On Tuesday, Pete Dozzi passed away. His death is the latest of the giants of the Renaissance II era in the construction industry. Over the past two years Ish McLaughlin, Don Mosites and Joe Massaro, among others, have also passed on. That’s a lot of pure story-telling gone and some business wisdom too.
Pete’s story is one that wouldn’t happen today. He founded Jendoco at age 27, after the owner of Branna Construction wavered on promises of selling the company to Pete (his description of the events was more colorful). Prior to that confrontation, Branna’s owner had relied on Pete, going so far as to ship him drawings at the military base in Texas where Pete was stationed so that he could bid projects for Branna. It’s inconceivable that an owner would trust a kid just out of civil engineering school with managing a bid today, even if the estimator was in the office next door.
I had the chance to get to know Pete only in the last ten years. The man had a lot of stories but a few things really stood out to me. He was unbelievably generous and passed that down to his kids and his company. The people who worked for Jendoco stayed. Laborers and executives (including presidents of the company) commonly worked their whole careers at Jendoco. Pete laughed a lot. I’m sure he had a lot of money but he seemed to really appreciate small gestures.
I did business with Jendoco when I owned the Pittsburgh Construction News but we started just as Pete was transitioning into retirement. Jendoco called out of the blue one day to ask how much it would cost to subscribe for one month. We didn’t have one month pricing but came up with something. I remember grousing about it at the time, thinking how cheap Jendoco must be that they couldn’t come up with $200 to try it for 90 days like others had. It was years later that I found out the opposite was true. One of Pete’s long-time friends, Dwight Kuhn, told me that Pete expected Jendoco’s vendors to make money so rather than ask for a month free – like almost everyone else did – Jendoco expected to pay us while they decided whether to use us. Jendoco subscribed after that month and never left us. That was a humbling story to hear some ten years later.
Another delightfully humbling moment with Pete came at a lunch we shared a few years ago. He had invited me to meet with him and his son Dom to discuss an idea for an article Pete thought I should write. I am capable of rattling on and enjoying the sound of my own voice a bit. Rather than interrupt or offend me, Pete waited until I took a breath and said, “I apologize. I haven’t been letting you eat your lunch.” Those are some people skills.