Jeffry Herman

After being laid off from Dynasound, Kara, Kia, and I packed up and headed to the Consumer Electronics Show (CES) in Las Vegas, hoping I could land a new job. Bringing a three-month-old baby along might not have been conventional, but we figured it couldn’t hurt. While I spent my days walking the show floor, networking and searching for opportunities, Kara and Kia explored the sights and wandered through the grand hotels.

On the third day, luck finally struck. I stumbled upon a company from my home state of Minnesota—Blackbourn, a manufacturer of binders and vacuum-formed cases. They were looking to break into the entertainment and record industry, and that was a language I spoke fluently. I struck up a conversation with one of their reps, Harry Johnston, who later put in a good word for me with the National Sales Manager.

Soon after, I was hired as Blackbourn’s Los Angeles sales representative. My role was to nurture existing clients while also finding new business—something I had zero experience in. But I threw myself into the job, taking care of the two duplicators they already worked with and chasing down every lead they sent my way.

Then came the call that changed everything. My boss told me about a potential hire in San Francisco who had a connection to Disney. He made it clear: the lead was mine if I wanted it.

I was terrified to make that first sales call, but I pushed through my nerves and met with Adrian Gonzales, Disney’s buyer. As luck would have it, Disney’s current supplier had grown too large manufacturing their own products and decided to cut them loose. Another competitor was vying for the business, but they only produced albums with removable sleeves—Disney wanted theirs permanently sealed.

It was the perfect storm of opportunity, and I capitalized on it. Orders started rolling in for Dumbo, Peter Pan, Cinderella—you name it, I was producing it. That first year with Disney, I won Salesman of the Year and made an incredible $100,000 in commission.

Wanting to strengthen the partnership, I flew Adrian to Minnesota to tour our plants. Impressed by what he saw, Disney signed an exclusive vendor agreement with us. Blackbourn, in turn, promised to open a new manufacturing facility in Los Angeles to better serve their needs. They followed through, purchasing a binder manufacturer in Pomona—an hour and a half from my house.

They offered me the role of Sales Manager at the new plant, but there was a catch: I would need to work on-site. I commuted for six months before we finally moved to Northridge, cutting my drive down to an hour. Kara, still working as a hairstylist in Woodland Hills and made her own adjustments. Despite the big promises, I wasn’t optimistic about the new plant’s future.

Blackbourn invested in a state-of-the-art machine designed specifically to produce Disney’s albums. But in an attempt to cut costs, they abandoned the sealed-in format that had won Disney over in the first place. Still, with the exclusive agreement in place, I was pulling in $100,000 a year in commission.

Then, everything unraveled. The new machine didn’t perform as expected, and eventually, we lost Disney to a competitor. Blackbourn had poured millions into the venture and had nothing to show for it.

Despite the setback, they saw potential in me and wanted to bring me to Minnesota, grooming me for the National Sales Manager role. But I had seen enough. Rather than moving back, I took a different path, joining SPPI, a local broker.

It had been a wild ride—one filled with luck, risk, and some hard-learned lessons. But in the end, I knew it was time to move on to the next chapter.