And Ron had hired one of my art director partners there, Sheila Berrigan.
Ron called shortly thereafter and asked me stop by early one morning to chat.
We sat out on his balcony overlooking the interior of Butler Square. There were orange juice, coffee and fresh croissants from the French restaurant on the ground floor sitting on the coffee table, but I was too nervous and too much in awe of Ron to partake. I’d admired everything Bozell had done and he’d built the town’s most formidable creative department.
He sat down, putting a manilla file folder on the table, and we chatted. About advertising, about work we both admired, about what he was trying to do at Bozell. I asked if he wanted to see my book and reel. Ron opened the manilla folder and spread the contents across the table and said, “Is there anything in it that’s better than these?”.
I was stunned. It was all work I had done.
“Well,” I remember saying, “I have this one campaign we just finished.” and showed him that.
I remember him poring over it, then saying he liked it and then smiling, he said, “Come here and you’ll do more than one great campaign and do better ones, too.”
He had had his assistant, Diane Buttshaw, keep a file of every creative person whose work had impressed him. Not just Minneapolis creative people, but creative people from everywhere. Pretty much a file drawer or two, if I remember right.
Then came bragging on the people in the department and bragging on the work they did and bragging how great they were going to be and bragging how there were no prima donnas. Never once talking about his work or himself.
I went back to Campbell-Mithun and resigned.