety.

g

A sale isn’t always about price.

g

God is very generous.

g

Go for it—be bold, brave, even disruptive.

g

Take a chance.

g

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.

g

Treat people well.

g

If you don’t grow, you’ll go backwards.

If you’re lucky enough to be a Hill Yorker, longevity is your middle name.

344.

g

Profit is NOT a dirty word.

g

If you don’t search for new methodologies, somebody will eat your lunch.

g

Satisfied customers are the recipe for success.

g

Laugh—a lot.

g

Find great partners, allow them to buy into the company, and give them a seat at the table.

g

Be proud, yet humble.

g

Don’t judge. Respect your differences and learn from them.

g

Refuse to roll in and out with the tide.

g

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

g

Do the right thing.

g

Lean on the Lord for support and guidance.

g

Empower your people.

g

Be the best in the industry, but when you have a win, give the glory to God.

g

Love each other. Respect each other.

Fuel an economic engine.

345.

g

Embrace change but stay true to tradition.

g

God is in charge.

g

Faith supports you through good times and hard times.

g

Listen.

g

No problem is too great or complex for Hill Yorkers.

g

Be part of the solution not the problem.

g

The CEO’s door is always open.

g

A company can’t survive without loyal, hard-working, honest people.

g

Be the best game in town.

g

Invest in people.

g

Trust in the Good Book.

g

Work with your people up front to find and implement solutions.

g

Stay on top of your game.

When situations get sticky—and they will—look beyond the obvious.

346.

g

Build depth and diversity.

g

Give more than you think is possible.

g

Play fair with everybody.

g

Pray.

g

“Executive” is just a title.

g

Hill York doesn’t sell air conditioning; it sells comfort.

g

Perform like a CHAMP.

g

Don’t allow anyone to treat you like garbage.

g

Know Christ and hold Him in your heart.

g

Be generous, kind, and share what you have—it’s the Christian way.

g

Share the word of the Lord.

g

Lead from the bottom up, not the top down.

g

Put faith and family before work.

Trust in the Lord, not the almighty dollar.

347.

Between the Lines “There’s no I in team.”

—Mark Kerney

J

ohn Foreman, thank you for your vision—your trust. Thank you for introducing me to the Lafferty family. Per Lafferty tradition, many, many special things start on the golf course.

Bob Number Two, you had me from hello. Thank you for your humor, your kindness, your generosity. Thank you for teaching me—your new best friend—about a REAL ton. Thank you for TRYING to teach me how to use a slide rule. I will always remember the many hours we spent telling stories and laughing around your kitchen table.

Joan, thank you for welcoming me into the Lafferty family and including me in meaningful family events. Thank you for your grace. Thank you for loving me.

Chip, thank you for your support. Thank you for caring. Thank you for making me smile. Thank you for including me in your enormous circle of special relationships. You are, indeed, your father’s son.

Kim and Amy, thank you for your enthusiasm and priceless family pictures. Thank you for participating in story hour and teaching me about “butt sweat” and how to nail “THAT preaches!”

Hill Yorkers for life, thank you for your rich stories—your time, candor, and enthusiasm—your laughter and your tears. As always, you did “whatever it takes.”

Because of you, The Hill York Story is an everlasting tribute to “making life more comfortable since 1936.”

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Cristina Crenshaw, thank you for setting up Google drive and providing links to priceless historic pictures and memorabilia.

Audrey Enciso, thank you for sharing your faith. Thank you for making it more than easy to coordinate multiple calendars.

Chris Hamilton, thank you for your real-time photographs.

Brian Haber, thank you for being our cheerful “delivery boy.”

Marion Johnson, you are a designer extraordinaire. Thank you for bringing The Hill York Story to life through compelling, caring design. Your creativity is unsurpassed. I appreciate our partnership to the moon and back.

Roger Johnson, thank you for your technical expertise and counsel.

Dee Moustakas, thank you for your eagle-eyed proofreading skills.

Chuck Schwabe, my best friend, husband, and business partner, thank you for your unconditional patience. Thank you for supporting my quest to be the best personal historian on the planet. You are my person.

I will always remember the day Bob handed me a Hill York T-shirt and said, “Here.

You are an adopted Hill Yorker for life.” I am blessed. My hope for the Lafferty family, Hill York, and Hill Yorkers is found in the Bible, Numbers 6: 24-26 “May the Lord bless you and keep you; May the Lord make His face shine on you and be gracious to you; May the Lord lift up his countenance on you and give you peace.”

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Credits Š 2017 Making Life More Comfortable Since 1936: The Hill York Story All rights reserved. No part of Making Life More Comfortable Since 1936: The Hill York Story may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without prior written permission of Robert S. Lafferty Junior or the Robert S. Lafferty Junior family.

Edited and produced by: Judith Kolva, Ph.D. Personal Historian Legacies In Ink, LLC www.LegaciesInk.com Judith@LegaciesInk.com 954.759.4531 Designed by: Marion Johnson The Memory Works, LLC www.memoryworkspublishing.com marion@memoryworkspublishing.com 928.284.0222 Making Life More Comfortable Since 1936: The Hill York Story content approved by the Robert S. Lafferty Junior family.

Hill York and Lafferty family photos courtesy of Hill York Air Conditioning Services and Energy Solutions and the Robert S. Lafferty Junior family.

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Page 4—Steamboat "W.C. Bradley" at a landing on the Apalachicola River - Apalachicola, Florida. Black & white photoprint, 8 x 9 in. State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory. <https://www.floridamemory.com/items/show/31936>, accessed 7 April 2017.

Page 6—View of cotton warehouses on Water Street - Apalachicola, Florida. 187-. Black & white photoprint, 8 x 10 in. State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory. <https://www.floridamemory.com/items/show/32277>, accessed 25 April 2017.

Page 7—Oyster shuckers at Apalachicola, Fla. Record group: Record Group 102: Records of the Children’s Bureau, 1908-2003 (National Archives Identifier: 431.)

Page 10—Stokes, Jim. A diorama exhibit at the John Gorrie Museum - Apalachicola, Florida.

1958. Black & white photoprint, 4 x 5 in. State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory. <https://www.floridamemory.com/items/show/75582>, accessed 25 April 2017.

Page 12—Holland, Karl E., 1919-1993. Model of first ice machine displayed at the John Gorrie Museum - Apalachicola, Florida. 1958. Black & white photoprint, 5 x 4 in. State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory. <https://www.floridamemory.com/items/show/75388>, accessed 25 April 2017.

Page 37—By Bob P. B. - 1942 Studebaker, CC BY 2.0, commons.wikimedia.org Page 50—File: John W. Young on the Moon.jpg/Created: 21 April 1972.

Page 126—Pelican. This image, which was originally posted to Flickr.com, was uploaded to Commons using Flickr upload bot on 14:27, 11 November 2010 (UTC) by Sreejithk2000 (talk). On that date, it was available under the license indicated.

Page 148—Newspaper boys cool off in a New York City park fountain, April 1916.

Photograph.http://natgeofound.tumblr.com/Photographes du National Geographic 25 June 2014. 15:0017.

Page 166—Biltmore Coral Gables, Biltmore Hotel, Coral Gables, Florida shot by me (Alex Feldstein) on July 1st, 2017 User: Alexf Page 168—English: Swimming Pool at the Biltmore Hotel at Coral Gables, Miami-Dade, FlDate: 21 January 2010, 05:32;06. Own work. Author: Jorge Royan/Attribution: © Jorge Royan / http://www.royan.com.ar / CC BY-SA 3.0.

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