Birthdays are important.
Birthdays are important. This past June, my wife and I celebrated the life of our one year old daughter, Hannah. We took the day off, and we three unplugged to be together just to be together. We praised God for her life, and it brought us joy to lavish our love upon her that day.
Today, Tegu marks the 6 year anniversary since its market debut in 2009. In the world of start-ups, age isn’t a positive. And actually, I’m convinced there’s an arbitrary 18 month “do or die” pressure coming out of Silicon Valley, and I hate it. It’s messed with me a lot during this journey, but that’s a post for later. While it would be impossible for me to convey anything near the fullness of our ride on this page, I couldn’t miss a chance to celebrate a bit.
Even longer than six years ago, my brother Chris and I laid forth the “why” for Tegu in this statement:
In response to God’s love for humanity, Tegu exists to bring hope, purpose and opportunity to the people of the Developing World through the creation of enduring commercial profit.
Tegu is a socially-motivated toy company with an office in Darien, Connecticut and a factory in Honduras. Today, our factory operates 20 hours a day across two full shifts employing 200 people. Six years ago this day we had just launched our product (thank you DailyCandy!). We had 12 people on payroll in Honduras and three folks (including myself) in the USA. It was and remains a humble operation. After we closed our first round of funding in the spring of 2009, my brother moved to Honduras (actually, we roadtripped in his 4Runner), and he’s been serving there ever since.
to Chris:
I am proud of you, bro. You saw a need and did something deeply intelligent about it. Thanks for how you love on people, using all your talents, and for being a pioneer — I respect you beyond words. You don’t get enough credit for all that you gave up, but today I honor you for stepping out in faith — faith in your gifts and this vision, but mostly, faith that God would see you through. And, boy, has He seen us through!
For kicks, I watched this video today just to re-live the memory of roadtripping three thousand miles in six days from Los Angeles to Tegucigpalpa with Chris. It’s a relic! My mom, wife and sisters thought we were crazy (read stupid) to drive into Mexico when the war on drugs had just broken out. But, we made it alive, and today the 4Runner proudly boasts Honduran plates that tell the story!
navigating obstacles.
Since then, the ride comes to me as almost a blur. But, it became clear to me six months into our adventure that my job was one of navigating obstacles. Everything we’d planned was off schedule. Everything seemed harder than it was supposed to be. Our investor presentation and written plan were so pretty, but this business was a hornet’s nest of problems, and I was fearing the worst. And, while people tell you this always happens with start-ups, I was pridefully unwilling to accept this token of compassionate wisdom (don’t put me in the losers’ box). Words from one of our earliest investors rang in my ears: “Businesses never fail. They just run out of money.” And he was dead right. If you can’t pay your bills, people don’t keep selling you things. If you can’t pay payroll, you have no team. If you have no team and no vendors, you won’t have customers. It all breaks down. You have to pay your bills.
On navigating obstacles, that was the trick; but, navigating obstacles wasn’t supposed to be our job. I was supposed to run the USA operation and manage our finances. My brother was supposed to setup and run a factory. I found myself instead fixing logistical headaches, randomly on various trips to force solutions here and there, and finally making blocks myself (thank you, Carlton Wilson and Craig Doescher) in a makeshift wood shop outside of Rochester, New York for our first Christmas rush. Six months in, I was ashamed of our progress and continued to fear the worst. Why would anyone continue to fund us if our progress was so limited?
But, the funding somehow continued, and the sales began to come. Since then, we’ve launched over fifty products in our magnetic wooden building system. Tegu Blocks have won numerous awards for good design in toys and beyond, and they’re now sold in thousands of locations throughout the world thanks to growth in our team and partners. Last year we secured a patent on our crazy challenging manufacturing process, and we’ve outgrown our original factory space in Honduras. I am proud — proud we have survived, proud that we are still paying our bills — and I know more than ever that what’s ahead will be the best yet.
to all who have journeyed with us:
I thank you — all of you. You know who you are. And I thank you for persisting when it hurt. Thank you for pressing in as the walls pressed in around you. Thank you to our 43 investors who said yes to this risk and had the courage to embrace it. Thank you to my team in the USA with a special gratitude for your loyalty, Nate Lau, Brandon Straub and Brett Gaudin. You are still here, and that says it all. Thank you to the nation and people of Honduras: you have welcomed our vision and helped us write it together.
Finally, I thank God. Cliche, but I really mean it. Thank you for beautifully orchestrating that which we cannot. Thank you for loving us through our brokenness and flaws. Thank you that we have, through you, the capacity to love beyond our nature. Thank you that there is no detail too small for your care. And mostly, thank you that you are always there and always will be. You have always been with me in Tegu, and you deserve all the credit.
We will fight the good fight, we will finish the race, we will keep the faith.
