Robert B. Simpson: In support of the locals

In support of the locals

Consolidation is the name of the game these days. Banks, hospitals, pharmacies, automobile dealerships, and just about all other enterprises designed to serve the public are gulping each other down like business versions of Pac Man. Profits presumably increase dramatically, driven by those famous "economies of scale." Consolidation, though, doesn't necessarily do as much good for the people on the other side of the operation, the customers.

Small business owners, squeezed between the consolidated power houses on one side and online offerings on the other, are in desperate straits. As they are knocked off by their unequal competition, they are not the only ones to suffer. The rest of us, now left to the mercy of faceless boards of directors far removed from us and our daily concerns, become victims as well.

Many people in Columbus are doing everything they can to encourage support for local businesses. I salute them and try as much as possible to patronize local enterprises as they suggest. But nobody is perfect, certainly not I, and surely not even our local businesses. So I offer the following suggestions to local owners for possible improvement.

Make it easy for people to locate you. Remember when we had telephone books? Well, we pretty much don't any more. In a desperate cry for help some time ago, having had a car battery die suddenly, unexpectedly, and totally, I stepped into a nearby restaurant and asked to borrow a phone book so I could locate a local battery store. Helpful to a fault, but sans phone book, the manager produced an iPad and began searching. She was in the process of connecting me to three different stores in New England when I gave up and called a relative to come get me. Trying to find phone numbers on the Internet can be maddening. Finding the website of a business and then having to search through several screens for a phone number is also maddening.

If a prospective customer is persistent enough to finally find your phone number, and if you're not available, you really ought to return the call. I've been trying off and on for three years to get a modification, a safety issue, done to my house. Three different enterprises that do that kind of work have promised a call back to arrange an appointment. Repeatedly. None has ever called back. A different one, after I'd called several times, did call back and promised to be here to make an estimate on Friday. Unfortunately, I failed to pin down what month and year. I've decided to do without the modification.

The house I wanted to modify almost didn't get built in the first place. Fifteen years ago, a highly recommended local builder agreed to meet my wife and me on the site to discuss building a new, handicap-designed and equipped, home. We brought along blueprints and a list I'd typed of specific requirements, and we had a nice discussion. He said he would give me an estimate, but it would probably be two weeks before he could get back to me. That was fine. Many weeks and unanswered phone calls went by. His name never showed up among the obituaries. He continued to build houses. But not for me.

Lest you think I've had nothing but bad experiences to report, let me assure you that's not the case. While the bad examples tend to linger in your memory, I have plenty of good ones, too. Here's just one: A few years ago, when my family members were arriving well into the evening on the day after Christmas, we needed a large dinner ready to go at whatever time they got here, hungry and ready to eat and then exchange gifts. I ordered a large take-out dinner for seven. What I got was enough food for a small battalion, and it was delicious. I called and told the person who answered how pleased I was. She insisted on giving me the owner's email address. I wrote. He wrote back and, despite my arguing that I needed no reward, sent me a gift certificate worth half what I had paid for the original meal.

I'm going to send him a student to learn about good customer service as soon as that home builder calls me back.

Robert B. Simpson, a 28-year Infantry veteran who retired as a colonel at Fort Benning, is the author of "Through the Dark Waters: Searching for Hope and Courage."

This story was originally published November 14, 2015 at 12:00 AM with the headline "Robert B. Simpson: In support of the locals ."