Back in 1989, I was a one-person operation, buying consumer goods and shlepping them to companies like Fingerhut and Damark. Nisson Mandel was a commercial builder, a lone ranger, who was across the hall from me in an office complex. He was 71 years old when I met him, and he was the first guy to loan me money for my business. I had no cash. None. It was a real struggle, but Nisson believed in me.
Everything was about principle with Niss. He’d always tell me, ‘Your word is your bond.’ He taught me an awful lot about integrity, credibility, and reputation. Niss was a tough guy but had a huge, teddy-bear heart. If I got paid late by a company, he still expected me to pay him on time or he’d charge me heavy late fees. But he’d later figure out a way to get it back to me. I remember thinking how much I loved the guy. When my son and daughter were seven or eight, he’d call my kids at night and make ’em laugh like hell. At the office, he’d give them a quarter every time they called me Dad instead of Tom. It was all about respect. He was old-fashioned, which I kind of liked.
We had an interesting, colorful relationship. In order for me to get money from Niss, I had to go to lunch with him and play pulltabs at the Golden Valley House. He loved pulltabs. He’d buy ’em a hundred at a time. His favorite drink was a dry Rob Roy. I didn’t know what it was—all I know is I’d be bombed at lunch if I drank as much as he did. I’d put ice tea in the glass but he’d catch me.
Lunch was always fun, but some days, I’d say, ‘Niss, I’ve got a lot to do. I’m a one-man shop and I have to get back.’ When I got to be a three-person shop, I’d send Deanna, who still works for me, to the Golden Valley House to get the check. One day Niss told her, ‘Nothin’ doin’. Tell Tom if he doesn’t come to lunch, he doesn’t get the check.’ It was all about the relationship.
There were times when he was scary. He used to say, ‘If you’re going to pick an argument, make sure you can win it.’ Once he told me I owed him a little more interest on a deal. I said, ‘No, I don’t.’ He said, ‘Yes, you do.’ And the discussion became an argument. He had made a ton of money on the deal, and I knew I didn’t owe him anything more. I said, ‘You know, that’s just greedy.’ He said, ‘Pay me or we’ll go to court.’ I said, ‘Fine.’ I walked out of his office scared to death, wondering where I was going to get new financing.
We ended up going to court across the street at Ridgedale. I won. He lost. We walked outside and he said, ‘Where do you wanna go to lunch?’ We went to lunch, and he said, ‘I just wanted to see if you had it in you for the fight.’
