I had seen the bumper stickers as a kid. I indeed wondered, “Where the heck is Wall Drug?” (Had I lived off I-90, I would have seen the legendary billboards as well.)
And in 2012, I made my pilgrimage to Wall Drug, truly a shrine of capitalism. It is a place where Something was made out of Nothing. And it should inspire each of us to never give up.
What is that Something? It is value.
I don’t mean value as in “bargain.” I mean something that added to the world–something that created value.
Perhaps you know the story: Pharmacist Ted Hosted purchased the Wall, S.D. drug store in 1931. He wanted a small town with a Catholic church. And he got it. The town had 231 residents. They lived in the back of the store, struggling to make it.
So how do you make a living when that is what you have, and the Great Depression is on? When you have what sure seems like Nothing? You make efforts to bring value to others.
Ted’s wife, Dorothy, was the first to think of advertising free ice water to folks visiting Mount Rushmore, recently opened at the time.
Think of the boon this would have been to travelers of that era.
His son, pharmacist Bill, added his ideas in 1951. And you really can’t call it a drug store any more. You can call it a mall.
Well, a mall with a lot of tourist attractions. And a chapel.
I was excited to try out the famous 5-cent coffee and donuts. They did not disappoint.
My pictures were blurry–maybe because I was excited. (Or because of the caffeine.)
Notice the art in the background? That’s another innovation of the son. To quote Wikipedia: “Wall Drug has over 300 original oil paintings in the Western Art Gallery Dining Rooms. This acquisition represents one of the country’s best private collections of original Western and Illustration Art. Artists featured include N. C. Wyeth, Harvey Dunn, Dean Cornwell, Louis Glanzman, and Harold Von Schmidt.”
That kind of art is a boon to just about anybody interested in beauty.
At Hip Socket we talk a lot about limiting beliefs. They can rear their head when you decide a “personality test” is the last word on yourself or a colleague, or when you let any labels define you.
Instead:
Small organizations can do the same things Dungeons & Dragons, LEGO and Porsche have done with their customer experiences.
Getting the less-glamorous job is a chance to ask, “What could I do to bring value with this?”
Big businesses look for “liberated thinkers” more than specialists and technicians.
I find Wall Drug inspiring. In the middle of nowhere, with about 200 customers to call their own, they created an empire now visited by 1 million each year.
What’s limiting you from bringing value to others?