Remembering Tom Coble

Reflections on the Passing of Tom Coble, My Mentor and Friend

January 23, 2012

Since founding North Star Marketing in January of 2000, I've learned a great deal about life and business from a handful of men and women God has placed in my path to show me the way. They each have their own unique styles, their own signature approaches to management, business growth, people development, etc. These folks comprise a short list of personal heroes, many of whom blend their faith and business acumen to create companies that, while not on the Fortune 500, stand tall among their peers. Their influence in my life has been nothing short of providential.
 
On this list was (and always will be) Tom Coble, one of my all-time favorites. Few others have had such a profound impact on my life and business career as Tom. That's why I wept when I got the call at 2:30 a.m. last Saturday morning, informing me that he had died in a plane crash just a few hours earlier.
 
My friend, a man who had lived a truly remarkable life, a big life full of determination, accomplishment and generosity...was gone. And all I could do was weep and pray for his family.
 
Over the last 10 years, my little firm has provided marketing and public relations support for Coble Trench Safety, the company Tom founded in 2002. I still remember my first meeting with him in 2001 to discuss his plans for CTS. He was nearly done with his non-compete (three years earlier he had sold Coble Cranes & Equipment/Coble Rents to a publicly traded company). I was just a kid, short on business experience, but long on ideas, and, for whatever reason, he took a chance on me. "I think I've got one more business up my sleeve," he said. "Have you ever heard of trench safety? It's real big on the west coast, but nobody's doing it over here."
 
And so, Tom began to tell me about trench safety. In short, his plan involved renting and selling the equipment used to shore up excavation sites where dirt can cave in on utility and construction workers. He told me to think about it and come back to him with some ideas on how to promote his new business.
 
So I started working on a list of taglines.
 
At our next meeting, I rattled off several potential slogans for Coble Trench Safety. We had a few that would work, but there just wasn't a clear winner. After about 30 minutes, I had one left - one that I hadn't even planned to mention. But, realizing we weren't getting anywhere, I decided to step into the danger: "What about this one, Tom? ‘Life's a ditch. Brace yourself.'"
 
He paused, looked up...and started laughing. And shortly after, he called his attorney and trademarked it.
 
And so my relationship with Tom turned from former sixth-grade Sunday School teacher to business client. On the spot, he hired my little firm to develop the Coble Trench Safety brand (and when I say, "little firm," I do mean little - the entire North Star Marketing team consisted of yours truly and Rob McDorman, a talented designer who came aboard shortly before this meeting).

And Rob nailed it. He designed a strong red diamond bordered in black safety tape. Since 2002, the CTS logo has been reproduced countless times and stands tall along the I-85/40 corridor in Greensboro in front of the CTS home office. It's the brand that marks each of Tom's 11 CTS branches, from Atlanta to Baltimore.
 
Over the last decade, I've witnessed first-hand Tom's considerable business intellect in action. Simply put, he had a unique gift for making money. But the money was not the point. It was a means to an end. While Tom was many things to many people - a husband, a father, an employer, a customer, a donor, a pilot - he was first a Christian. And that fact was quickly evident to anyone who spent even a few minutes around him.
 
Of course, Tom would be the first to tell you he had his faults and would love to have some "do-overs," but the consistent pattern of his life was generosity, drive, purpose and action. He made others better. He lived what he believed.
 
Tom's deep convictions, grounded in his daily habit of reading a chapter a day from Proverbs, caused him to use his remarkable business talents to support numerous ministries and causes. He once told me, "I believe that if God gives you the gift of generosity, he also gives you the gift of making money." And give he did.
 
A year or so ago, I wrote a commencement speech for Tom to deliver to Liberty University's business school. On the morning of the talk, I loaded up with him and his family into his beloved King Air 200, and we took off for Lynchburg, VA. Later that day he stood in front of more than 100 college students and talked about the importance of setting God-sized goals. "Little thinkers are big stinkers," Tom said. He shared that one of his business goals was to give $100,000 per month to ministries. And, with a smile, he said he was well his way.
 
Now, that may come across as horn-tooting to some, but Tom didn't say things like this to earn a "wow" from the audience. In fact, he really didn't care a whole lot about what people thought of him. Rather, he wanted to challenge those students not to put limitations on what God can do through them.
 
I could write several more paragraphs filled with reasons why I admired Tom Coble, but I think you get the idea.

Over the weekend following Tom's death, it was both my hard duty and personal privilege to manage press communications for the company and family. As I wrote the press release and discussed the particulars of Tom's passing with members of the media, it in many ways felt like just another CTS project - fast-paced, quick turnaround, lots of people involved. But as the deadlines for the evening news approached and my cell phone stopped ringing, I re-read the press release I had drafted earlier in the day. And then it hit me.
 
I hadn't interviewed Tom for the story. No brief phone call, in which he would say, "Just make it sound good. See if you can put some lipstick on this pig." There was no quote from him. I would never again enjoy the banter that made Tom such a fun person to be around. I had gone deep-sea fishing with him. I had sat on hold during numerous cell phone conversations with him. And I had flown with him in the very jet that claimed his life. Those days were done. And again, I wept.
 
But a second thought came to mind. Tom and I were more than business acquaintances. We were brothers. You see, like Tom, I am a Christian, too. Tom is in heaven (and I can guarantee if there are cell phones in heaven, Tom has an unlimited plan). I will see him again. But he'd be the first to tell you heaven isn't primarily about renewing old friendships, although that will certainly be part of the joy. It's about Jesus Christ, Tom's Savior and mine. If Tom were still with us, he'd want you to know that life isn't about how big your business grows, how many planes, boats or houses you own, or whose number you've got stored in your cell phone.
 
It's about being ready for your final landing. Tom was ready. Are you?