My father, Bob Hammer, was a man defined by integrity, discipline, and relentless determination. His career began in the 1950s at Colgate-Palmolive, where he learned the fundamentals of sales and professionalism that would shape the rest of his life.
By the early 1960s, he’d become a regional sales manager for Carter’s Ink Company, and not long after, his big break arrived: National Sales Manager for Speedry Chemicals, the company behind the iconic Magic Marker Studio line.
Each Monday morning, our family would drive him to the airport, and every Friday evening, we’d pick him up. I remember watching him prepare for his trips — calling the airline, getting his confirmation number, and handwriting his own ticket. Today, that memory feels like a window into a different era of business — one built on personal connections and trust.
The 1960s were a boom time for Magic Marker. The company grew rapidly, adding layers of management and undergoing acquisitions. But during the recession of 1969, my father was let go in a corporate reorganization. After nine long months of unemployment, he decided to take control of his future.
That’s when he became an independent sales representative — the start of what would eventually become our family business. With no safety net, he relied on grit, honesty, and hard work to build something from nothing.
I was the middle son — fascinated by business from an early age. We shared our early wins together, including our first $100 commission day, tallying invoices right on the sidewalk in front of Arthur Brown. Those moments are etched into my memory as the foundation of everything that came next.
The early years weren’t easy. My first “job” was shining shoes at a local barbershop on slow Saturday mornings. When business lagged, I started taking my shoeshine box to nearby retail stores. That’s where I truly learned how to sell. My hands were blackened with polish, but I was earning $100 a day — a small fortune in the 1970s.
Some fathers play ball with their sons.
Bob Hammer played business with me.
And because of him, I’ve never truly worked a day in my life — I’ve just been playing ever since.
This dedication is for my father — a man whose legacy wasn’t built on wealth or titles, but on honesty, family, and the belief that hard work could shape a better life.
By Michael Hammer
