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On Their Own
A native of upstate New York, where her parents ran a logging and sawmill operation, Quackenbush married young. A series of jobs followed as she put her husband through college, picking up her A.A. degree at night school along the way.
After her divorce, Quackenbush turned to truck driving on a lark, following the suggestion of a friend. While her son lived with her ex-husband, she spent three years driving a flatbed truck, carrying hazardous materials. "I enjoyed going across the country," she enthuses. "I could get equal pay for equal work."
When mother and son reunited, she gave up driving and in 1981 settled in Jacksonville. There, Quackenbush worked for three years as a secretary/administrative assistant at trucking firms. "I was earning $350 a week or so," she says, pausing to add, "I saw what could be earned on a commission basis as an agent."
So, using a $300 loan from her mother, Quackenbush, now 49, went out on her own as a freight-booking agent in 1983. In 1991, she received approval from the Interstate Commerce Commission to operate her own trucks. She focused on the niche of hauling freight for small specialty manufacturers and promised first-class service. Today White Line's trucks run in 48 states and the company is on Inc. magazine's list of the 500 fastest growing businesses.
Although Quackenbush's success in a male-dominated industry is of particular note, she is representative of thousands of Florida women who have started their own business ventures. The National Foundation for Women Business Owners (NFWBO) in Silver Spring, Md., extrapolated data from a 1992 U.S. Census study to estimate that in 1996 there were nearly 497,000 women-owned businesses in Florida, employing about 1.3 million people and generating over $141 billion in sales. That means women-owned businesses account for 38% of all Florida companies, provide 21% of the state's jobs and produce 31% of sales.
Women business owners start their ventures for a variety of reasons. Some aren't happy with the challenges, responsibilities and money in working for others. Others have been downsized (or fired). Still others believe that working for themselves will provide more flexibility to deal with family issues.
Successful women business owners have a few traits in common: They love what they do, set high goals, and believe in out-of-the-ordinary customer service to get their foot in the door and keep it there. Most don't think of themselves as "women" business owners; they are business owners, pure and simple. And they believe in themselves. Indeed, sometimes blind faith in their own abilities got them going in the first place.
"They say fools rush in where angels fear to tread," quips Sarasota's Michael Saunders, who opened her real estate business, Michael Saunders & Co., in 1976 with a $5,000 loan after trying out a host of careers: history teacher, juvenile court counselor, probation and parole officer and real estate salesperson.
Her unusual name, Michael (in honor of an ancestor who was a 16th century British poet), helped early on, giving her entree to people who expected to do business with a man. What really set Saunders apart, however, was her niche market - waterfront residential property - and stylish presentation both of herself and her property. My first office didn't look like a real estate office," recalls Saunders. "It had an antique armoire, a French iron bench and framed professional photographs of the property."
Today, Saunders, a striking 54-year-old with an infectious enthusiasm, spends $1 million annually on marketing. That tactic helped her sell more than $300 million in property in 1996, much of it luxury, waterfront homes and condos that sell for $350,000 to $3 million. And she's always looking for distinctive promotions. An example: Saunders recently opened a 6,500-square-foot real estate office in Sarasota to pitch properties, with a 60-inch television, an espresso bar and an Internet cafe. "This is show business," she says.
While Saunders always had big ideas for her business, Ann Machado confesses she started with modest expectations for Creative Staffing, the Miami temporary staffing company she opened in 1985. "My vision then was to have a nice little boutique business in Kendall, go home at 5 o'clock, and have time to bake brownies," she says.
That wasn't really Machado's style, however. By her own account, she had been a "superstar" in her previous career as an area vice president at Adia Personnel. Although Machado brought in millions of dollars in sales for the worldwide staffing company, she often clashed with top executives over business strategy. In August 1985, after 12 years in the business, she was fired.
Once in business for herself, Machado decided that to compete with the big boys - Manpower, Kelly Services, Adia - she would offer exemplary customer service and personal attention. If a client wanted a secretary who spoke three languages and would work three days a week, Machado found someone. When she signed up new customers, she wrote personal thank-you notes to them.
As Machado's business grew, her vision changed. "My life goal was to hit $5 million. Then I upped it to $10 million," she says. "Now I want $20 million." To help get to that point from her present $13.5 million in annual sales, Machado recently signed a joint venture deal with the Coral Gables employee leasing firm Vincam Group. And while Machado, 49, is looking for acquisitions, she hasn't ruled out selling the business if the right offer comes along. "The only reason I would sell is that, as people say, Ann Machado has a vision that's way beyond her checkbook."
Like all successful business owners, women pay a price. "It's late nights, a lot of hard work and not a lot of private time," says Saunders. Coincidence or not, Quackenbush, Saunders and Machado all are divorced.
Still, the satisfaction of running a successful business can be addictive. In one breath, Quackenbush talks of getting out of White Line in a few years, spending more time with her only grandchild and visiting her favorite spot, Palm Springs, Calif. A moment later she says, "I just can't let go."
