Architecture has at times suffered from a cult of personality, where so-called “black cape” architects demanded total obedience from their apprentices. HOK was different.
The founders also demonstrated mutual respect by using first names around the office. People called Kassabaum “George K.” and Hellmuth “George H.” Later, people started calling George H. “Papa George,” when his son—also an architect and named George Hellmuth—came to work at HOK. I called Gyo Obata “Mr. Obata” during my interview, but he soon corrected me, and he was always “Gyo” after that. It was a first-name-basis kind of place. In fact, as I write this book, it makes me faintly uncomfortable to refer to the founders by their last names, but with so many Georges and Bills and Bobs, I have done so for clarity. (I have called later leaders by their first names.)
Part of mutual respect at HOK was self-responsibility. The firm relied on everyone to do the right thing. In fact, no one filled out a time sheet. Staff members were mostly salaried, and each person was expected to be diligent in his or her work. Obata himself always came in on Saturdays, so his team did, too. People worked, as needed, until a job was finished. It was also normal to see people working at night. In return, HOK respected our efforts and made it possible to do this with the least amount of stress. If people had to work late, HOK fed them and the founders lauded their work at the next staff meeting. It was part of the family feel. People treated each other with respect, were patient with each other's shortcomings, and celebrated both personal and firm growth.
Considerate Communication
The founders had a soft-spoken way of conveying what they wanted that I came to think of as “Suggest, Don't Tell.” They would make something sound like a request—“Why don't we do it this way”—but we all understood that it wasn't really a suggestion, it was an order. However, couched the way it was, it sure sounded a lot nicer. Maybe it was a midwestern characteristic, but in speaking like this, they were again demonstrating mutual respect for employees. When the leaders spoke, they didn't have to issue commands and edicts. Everyone knew what was expected. None of the founders had to raise his voice to be understood, and I never heard any of them shout in anger. This communication style trickled down to the staff in the way we addressed each other.
Another aspect of the founders' considerate communication was how they drew a line between public and private discussions. They praised excellent efforts and good teamwork publicly but corrected substandard work or lack of teamwork in private. If necessary, they let us know that we had disappointed them, but didn't harp on it, instead challenging us to do better next time. I have since heard a workplace saying for this: “If you're not happy with my work, tell me. If you are happy with my work, tell everybody.” Publicly humiliating people just makes them resentful. It doesn't help them improve, a concept many managers don't get.
Taking Care of Employees
When I was a young architect, I walked around with a copy of Ayn Rand's book The Fountainhead, in which the main character Howard Roark had great personal integrity—and was an architect! After much sacrifice, he ultimately achieved success and fame through the patronage of a powerful newspaper owner. I had also learned about the patronage system used during the Renaissance, when wealthy clients like the Medici family supported artists like Michelangelo. Even though HOK was my employer, I began to think of the firm as my patron, nurturing me in my career, so that I, in turn, could take care of HOK clients. This is more than nice—it's smart—since employees are the most important asset of any service business.
A good example of HOK taking care of its people occurred about a year after I joined the firm. I was working at my desk when Hellmuth came through the design department followed by one of the accountants, pushing a little cart filled with envelopes. Hellmuth gave each person an envelope and said a few words. When Hellmuth reached my desk, he retrieved an envelope from the cart and gave it to me. It was personalized with my name. He shook my hand and said, “Here's a gift of appreciation for your hard work. Thank you.” The envelope contained a bonus check made out to me, and I was thrilled! The founders understood that treating people well and giving them opportunities to grow were two keys to building a great firm.
Family Atmosphere
Hellmuth also had a more down-home way of thanking the staff. Every summer, he invited us to his farm in the Ozark Mountains of southern Missouri for a weekend of fun. The land was not suitable for traditional farming as the soil is thin and rocky with many caves, springs, and streams. Hellmuth's farm was called “The Sinks” for the stream that ran alongside the farmhouse before “sinking” directly into a hill nearby, forming a cave.
When I arrived in my VW Beetle on a typically hot, muggy Missouri summer day, HOK men were everywhere. Yes, it was mostly men then. In fact, Hellmuth called us “my boys.” Employees were sitting in the shade, lounging on the grass or swimming in the stream. Several had climbed on a ledge and were cannonballing into the stream, spraying everyone nearby with cool Ozark water. Good, clean fun was the order of the day.
When evening came, a station wagon pulled up and the tailgate opened to reveal every type of soft drink, beer, “adult beverage,” and mixer imaginable. Everyone had a drink or two and told HOK stories. Dinner was simple: steak and salad. One group made salads, but Hellmuth grilled all the steaks himself. He said, “A steak isn't good enough for my boys if it doesn't hang off both sides of the plate,” so these were enormous slabs of beef! Everyone lined up to get a plate, loaded up some salad, then stopped at the grill to get a steak from Hellmuth.
When it was my turn, he looked me in the eye and said, “Thank you, Patrick,” and he meant it sincerely. This was another way Hellmuth personally acknowledged each person's hard work. Everyone sat at picnic tables, or on rocks, or at big tables indoors. It was a great time, with lots of laughter. When it came time to sleep, everyone found a flat spot, took out a sleeping bag or an air mattress, and slept right where they were.
On Sunday morning, Hellmuth rang an old-fashioned school bell to get everyone moving. He organized groups to go to church, having mapped out directions to a church for every denomination. “It's okay to have a good time Saturday night, but by damn you're going to go to church on Sunday,” he insisted. Hellmuth established a wholesome code of conduct by his example. In fact, when an opportunity came to design the St. Louis Playboy Club, he turned it down. It didn't fit in with HOK culture.
These weekends—Hellmuth opening his home and inviting everyone in for a feast— were one more embodiment of HOK culture. The time spent swimming, horsing around, eating, and laughing helped everyone feel like family. He gave us a place to bond. Actually, he gave us two.
HOK's annual party was held in Hellmuth's backyard in St. Louis, where he also welcomed our spouses and friends. His mother lived next door and the two backyards were connected, so he used both for the party. A committee decorated the yard, and arranged live music, so it was a noisy event. People gave little speeches, and someone was usually pushed into the pool. Every year one of the neighbors would complain about the noise and end up calling the police, but Hellmuth always invited the officers in and gave them dessert. The police would warn the crowd to hold the noise level down, then depart.
These occasions were very personal and permeated with the wholesomeness of the Midwest. After only a short time at the firm, I felt like part of something larger—a team and a family. One of the biggest challenges HOK would face in the future was how to maintain that family culture when the firm was spread all over the country—and then the world.
One of the biggest challenges HOK would face in the future was how to maintain that family culture when the firm was spread all over …
Storytelling
Storytelling
