Читать книгу Designing a World-Class Architecture Firm - Patrick MacLeamy - Страница 47

Hellmuth also had a more down-home way of thanking the staff. Every summer, he invited us to his farm in the Ozark Mountains of southern Missouri for a weekend of fun. The land was not suitable for traditional farming as the soil is thin and rocky with many caves, springs, and streams. Hellmuth's farm was called “The Sinks” for the stream that ran alongside the farmhouse before “sinking” directly into a hill nearby, forming a cave.

When I arrived in my VW Beetle on a typically hot, muggy Missouri summer day, HOK men were everywhere. Yes, it was mostly men then. In fact, Hellmuth called us “my boys.” Employees were sitting in the shade, lounging on the grass or swimming in the stream. Several had climbed on a ledge and were cannonballing into the stream, spraying everyone nearby with cool Ozark water. Good, clean fun was the order of the day.

When evening came, a station wagon pulled up and the tailgate opened to reveal every type of soft drink, beer, “adult beverage,” and mixer imaginable. Everyone had a drink or two and told HOK stories. Dinner was simple: steak and salad. One group made salads, but Hellmuth grilled all the steaks himself. He said, “A steak isn't good enough for my boys if it doesn't hang off both sides of the plate,” so these were enormous slabs of beef! Everyone lined up to get a plate, loaded up some salad, then stopped at the grill to get a steak from Hellmuth.

When it was my turn, he looked me in the eye and said, “Thank you, Patrick,” and he meant it sincerely. This was another way Hellmuth personally acknowledged each person's hard work. Everyone sat at picnic tables, or on rocks, or at big tables indoors. It was a great time, with lots of laughter. When it came time to sleep, everyone found a flat spot, took out a sleeping bag or an air mattress, and slept right where they were.

On Sunday morning, Hellmuth rang an old-fashioned school bell to get everyone moving. He organized groups to go to church, having mapped out directions to a church for every denomination. “It's okay to have a good time Saturday night, but by damn you're going to go to church on Sunday,” he insisted. Hellmuth established a wholesome code of conduct by his example. In fact, when an opportunity came to design the St. Louis Playboy Club, he turned it down. It didn't fit in with HOK culture.

These weekends—Hellmuth opening his home and inviting everyone in for a feast— were one more embodiment of HOK culture. The time spent swimming, horsing around, eating, and laughing helped everyone feel like family. He gave us a place to bond. Actually, he gave us two.

HOK's annual party was held in Hellmuth's backyard in St. Louis, where he also welcomed our spouses and friends. His mother lived next door and the two backyards were connected, so he used both for the party. A committee decorated the yard, and arranged live music, so it was a noisy event. People gave little speeches, and someone was usually pushed into the pool. Every year one of the neighbors would complain about the noise and end up calling the police, but Hellmuth always invited the officers in and gave them dessert. The police would warn the crowd to hold the noise level down, then depart.

These occasions were very personal and permeated with the wholesomeness of the Midwest. After only a short time at the firm, I felt like part of something larger—a team and a family. One of the biggest challenges HOK would face in the future was how to maintain that family culture when the firm was spread all over the country—and then the world.

One of the biggest challenges HOK would face in the future was how to maintain that family culture when the firm was spread all over …