Tough Work, Worthy Goals
I rode the boat from the Vineyard to Woods Hole a few days back to see the energy efficiency work we’re doing to Katharine and George Woodwell’s house. George is the founder of the Woods Hole Research Center, where we are currently in the middle of construction of a major Deep Energy Retrofit of a large 1905 carriage house 
recently acquired by the center (the completed building will become office and meeting space for their expanding staff; they’re in the climate change business, so theirs is booming!).
It was the first time I had been to George and Katherine’s house. I got off the boat, walked up the road, and turned right on Church Street. As I walked I gawked at the sprawling old-world summer mansions on the right side (the water side) of Church. Woodwell’s is on the left, and is smaller and more subdued, except for the giveaway large solar thermal system on an outbuilding to the left. 
Built by George 26 years ago, it has provided half the home’s heat and hot water ever since. But the house is a big old leaky rambler needing many fixes. We’re doing some of them now, as partial steps toward George and Katherine’s eventual goal: eliminating the use of fossil fuels altogether.
Several of our carpenters were working there. Just as I turned into the driveway our foreman, Pete D’Angelo, was ripping a 2×4 on a table saw and the grain was running all ragged so it bound up and kicked back on him. He turned to one of the carpenters, Curtis, who was right next to him, and said, “What else could possibly happen to screw me up today?”
At that moment he turned and saw me walking up the driveway, threw his hands skyward, and said, “Oh no – not him!”
I checked out the job. Tough work. Tearing stuff apart, re-working, insulating, and airsealing in a messy old attic with cast iron pipes and BX cable running everywhere.
As we looked at the work Peter (who is also one of my co-owners) revealed to me that I was the least of his problems on this particular day, unlike on so many other days.
I was glad to hear that but troubled to see how hard this important work is.
Unlike the Carriage House, the Woodwell project does not qualify as a true Deep Energy Retrofit as we’re only doing a part of what needs to be done – picking the low hanging fruit. Hopefully, over time, we’ll be able to do the rest.
On the Vineyard we have another complete Deep Energy Retrofit in progress, for Bill Lake and Morgan Hodgson in Aquinnah. Bill and Morgan bought a typical patched-together summer camp from the 50’s on a beautiful site overlooking Lobsterville. The realtors were selling it as a tear-down (obviously nobody would want that worn out hunk of junk) but Bill and Morgan were interested in saving it and fixing it. It had charm, character, and some good parts – why cart it all away to the dump?
We helped them figure out how to make sense of it. This is a gut re-hab, which makes it easier. When it’s done, it will still be a charming old camp but with more light and space and new aesthetics. And it will perform, in terms of energy use, comfort, and durability, nearly as well as the high-performance new buildings we are making these days. In my last post I said “On the Vineyard we have approximately 18,000 existing buildings. Each will – at some point – need to be brought into the 21st century, or just thrown away.”
One down, 17,999 to go.
The Lake/Hodgson House and the Woods Hole Research Center Carriage House will be, when completed, the first true Deep Energy Retrofits our company has produced. Sometime in the future, when we have monitored and measured, I will quantify what this means, discuss the components, tell of the successes and failures, and try to explain what it takes to do these (aside from committed clients, which is the most essential requirement).
Meanwhile, on March 6th we are hosting an open house at Lake/Hodgson’s, mid-construction, with bones exposed, so people can see what goes into such a project and how it’s done. We will examine the troubles and the triumphs midstream. If you’re around, join us.
I’ll be there – if the carpenters don’t kick me out first!
SHOP CLASS & DEEP ENERGY
In 1980, when Hurricane Bob ripped through Martha’s Vineyard, it tore down a big hickory tree alongside Humphrey’s Bakery in West Tisbury. We took the butt log, hauled it to our yard, and milled it into planks. Until a few months ago they sat on stickers somewhere deep in our wood storage building waiting for my son Pinto to make a rocking chair for me and my wife Chris.
No more. He just finished the rocker. I’d show a picture but I don’t have one yet that does it justice 
(I do have a picture of a prototype reclaimed wood SMC floor lamp he made; here it is).
Pinto’s a superb woodworker (and one of my fellow owners at South Mountain), a sublime musician, a great Dad, and many other things that make me proud. (No bias here, of course). The rocker is so artfully crafted that to look at it takes your breath away and to sit in it makes you sink into reverie and wonder who will be sitting in that chair in 200 years.
Pinto grew up watching and helping my colleagues and me build. He wandered around the shop. He made stuff all the time. I didn’t grow up with that. But I did have shop class in seventh grade with Mr. Eddy. I built a slalom water ski out of mahogany. To bend the tip I had to slice it with a bandsaw, glue in lots of small pieces and bend it on a form. I wasn’t that good with a bandsaw, so if you look at the edge of the ski in the picture below (I still have it today; it’s gathering dust in the rafters of our shop) you’ll see that the laminations wander.
Can you tell?
The laminations may wander, but the ski is true and the experience of shop class was so memorable that I remember it clearly almost 50 years later. The thought of that shop class – which is a dying part of our educational system – leads me to the juxtaposition of craftsmanship, factory-produced housing, and the work ahead.
In a 2006 essay called “Shop Class as Soulcraft,” (which has become a book of the same name that I haven’t read – the subtitle is “An Inquiry into the Value of Work”) the author, Matthew Crawford, makes a case for the importance of manual work and craftsmanship:
“Skilled manual labor entails a systematic encounter with the material world, precisely the kind of encounter that gives rise to natural science. From its earliest practice, craft knowledge has entailed knowledge of the “ways” of one’s materials – that is, knowledge of their nature, acquired through disciplined perception and a systematic approach to problems.”
Eliminating shop class assumes that it is a good idea to herd everyone into college and get them busy in front of a screen as soon as possible. It assumes that there is little to be learned from manual labor and little value to society. But who’s to say that the “jobs of the future” in a “post-industrial” economy are more fulfilling or more valuable?
Meanwhile, Inga Saffron wrote an article in the Philadelphia Inquirer in January called “City’s Green Groundbreakers” about the Philadelphia Four, a group of rising design firms that see architecture “as a weapon in the battle to stave off environmental ruin.”
The four are convinced that conventional building methods are as obsolete as “hunting and gathering.” Building takes too long, wastes too much, and costs too much. “Rather than attempting to make our system greener, these architects are bent on overthrowing it,” says Saffron.
It’s all about digitizing what we build, electronically sending models to factories, building under controlled conditions, and snapping together components on a site.
Doesn’t sound so new, does it? It’s the old modernist call to arms, which has been going on for a century, and still nobody’s figured out a way to do it better than the Sears Roebucks kit homes of the early 1900’s, which combined craftsmanship with factory production and automation.
(Between 1908 and 1940, Sears customers ordered about 75,000 houses from the Sears Roebuck mail-order catalogs. The houses were shipped by rail all over the country. Each kit home contained 30,000 pieces, including 750 pounds of nails and 27 gallons of paint and varnish. A 75-page instruction book showed homebuyers, step by step, how to assemble the pieces. Many of those houses still exist.)
Stephen Kieran and James Timberlake, the elders of the Philadelphia Four, wrote a manifesto called Refabricating Architecture in 2003 that says that buildings should be produced like airplanes and cars.
I’m not convinced. A large part of the process of building has already found its way to the factory – building is more a process of assembling manufactured parts than ever before. Maybe most of what can successfully be produced in factories already is.
This is especially true of the big work ahead in the building realm, which (in the times of diminishing resources and declining population to come) will be about fixing the buildings we’ve got in transformative ways. Deep Energy Retrofits for profound energy use reduction, increased comfort, and greater durability.
Here on Martha’s Vineyard there are 18,000 existing buildings. Each will – at some point – need to be brought into the 21st century, or just thrown away. This is true of the entire developed world (in the developing world the story may be different).
This work is not going to happen in a factory. It is going to happen with teams of well-trained designers, engineers, technicians, analysts, craftspeople, tradespeople, and laborers.” The digital information will flow from studio to site rather than from office to factory. Much of the digital information will be collected at the site, in the same way that a craftsperson collects information “through disciplined perception and a systematic approach to problems.”
Craftsmanship is the practice of staying with a pursuit for a long time and boring deeply into it to get it right. That’s not something we want to disappear; it’s something we want to encourage. We’re trying to learn to do Deep Energy Retrofits this way. Let’s bring back Shop Class, get the kids away from the screens for a bit, and let them make their own wandering saw cuts which will, in due time, straighten out. Mine did. Sort of.
WINDTRIGUE ON THE VINEYARD
While the eyes of the world focus on Copenhagen, here at home on Martha’s Vineyard wind energy has been receiving a mighty dose of attention – more than ever before. Are we making progress? Maybe some. You be the judge.
Wind has been in the local news in four distinctly different regards at once: the release and reaction to the draft Massachusetts Oceans Management Plan, the public coming-out of a new organization called Vineyard Power, the continuing saga of Cape Wind, and the adoption of a new wind by-law in Aquinnah.
Before diving in, some context might be useful.
According to Lester Brown, the president of Earth Policy Institute and the author of Plan B 4.0, 
the National Renewable Energy Lab (NREL) has identified 1000 gigawatts of potential offshore wind energy on the U.S. East Coast. That’s an extraordinary number. A gigawatt is 1000 megawatts. The size of the proposed Cape Wind project is 420 Megawatts. That means NREL has identified the potential for 2500 Cape Winds on the East Coast. That’s right – two thousand five hundred. Coupled with similar West Coast potential, there is offshore capacity sufficient to power the entire U.S. economy.
How much offshore capacity does the U.S have at present?
None.
Not so in Europe and Asia. Wind energy is growing, worldwide, at a furious rate. Last month, according to “Progressive Investor” , “Spain supplied 53% of its electricity from wind” with more than 10 GW (24 Cape Winds) installed. They are expecting another 5.3 GW (12 more Cape Winds) online by 2012. That’s just Spain, with a coastline roughly one quarter of the length of the U.S. coastline. Will we even have our modest first effort – Cape Wind – installed by 2012??
The U.S. is now a full decade behind the rest of the developed world in the transition to renewable energy and the battle to tame climate change. We’re discovering the shame of following for the first time ever. As David Orr says in his new book Down to the Wire “The global crisis ahead is a direct result of the largest political failure in history.” We have been at the forefront of that failure.
Here in Massachusetts, however, the political commitment to change is strong. The Deval Patrick administration has been stellar, demonstrating serious leadership and investing heavily in diverse renewable energy initiatives.
Several months ago the Patrick administration released their draft Oceans Management Plan for Massachusetts waters. Although pleased by this pro-active planning, I was disappointed to see that the competing matrix of uses left very little area available for offshore wind development. The only areas identified as suitable are near the Vineyard and the adjacent island of Cuttyhunk. I assume there must be others.
But that was not the primary concern for most Vineyarders. The designation of our waters drew a swift and negative reaction from local community and political leaders, and a demand for local control. Some accommodation has been reached, but at this point, it seems that the state government’s resolve remains firm. They may add to the area (that’s good!) and they may award a stronger voice and greater community benefits to the Vineyard (that’s good!) but they will not let NIMBYism rule the day (that’s good too!).
A group called Let Vineyarders Decide formed to demand alterations to the state plan. Meanwhile, the real good news is that during the last two years a new organization called Vineyard Power 
has been in the design and formative stages and has now completed a business plan and formal incorporation. This is a citizen-owned cooperative that will “secure our energy future and keep control in our community.” Electricity will be generated from offshore wind turbines and distributed to co-op members through the existing grid. Go here to join now.
This exciting development is the perfect Let Vineyarders Decide vehicle. We’ll own it and we will make the decisions. Where will the turbines be? We will decide. Fortunately, one of the Let Vineyarders Decide organizers also serves on the Vineyard Power advisory board. This promotes important dialogue.
When it comes to wind turbines, location always seems to be the rub. The current debate, it seems to me, is missing the point. Sometimes, when we’re busy formulating an answer, we fail to identify the right question. For years people have been debating the location of Cape Wind – is this the right place for it or should it be at Otis Air Force base, or someplace else? Now we’ve got the same thing going on with the Oceans’ Management Plan. Right place or wrong place?
Wrong question, it seems to me. We need as many locations as possible, as much investment as possible, as much political support as possible, as much local support as possible, and as many local community benefits as possible. We need, finally, to end spurious arguments about birds and fish and instead do the best possible job of mitigating environmental harm that we can. We need to learn from the rest of the world, which has addressed the issues thoroughly; we are not the first people ever to contend with this. The town of Aquinnah missed that boat; they created an impossibly long, confusing, obstacle-filled wind by-law, which may effectively outlaw wind energy in that town. I hope not. Read it here, if you can.
We need to stop running around in circles, get off the dime, and move forward.I think we will. Initial perceptions can change dramatically, as they have in so many places.
Years ago, after the first large wind turbine in Massachusetts was installed in the town of Hull, 
I drove along Nantasket Beach and through town with my daughter and a friend. Suddenly the immense wind machine, owned by the local municipal utility, came into view. My daughter Sophie gasped: “It’s huge. Scary.” We parked in the parking lot just steps from the machine and walked to it. The tower is 165’ high and the blades extend 75’ above that. It is almost noiseless – it makes a gentle whooshing sound. As we walked away we turned and stared back at it. Sophie said, “It’s quite beautiful, isn’t it? Especially because of what it does.”
That’s my girl. Perceptions can change in a heartbeat.
The Hull machine, right on the beach, adjacent to the high school and a residential neighborhood, and in plain view of downtown Boston, was so successful that the town wanted to do another – three times the size. They polled the residents who live in the shadow of the beast. Of the five hundred respondents, 480 supported more turbines. That’s 96 percent. You tell me: when are 96% of people positive about anything?
This degree of support is a common reaction, world wide, in areas that are making the commitment to large-scale wind energy. Not before development, when many are scared, but after development, when consciousness seems to shift.
Remarkably, the citizens of our small sister island Cuttyhunk, whose waters the draft Oceans Management Plan also designated for wind development, are pre-development supporters. Yes, in my backyard, the citizens say! 
They are attracted to the economic benefits, but they also say that they would favor wind development even if there were no potential financial benefits, because “we all have to do our part”. Because if they’re not in our backyard they’re in someone else’s. I expect this attitude to become pervasive in the years to come – a collective un-tethering from the urge to reactively say no to change.
Because as some do battle with large-scale turbine development, many others are battling, as author Bill McKibben says, “to see them not as industrial eyesores, but as part of a new aesthetic. The wind made visible. The slow, steady turning that blows us into a future less hopeless than the future we’re steaming toward now.”
I’m glad for all the discussion, for the intensity of feeling, and for the widespread community involvement. While I may not agree with all that’s being said, it’s essential that everyone is heard. I hope that ultimately we’ll realize that we, as stewards of an area with an inexhaustible resource, have an obligation to find comfort with its use.
Living Local & The Next Generation
The third annual Martha’s Vineyard Living Local and Harvest Festival just ended. It began with a Friday night forum called Opportunities and Challenges – a Panel Discussion with Next Generation Island Leaders.
It was about youth. 
Having just turned 60, I am acutely aware of the role of young people (in their 20’s and 30’s) in my work life and civic life. At work they are a constant theme and a growing force. There is a great transition in process at South Mountain Company – from first generation leadership to the next. It’s a long, gradual journey, sometimes a bit frightening but mostly thrilling, and it’s gathering steam.
In Vineyard politics and civic affairs the young are quieter. Those of us in our fifties and sixties have been active, but we’re graying. Sometimes, in the rooms where policies are being shaped that will shape our future, there’s very little representation from the next generation. What does that mean? I know they’re here – it’s not like some places where the young have jumped ship – and I know they’re active and vital, but where are they? What are they doing? What are they thinking?
The forum was an attempt to find out by putting four of them up on the stage in a public setting and asking the following questions:
• How could your age group be more engaged in next generation leadership and governance of the Island?
• In considering our Island’s future, what do you care about the most that’s not being done now, or could be done better?
• What’s your one or two sentence dream for the island in 25 years?
And one other, a beauty that came from one of the panelists, Jeanette Vanderhoop, a member of the Wampanoag Tribe of Aquinnah:
• How do we keep the young and idealistic still idealistic when they’re no longer young?
And, of course, how do we keep them here? My friend Tom Chase, who grew up here, says that his father once told him that the Vineyard has two exports: fish and brains. As he tells it, his dad told him that just after Tom told him he’d decided to stay on the Vineyard (hmmm). Re-localization is about keeping our fish AND our brains right here where we’ve raised them. And doing more to do what we can within our local economy.
It was a lively evening. Besides the diverse panelists, we had two born-and-raised “elder” questioners and an engaged audience. I was the moderator. The panel consisted of a farmer, a boatbuilder, a Wampanoag environmentalist, and a mother of two with many civic responsibilities. Three of them were born and raised here; the fourth summered here and then married into an old island family. They all seemed a bit nervous, but they spoke beautifully, from the heart.
Each of the four individuals is so different that I hesitate to lump them together, but themes developed quickly: the appreciation each has for their many mentors and the community that has nurtured them; their love for the island and the delicate mix of their attachment to the “way it was” and their pragmatic sense that change must come; their understanding that sufficient affordable housing, meaningful work, and limits to growth are all keys to the future; their shared certainty that the time has come for them to take the ball and run with it.
It became a celebration of a way of life that they want to preserve, renew, and re-make. But not only a celebration. They also stirred the pot, and were clear that when we talk about the wonders of this place we also have to talk about the painful parts – the homelessness, the alcoholism, the fractiousness. Jeanette said “I always read the court report in the paper to remind me.” And they subscribed to the belief that you “can’t complain unless you’re willing to change it.”
The most poignant moment for me was when one of the panelists, Myles Thurlow, who described himself as “more interested in boats than school” when he was growing up, fielded a question. The question, from an audience member, was “How do you feel about Wind?”
Big question. There’s no hotter topic on the Vineyard right now. I will say more in a future post about this, but this piece isn’t about the topic, or the content of the response (although I will mention that all basically responded that “we gotta get real; this is an important, necessary, and desirable part of our future”).
It’s about what happened when Myles answered. As I listened to him, speaking off the cuff, I heard a compelling, coherent, elegantly worded statement. And I saw something in his face. It appeared to me that he was saying to himself “I said that? Wow.” And I sensed that he was feeling the stirring empowerment that comes from expressing yourself well, in public, about a controversial topic that you feel deeply about.
I was glad for him, and glad for us. In these perilous times, when these young men and women will be facing and contending with global climate destabilization and its monumental effects, they gave us Hope.
Thank you Chris Fischer, and Katie Carroll, and Myles Thurlow, and Jeanette Vanderhoop. We’ll have to do this again. You guys want to organize the next one? I’ll be glad to help.
All Is Forgiven
I managed to get through the Martha’s Vineyard summer attending only one fundraiser. That’s a record. And, for the first time in at least a decade, I did no fundraising for the causes I care about. I must admit it felt good. Fundraising is hard.
The single event I went to – for our Massachusetts governor Deval Patrick – was a good one,. It happened to be scheduled for the day after we found out Ted Kennedy died. Deval spoke about Kennedy. He said, “ I knew him before I ever met him because my mother used to say, to no one in particular” (and here he slipped into a drawl), “I just love me some Kennedy.”
An extraordinary number of people “loved some Kennedy.” His passion for life was unique, complete, and inclusive, but his commitment and dogged perseverance did not seem to overwhelm his humility or make him take himself too seriously. I liked what his son Teddy said, “He used to say that it didn’t bother him that he wasn’t president; it just bothered him that someone else was.”
I’ve always been a big admirer, but Kennedy disappointed me the last few years by opposing Cape Wind. The stories, these past few days, about his deep and enduring connection to Nantucket Sound, have brought me greater understanding. I no longer feel that his opposition was hypocritical; rather, I think it came from his fear that something inside him would be injured and his inability to overcome that fear. His capacity to overcome fear and adversity was mighty, but we all have our limits. Even Ted Kennedy.
All is forgiven.
Early Morning Meeting
My wife and daughter and I recently had the great good fortune to attend an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. The occasion was the one-year sobriety celebration of a close friend. We were invited to witness her achievement. This wasn’t just a celebration; it was a regular AA meeting. There were 35 people there, many of whom we knew (this is a very small place) and all of them no longer anonymous to us (as a friend says, in a small community like this there is no AA, just A). How brave, and generous, for them to welcome us and allow us to share their meeting.
I’ve always wanted to witness first hand the workings and organizational structure of this remarkably effective and superbly networked (without – even – the need of the internet!) institution. The amazing part – it has no leaders!
In the early 1930’s, when a Vermonter named Rowland visited the Swiss psychoanalyst Carl Jung for help with his alcoholism, a sequence of events began which led to the beginnings of Alcoholics Anonymous. Today, millions of people attend AA meetings at over 100,000 locations in communities across America and around the world. It cuts across all lines: age, class, race, and gender. Everyone is welcome.
AA encourages each participant to heal themselves by staying sober one day at a time and by receiving the support of others who are engaged in the same difficult effort. Rather than leaders, it relies on the inner resources and strengths of a cooperative group. The only requirement for admission is a desire to stop drinking.
But who organizes? Who manages disruptive personalities? Who’s in charge?
Nobody.
There are administrative roles, but they come with no power. The group holds the power. Individual attendance implies acceptance of the “12 traditions” which comprise the strong but flexible underlying organizational structure. And that’s it. There are no rules, just this set of shared understandings that create and support an atmosphere of extraordinary healing.
It’s astonishing that it works and I know there must be important organizational lessons embedded in the AA success story. I would be curious to hear from those who have had longtime association with the process. How has it changed the way you work and do business? What has it taught you about the importance of community? How has it helped you to manage relationships in your life?
Not all organizations can be leaderless, and it is not necessarily an achievable goal (there is an important place for leadership), but perhaps there is value in thinking about how to be“leader-LESS” – that is, to bring greater democratization to all those organizations – work, home, social – that are part of the fabric of our lives.
Sharing cake and stories at 7 AM, I felt swept into a powerful community of shared interest, support, and caring. For a few moments at that early-morning before-work Vineyard meeting, we were permitted to join forces with the others and participate in their remarkable healing journey. Their pain, laughter, honesty, and ability to share remain with me. I can’t remember many names or faces, but I remember, viscerally, the experience of intense humanity embodied in that room.
When the meeting was over we walked out carrying whatever troubles we brought when we entered. But we were wiser. The others in that meeting walked out to face a day of struggle to stay sober. As one person said, “Have a nice day, unless, of course, you’ve made other plans.” And another: “The world’s record for sobriety is 24 hours.”
One day at a time. Under the guidance of the serenity prayer, which begins by asking a higher power – whatever yours might be – to “grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.” Could there be a better lesson for everyday life, for all aspects of life, than that?
I’m grateful to our friend for exposing us to the heart and soul of such a remarkable healing organization.
Sharing Ownership of the Future
One more post (which might become two) about employee ownership and workplace democracy before I veer off toward some related topics. . . .
Despite the Obama administration’s recent shift in emphasis from homeownership to rental housing (which I will discuss in detail in a future post), homeownership is at the very heart of the American dream. Owning our work, and finding meaning there, seems as essential to a good life as owning our homes. But although many of us own homes, far fewer own our work.
But the idea that the people who use our productive assets should own them is as old as America. As John Logue of the Ohio Employee Ownership Center says in The Real World of Employee Ownership, “Thomas Jefferson argued passionately that what set this country apart from the Old World and made it so suitable for democracy was the fact that the ownership of productive property was widely dispersed: farmers owned their land in the countryside; artisans owned their tools and shopkeepers their shops in the towns.”
Employee ownership is emerging from beneath the radar. There is an awakening interest in the potential of broadly shared ownership of enterprise. The idea is beginning to surface all over the world in companies small and large. Today over 11,000 companies nationally, with over 13 million employees, have some form of employee ownership. In fact, today more Americans work in firms partly or wholly owned by employees than are members of unions in the private sector. Most of these do not share the SMC co-op model, and many can hardly be characterized as democratic, but all indicate that we may be learning something as we try to assemble the components of a restorative future.
The context is important. My fellow baby boomers own several million businesses, and during the next two decades, most of these founders will exit. The businesses will either be shut down, or sold to outsiders, or passed on. Selling to employees is an option that deserves to be more widely understood, for it offers powerful benefits to all parties. There is a need for more information as employee ownership becomes an important entity of choice, not only for aging boomers but for the millions of young people intent on finding real meaning in their work. Employee ownership is one way to open that door. There is new knowledge and there are new practices that make employee ownership more widely applicable, and growing interest among these business owners.
Tom Greer is one of them.
Many people pass through Martha’s Vineyard (how’s that for understatement?). Some of them want to visit our facility, or see some of our work, or talk business. 
Each of these visits takes time, so we have to be careful. It’s a delicate balance because, mostly, these are well-meaning people with good stories and legitimate interest. How can you possibly turn them away, how can you possibly not generously accept? Maybe someday we’ll have designated visiting days, but for now we field the e-mails and calls and decide whether time will allow and the inquiry is serious enough to warrant the time.
Tom Greer, a builder from Charlottesville, Virginia, was on the island. He asked to visit, and and wanted to ask a few questions. Turns out his successful, stable business 31 years old, has 25 employees and annual revenues of $8 million (about our size). A decade ago he took two longtime colleagues in a partners; each owns 20% and Tom owns 60%.
He is interested in examining the possibility of becoming a co-op. I asked him why, given the success story, he is interested in rocking this stable boat by considering a shift to co-operative ownership. He responded, “As I have grown up with my people, I have wondered what it is like for them to give their working life to a company, and then upon retirement walk away from their life’s work with only Social Security. I have benefited greatly from their sweat, loved every minute of my ownership, and think that with the co-op concept I can help paint a better picture.” As he digs deeper he’s beginning to understand the challenges. Whether they ultimately make the shift or not, Tom Greer is the kind of person who will change the way we do business.
He knows that it’s about sharing ownership of the future.
Rosenbaum on Deep Energy
This is a post about a local event, so it may not mean much to those of you far away.
When it comes to houses, there’s plenty of talk these days about Zero Energy, Passive Houses, and even strange new terms like Deep Energy Retrofit.
It’s not just talk. For old friend Marc Rosenbaum, of Energysmiths, it’s practice. And it’s passion, too. Marc has been working closely with us for the past 20 years.
Marc’s projects include three of the American Institute of Architects Top Ten Green Projects.. An experienced and enthusiastic teacher and speaker, he has trained thousands of professionals., including several trainings of Vineyard architects and builders.
Come to the Chilmark Community Center and hear where we’re headed with housing and how we might get there. It’s free.
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JOHN ABRAMS is co-founder and CEO
of South Mountain Company and the author
of COMPANIES WE KEEP read more
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COMPANIES WE KEEP is published by Chelsea Green Publishing
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