The Ultimate Leadership Commitment

When I engage with new clients, I always gauge one thing up front: Do they have true Leadership Commitment? Without it, even the best Kaizen efforts will fizzle. With it, anything is possible and sustainable.

One example I’ll never forget came during a follow-up 5S Kaizen in a New Jersey manufacturing plant. Our first event had reduced tool and supply search time by 90% and lit a fire in the maintenance team.

Not everyone had been part of that first event. Some sat out to keep operations running and were skeptical their voices would be heard. But once they saw the results, they were eager to join round two.

We expanded to new areas: the electrical repair shop, outside storage, a mezzanine, even a pair of old shipping containers in the parking lot. Deep into “Sort” on Day one, we got word of a serious chemical upset in the plant. Our team leader, the Maintenance Manager, had to leave. I assumed the Kaizen would be put on hold.

But the leadership team made a bold decision. They would personally handle the crisis. They donned hazmat suits and tackled the environmental emergency so our team could stay focused on improvement. We got the Maintenance Manager back quickly.

It wasn’t easy for our team leader to stay on the sidelines. Normally, this was his job. But the plant leaders valued the Kaizen event enough to step in themselves.

Yes, we lost a team member here or there for the emergency effort. But by the end of the week, the crisis was under control, and our Kaizen team had cut “find time” by over 70%.

The biggest breakthrough was the clear alignment and support that the team received from their sponsors. They felt like they were working on something important and they were. I have no doubt that their results will live on and more employees will want to engage in similar work. They now know that their leaders have their backs.

Leadership isn’t just about solving problems—it’s about creating space for others to do their best work. When leaders show up for their people, their people show up for the work.

Working Like a Business Owner

During my career at Armstrong World Industries, I had the opportunity to travel across the U.S. and to many places around the world. I met impressive people everywhere, but the team I met in Team Valley, UK still stands out as some of the most invested employees I’ve ever encountered.

I was part of a four-person team visiting several of our European manufacturing plants to benchmark best practices and bring ideas back to our local manufacturing plants. The group included the industrial engineering manager, the capital engineering manager, a project engineer, and me.

As we visited plants across Germany and the Netherlands, we saw great examples of things we could adopt back home. We had some fun adventures, met interesting people, and saw some incredible sights.

Our final stop was the ceiling tile plant in Team Valley UK, which had a reputation for best-in-class performance, strong leadership, and a highly engaged workforce.

As we walked the plant floor in the morning, it was immediately obvious why the plant ran so well. Everyone was actively working to keep things running smoothly, following standard work, and using simple, effective tools to maintain operations. Operators and mechanics weren’t just doing their jobs—they were fully involved in improving them.

In the afternoon, we sat in on a technical review by the company’s leading dryer scientist. The room was full, and the discussion dove deep into the science of curing ceiling tiles. I was completely lost in the technical details—and I would’ve dozed if not for the energy in the room.

What kept it alive was the engagement. The most insightful, animated questions were coming from hourly operators. They weren’t there just to listen—they were trying to understand every detail so they could run their lines better. At one point, the scientist even told them, “You all understand this better than I do.” I don’t know if it was true, but it sure felt like it.

It was clear the leadership had built a culture where people truly cared. Not just about doing their jobs, but about understanding why things worked the way they did. Everyone from hourly operators to engineers was fully invested in the success of the plant.

That experience solidified something for me: the way we lead directly shapes the culture and performance of an organization. It’s not a new concept, but seeing it in action left a lasting impression. It still influences how I approach leadership and team engagement today.

Butt Ugly by Friday

I’ve collected a lot of sayings over the years I use during Kaizen events. Some are pretty familiar, like “Go to Gemba” or “Don’t let best get in the way of better.” But the one that seems to get the most attention and sticks with teams long after the event is: “Butt Ugly by Friday.”

Let me explain what it means and where it came from.

Kaizen events I facilitate run for a week or less, typically wrapping up on a Friday. By the end of the week, the team reports out to an audience and gets to show off the changes and improvements they’ve made. The challenge of Kaizen is: teams usually have more ideas than time. They want to improve many things, but they can easily get bogged down trying to make each one change perfect.

Years ago, I was facilitating a Kaizen in Pensacola, Florida. One of the teams was stuck on the same problem for two or three days. During a check-in with the local Lean manager, I mentioned the issue. His response changed the way I coach teams to this day.

“Adam,” he said, “you’ve got to tell them to get it Butt Ugly by Friday. That’s what we always say at the plant. It helps shift the mindset from perfection to progress. It doesn’t have to look pretty; it just has to work.”

I took his advice and helped the team move forward, even though their solution wasn’t perfect. It still made things better. Kaizen isn’t about perfection. It’s about improvement.

I use the term “Butt Ugly by Friday” in my introductory training with Kaizen teams on Day 1. It sets the tone right from the beginning. We’re not chasing perfect. We’re chasing better, safer, smarter, and faster. It gives teams permission to try things, test quickly, and learn fast. By the end of the week, team members remind me that they have improved things and made them “Butt Ugly by Friday.”

The phrase is simple, silly, memorable, and effective. People feel comfortable experimenting and are willing to fail quickly. Instead of waiting until the end of the week to find out if something works, they find out now.

Continuous improvement should be so simple and accessible that anyone can do it. More importantly, they actually want to. That’s how to build a culture where improvement can happen anytime, anywhere, from anybody.

Shining Like a Star

I love facilitating Kaizen events. They can be life-changing. Some team members grow so much over the course of a single week, it’s hard to believe they're the same person by Friday. This is the story of one such transformation, a moment that left people amazed.

Our team was working on a critical issue in the maintenance shop and support areas. It took over 20 minutes to find the parts, tools, or equipment needed for a repair. That might not sound like much, but when a maintenance technician has to go back and forth seven times for different tools or parts, the time adds up fast. It has a direct impact on equipment downtime.

We chartered and scoped the event to cover the inside maintenance shop, an upstairs storage area, a heavy-duty outdoor rack, and a shipping container (about 50 feet long) sitting on the pavement behind another building. Along with improving safety, our goal was to reduce "find time" by at least 75%, with a goal of 5 minutes or less.

The team consisted of four hourly maintenance technicians, their leader, my sponsor, an engineer, a maintenance planner, and the HR leader.

We kicked off bright and early at 6 a.m. Monday, which was the team’s normal shift start. They were quiet, skeptical, and clearly not ready for what was about to happen. I brought the energy, and a few of them perked up a bit during our Lean and 5S overview. We would be utilizing 5S (Sort, Set in Order, Shine, Standardize, Sustain) as the approach to meet our goals.

During our Gemba walk, everyone was jotting down ideas on Post-its. The spaces were packed with clutter. I could already tell we’d hit our goals easily, but the team wasn’t so sure—they were still stuck in their current state mindset.

When we walked out to the shipping container, I noticed Steve, one of the mechanics and a big, strong guy, writing furiously.

Me: “Steve, looks like you’ve got a lot to say about this container. What’s on your mind?”

Steve: “Adam, I’m in here all the time—sometimes at night, in the rain. Look at me—I sweat just walking in during summer. And it’s pitch black at night. I can’t see anything.”

Me: “What are you usually looking for?”

Steve: “PVC parts. There are thousands of them. They’re all mixed up. Sometimes it takes me hours to find what I need.”

He wasn’t exaggerating. Some of these parts were barely an inch long, mixed in boxes with all kinds of unrelated items. I wasn’t sure why they were even stored outside, but I hoped we could fix that.

After our walk, we got together to share improvement ideas. Our first step was Sort. We broke the team into three groups: one for the shop, one for the upstairs storage area, and one for the shipping container.

I volunteered for container duty. Most folks were happy to avoid it. The weather was cold but clear. The engineer joined me, and we got direction from Steve and the maintenance lead on what to toss and what had to be kept.

We filled two dumpsters with obsolete filters. It turns out a vendor handled all filter replacements now with their products. This was an easy win.

Next, we tackled the PVC parts. We loaded them onto carts and brought them inside. It was a job that took the remainder of Day 1 and part of Day 2.

Steve couldn’t believe we were actually following through on this. He started to envision a setup with labeled bins in the upstairs storage area. That night, he volunteered to present our progress update. When he stood up in front of the group, jaws dropped.

Apparently, Steve never spoke in meetings or even said much to his coworkers. He was friendly and hardworking, but mostly kept to himself. No one remembered him speaking in front of a group during his time at the plant.

The rest of the week, the transformation continued. Steve was laughing, cracking jokes, and fully engaged in every discussion. He found his spark.

By Friday, the container had been repurposed for outdoor equipment. Signage was clear and easy to follow. All the PVC parts were inside, organized, and labeled in bins. We did a test with six people who didn’t know the space, and their average "find time" was under three minutes.

During our final report-out, Steve shared what the changes meant to him. “I don’t have to go out in the dark, in bad weather, and dig around. I know exactly where everything is now. We need to do this in other places, too.”

Steve and the rest of his team will never look at clutter or wasted time the same way again. His growth didn’t just help the team, it made a difference for him personally. And that’s what Kaizen should be all about.

Hope is a Precious Commodity

In a previous story, I described how a strategy session for a building products company led to several reliability improvement Kaizen events. This story focuses on one of those events in Mississippi.

I’m passionate about helping teams improve the reliability of their processes, using basic yet effective techniques to immediately boost the performance of their manufacturing lines. The best part is that the team can see and feel the results, and the techniques I teach are easy to learn and transferable to other lines and processes within the facility.

I flew into Memphis early on a Sunday morning, with no plant commitments until the afternoon, so I decided to tour Graceland and learn more about Elvis Presley. Although I wasn’t a fan before the visit, I gained a lot of respect for the man, his philanthropic efforts, and his impressive cars and eccentric outfits. It was quite the experience.

Afterwards, I met my contact at the plant, and we set up the meeting room for the upcoming week. He mentioned that many of the team members were hourly operators and mechanics who were skeptical about what could be achieved, and whether their voices would truly be heard. We walked through the plant, and he showed me the line we would be working on. Based on what I saw, I was confident we could make a real difference and engage the team in a way that would be meaningful to them.

On Monday morning, we kicked off the session with safety expectations, introductions, a charter review, and an overview of Lean and reliability principles. I quickly learned that most of the team members had no prior experience with Lean or Kaizen, so I had to start with the basics. This typically takes about 2 to 3 hours, and I present it using PowerPoint and activities. I know that people aren’t always excited about slides, but in my experience, some foundational understanding is necessary before we take our Gemba Walk. It used to take a full day, so I think I’ve gotten more efficient at it.

During the Gemba Walk, the team members were able to connect the reliability concepts I was teaching them to the issues on the line. If they were unsure about something, I could point out specific opportunities for improvement.

Back in the meeting room, we identified and prioritized the areas we would focus on. We broke into three sub-teams, and I worked with two mechanics and an operator to begin with the most basic tasks: centerlining and leveling the equipment.

They were shocked to see how much of the equipment was misaligned and out of level. The good news is that by the second morning, everything had been leveled and centered. The better news was that when we restarted the line, it ran better than anyone could remember.

Excitement began to fill the team, and improvements were happening across the board. By Wednesday, Jake, a mechanic who had been with the plant for over 20 years and was initially skeptical, came up to me, tapped me on the shoulder, and said, “Adam, you messed up (not exactly what he said, but you get the idea)! You gave me hope!”

I told him, “I’d like to say I’m sorry, but I’m not! Now that you know what’s possible, your job is to share it with your coworkers on the other lines!”

The rest of the week flew by, and by Friday, we had achieved something we were all proud of. The difference between this line and the others in the plant was striking. Now, the only thing shutting the line down was planned maintenance.

Jake took on the role of Area Owner, proudly holding himself and others accountable for following all of the reliability and safety requirements on the line. During a recent visit to the plant, he even demonstrated the principles of reliability to my original sponsor, the vice president of manufacturing.

Skepticism had been replaced by optimism, and the plant has already begun transferring what they learned to other lines. Before long, they should have all of their lines operating at higher reliability levels.

Simpler is Safer, Lighter, and Better

I was in Florida, working with a residential building products manufacturer on our second Kaizen event together. This time, we focused on improving materials delivery to the production lines. The tasks were challenging, physically demanding, and slow, leading to high turnover in the material handling position.

Our ultimate goal was to make the job safer and easier, reducing turnover and its associated costs while boosting employee satisfaction across the organization.

We started the week with a Lean Principles workshop, followed by a Gemba Walk to observe the current processes. The good news? There were plenty of opportunities for improvement. The better news? Together, we’d brainstorm and implement solutions to reduce waste and achieve our goals.

The team divided into three sub-teams, each focusing on a specific area:

1. Delivery and loading of granular materials to the line

2. Organization of raw materials

3. Delivery and loading of rolled materials to the line

Granular Materials Team

This team observed workers shoveling materials into buckets, carrying them up a ladder, and pouring them into bins for processing—a labor-intensive and risky process. Could it be automated?

With creativity, quick thinking, and the repurposing of existing equipment, they modified a shop vacuum to draw materials directly from containers into the bins. They added a simple sensor to stop the vacuum when the bin was full and another to alert the operator when it was time to restart.

Organization Team

Using spaghetti diagrams, they mapped operator movements during daily tasks. The diagrams revealed a chaotic system: materials were stored wherever space was available, with no clear organization.

By rearranging the workspace, they created a visual and logical storage system, reducing unnecessary movement by over 75%.

Rolled Materials Team

This group tackled three main issues:

1. Placing rolls on a carrier

2. Placing the carrier on the production line’s framework

3. Moving and removing rolls when empty

To address the first issue, they replaced the heavy, cumbersome threaded rod and collar system with a smooth rod and spring clamps, similar to those used in weightlifting. This eliminated the time-consuming process of centering the roll and screwing collars into place. It also removed the need for heavy end plates, reducing the roll’s weight by over 10 pounds.

For the second and third issues, eliminating the end plates allowed them to redesign the system. They replaced the cradles on the framework with pinned locations, enabling rolls to slide directly into place and be securely pinned. This made centering effortless and eliminated the need to lift rolls over cradle points.

The Results

By the end of the event, every team had developed solutions that made the work safer, simpler, and more efficient. Even better, the changes were cost-effective and could be easily replicated across other lines in the facility.

Early feedback has been overwhelmingly positive. Employees report higher satisfaction and engagement, and we anticipate this will lead to significantly lower turnover in the material handling role.

Sometimes, the simplest solutions really are the best.

Creative Problem Solving Happens at Any Age

Problems are everywhere. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed and give up, thinking there are more problems than solutions. While it’s true we can’t solve everything—and some things are simply out of our control—my advice is to focus on the problems you can solve and be willing to experiment until you get the results you’re looking for.

If you have small children, once had small children, or were a child yourself, you know they approach problem-solving in their own way. Want to build a fort but lack proper materials? A sofa and a bedsheet—BOOM—instant fort. Scribble wildly with crayons and declare it’s the solar system? Why not?

Growing up, my parents encouraged me to experiment and try things. My father was a patent examiner, and he often shared stories about the inventions he reviewed. He was also an inventor himself. Most of the time, I thought his ideas were silly, but that didn’t stop him from coming up with new ways to solve old problems.

We had a blue 1965 Dodge station wagon (yes, I’m that old). This was before seatbelt laws, and it wasn’t unusual for kids to stand up in the back seat to get a better view of the road. Honestly, it’s amazing we survived. We used the station wagon for family trips, with Mom and Dad in the front seats and my brother and me in the back. Dad had put foam mats back there to “protect” us from the road’s bumps and potholes.

Cars in those days were noisy, and it was hard to communicate from the back to the front. My brother and I, being little boys, spent most of the ride fighting, playing, and constantly needing something: snacks, drinks, bathroom breaks, or help breaking up fights. Mom and Dad couldn’t hear us over the road noise, so Dad decided to invent a solution.

After a few failed attempts, he cut a long vacuum hose down to an eight-foot length and ran it from the back of the wagon to the front seat. If we needed something, we’d speak into the hose, and Mom or Dad could (hopefully) hear us. Amazingly, it worked. For years, we had a cutting-edge communication system that no other car—or wagon—could match.

Eventually, cars got quieter, and the need for the hose disappeared. More likely, we got too big to ride in the back of the wagon, or someone finally realized tossing two boys into the back of a car without restraints wasn’t the best idea.

These days, when I facilitate Kaizen events, I encourage my team members to think like kids: try new things, embrace curiosity, and don’t be discouraged if an idea doesn’t work on the first try. There’s always something to learn, and often, they solve problems no one else has been able to tackle. Who knows? Maybe they’ll even come up with the next advanced communication system.

A Good Story Provides a Good Opportunity

I’ve always been a storyteller. Some people enjoy my stories, while others wish I’d get to the point faster. I get it—my approach isn’t for everyone. But storytelling is how I communicate my ideas. Sometimes, it even helps me get my way or stumble into an interesting adventure. Here’s one of those adventures.

I was working with a team on a project at Armstrong’s St. Helens, Oregon, plant. Our goal was to reduce changeover time across the facility using Lean techniques and some capital investments. Things were going well, but the project required the team to spend many weeks away from home.

When you travel a lot, routines develop—familiar hotels, restaurants, bars, and, of course, the facility you’re helping. But sometimes, you just want to break out of that routine. One trip, we flew into the Seattle airport, arriving midday, and didn’t need to be at the plant until the next morning.

Someone suggested dining at the Space Needle, about 30 minutes away. It seemed like a great idea, even though we didn’t have reservations. Fueled by a spirit of adventure, we decided to drive over and see if we could talk our way into a table.

On the way, we tracked down the phone number and called to see if there were any openings. Unsurprisingly, dinner was fully booked. But we weren’t deterred.

I decided to try my hand at persuasion. I told the host a bit of a half-truth: “We’ve just arrived in Seattle, traveling all the way from Pennsylvania specifically to dine at the Space Needle. Isn’t there any way you could find seating for four people who have always dreamed of dining with you?”

To my surprise, the response was warm and accommodating: “Of course we can. You’ve come all this way; we’d hate for you to be disappointed.” Thrilled, I asked for a contact name so we could personally thank them when we arrived.

Thirty minutes later, we walked into the Space Needle, where it seemed everyone knew about “the four travelers from Pennsylvania.” They were impressed that we had flown 3,000 miles just for dinner.

We stuck to our story the entire evening and soaked in the experience. The dinner was fantastic, the views from 500 feet above Seattle were stunning, and it became a memory we’d treasure for years.

As a bonus, the experience brought our team closer. We worked together more cohesively, and we started seeking out new adventures to share throughout the project.

These days, I encourage my Kaizen teams to create shared experiences during event weeks. Whether it’s through solving problems together, team dinners, or happy hours, I’ve noticed these moments rapidly build engagement and camaraderie.

I wouldn’t necessarily recommend stretching the truth often, but this felt like a victimless crime—unless someone lost their reservation because of “four travelers from Pennsylvania.” If that’s you, this story never happened!

The Unexpected Benefit

It was my first Kaizen event with a new client in Florida. They make building products for the residential market. On my first visit with Brian, my sponsor, I saw many opportunities to apply Kaizen to and made my recommendations. He picked his current pain point, which was labor utilization at the end point of a multi-line operation. The goal of the Kaizen event would be to balance work across all lines and require less labor to support the operation. The people wouldn’t be sent home, they would be redeployed to other parts of the plant where overtime was being used to keep things running.

Brian was the plant manager and Jeff, our team leader, was the operations manager. We built the team with top players, as this first Kaizen event would set the tone for future efforts. We wanted a strong win. Our goals were challenging. Besides improving safety, we needed to reduce labor required by 30 percent.

Messaging to the team had to be supportive and reassuring. No one would lose their jobs by reducing labor required. I worked with Brian and Jeff to write the charter and communicate to the team in ways to strengthen their message and not make them fearful they would be blamed for labor reductions.

Our first day included a Gemba walk to a very hot production floor. It must have been 100 degrees. We watched team members do a lot of waiting and a few quality and cleaning tasks, except at one critical moment: When the pallet was full, it had to be wrapped, strapped, labeled, and removed. All while the next products were coming through the line (albeit at a very slow rate).

There were a few other tasks that took time away from the line, including a quality check every 30 minutes. This required the operator(s) to take a long part from the line, bring it to a saw, cut it to a specified length, and verify density of the product through a weighing process. Operators didn’t like this task for many reasons, including the transport of the product, time away from the line (which could happen at the moment packaging had to occur), and the use of the saw in the hot environment.

When we finished our Gemba walk, the team returned to the meeting room to brainstorm ways to improve things and simplify tasks. They prioritized three activities they thought could reduce effort and labor required: housekeeping, palletization, and product sampling and quality checks.

The housekeeping team created a cart with everything operators needed to maintain and keep the lines clean. All supplies were provided that typically would be searched for during the day, reducing time and effort for all operations.

The palletization team created locations for supplies, developed simpler palletizing methods, and created standard work that greatly reduced the time it took to wrap and palletize the product. This not only simplified things, but also reduced the stress the operators felt when finalizing each pallet of material.

The product sampling and quality check team wanted to reduce the time and effort it took to cut and weigh parts of the finished product. They experimented with relocating the saw, possibly buying a new saw or two, and buying another scale or two. All of those ideas would have helped. But then, someone asked, “Why do we need to cut the product at all?” The light bulb came on. What if they didn’t, and could weigh the finished product, without losing the critical quality information necessary for certification?

Inspired, they found an extra scale and weighed dozens of products, verifying the correlation between their results and the prior method. They met with the quality manager to align around their approach. He helped them build a plan to ensure their method could work. With the statistics confirming their method, the team had to come up with a simple way for operators to do the sampling without having to leave the line.

They mounted a scale to a cart that had height adjustments. Once they configured it properly, the cart could be brought up to the stack of products and one piece (up to 30 feet long) was slid onto the scale to get a quick reading. If too heavy for one person (identified in the standard work), they would get assistance from another operator or the section lead.

This new method turned a messy, hot, heavy, and minutes-long process into mere seconds. It was a huge win. But, even more than that, the need to destroy finished product had been eliminated, saving many hundreds of thousands of dollars annually.

Why didn’t they come up with this solution before the Kaizen, you may ask? We only know what we know. For the many years of the prior approach, no one had ever questioned it. People just did what they had been trained to do. Kaizen opened our eyes to possibilities and gave us the latitude to try new things. And because of this, we won.

Macon a productivity improvement

Many of my early projects for Armstrong World Industries were at the Macon Georgia plant. This was and still is the largest ceiling plant in the world, with a capacity of over half a billion square feet of ceiling tiles produced annually.

I was asked to join a team that was going to help the Macon plant return to budget performance by the middle of the year. At the time, I was known and requested for my product flow and team improvement experience. A group of a dozen engineers, scientists, and project managers traveled to the plant for the week to identify the work we could quickly accomplish to improve plant performance and achieve the required budget attainment by the end of the current operating quarter.

The plant is separated into two operating units: board forming and fabrication. My expertise and experience are in fabrication, so that’s where I was assigned.

When we arrived, I told the team I would take a Gemba walk of the total fabrication business unit and share my recommendations by the end of the day. Hunter, an experienced project manager, and Jason, an electrical engineer asked to join me. I was happy to have help.

As we walked the department, we saw and identified many areas of opportunity that would incrementally improve performance, but to get back to budget performance, we needed a bigger win. And then, we found it. There was a line feeding another major line. As it turns out, it was starving the following line, because it couldn’t supply boards fast enough.

We took a deeper look to see what was causing things to run so slowly. I climbed all over the line to get a visual perspective on what was happening. What I saw shocked me. Large rectangular boards were going around at angles and bumping into guides and equipment and causing jams and shutdowns. It shouldn’t be this difficult to run, I thought.

We measured the operating speed of the line and determined 18 boards could get through the line per minute, when the line was actually running, which wasn’t very often, due to jams. The line was capable of running faster, but the technicians had slowed everything down because they couldn’t trust the boards to flow through the line smoothly.

This was our opportunity. We needed to solve the problems on the line to improve the flow and allow the operating speed to be increased to match the line being fed upstream. This was the project we presented to the rest of the team. I believed we could easily gain ten percent productivity on the line, if not more, which would allow the upstream line to produce closer to its budget with the same labor and energy costs. This improvement would be worth a significant percentage of the overall losses we were trying to recoup.

We were assigned some maintenance support for the rest of the week. Using my reliability and board flow approach, we were able to get boards to flow through the line at 22 boards per minute, which was a twenty percent productivity improvement. We locked all settings in, so that we could sustain the performance and not worry about others adjusting things back to the previous conditions.

This project and many others helped the plant beat its budget commitments and continued to build my reputation as a quick problem-solver and board flow expert. Many years later, I still teach board flow and reliability techniques to clients around the world and the results have been extremely positive and satisfying.

Never tell someone their baby’s ugly

I have been influenced by many pop-culture references over the years. During my Kaizen events, words or phrases come out of my mouth that are my attempt to make the situation relatable to the team and make them feel better about the situation they’re in and the problem they’re facing. I want them to realize it’s not the first time something bad happened in business and their problems aren’t insurmountable. I wasn’t always this way – maybe you can learn from my mistakes!

Many years ago, I was taking a Gemba walk with a team from Armstrong’s Pensacola plant. During the walk, I saw build-up, dirt, and clutter on and around the production equipment. It really bothered me and I said out loud, “we should be ashamed of the way we are maintaining and operating our equipment.” I was immediately taken off to the side by the plant Lean manager and told I shouldn’t say these things out loud. I, of course, got respectfully defensive. Not really. I said, “Look at the state of the equipment. What does it say about how we feel about our employees, by setting such a bad example of leadership expectations?”

That didn’t sit well, and he walked me to the Plant Manager’s office. We had a mostly one-sided conversation. I was told I needed to watch my words and not make people feel bad about their working conditions. It wasn’t productive and brought down the mood of the team.

To this day, I still feel the same way about difficult working conditions, but I don’t speak my feelings out loudin front of the team. Instead, I think about how to get them to see their situation as unacceptable and motivate them to do something about it.

I am reminded of one of my favorite Seinfeld episodes, “The Hamptons.” The gang (Jerry, George, Kramer, and Elaine) goes to the Hamptons to see the new baby of their mutual friends, Carol and Michael. The baby is so ugly that upon seeing him, Kramer does an exaggerated double-take and says the little girl looks like Lyndon Johnson, who wasn’t attractive. The rest of the episode is about the gang trying to not make the parents feel bad about their baby. Hilarious, but it shares a parallel with my approach to improvement teams.

I want my team to see their baby, their process, as ugly, and then do something to it to make it beautiful. The way I do it now is to show an outrageous photo from the internet (there are so many of them) of a group of people doing something obviously unsafe. When I show the photo, I have the team members describe the safety risks they see. There are obvious ones, such as don’t put a ladder on top of another ladder  on the forks of a forklift, in order to change a light bulb  thirty feet in the air.

After they laugh at the absurdity of the photo (many of these are real situations), I point out the people doing the work think what they’re doing is ok and if we were to tell them we think it’s unsafe, they would probably run us off or worse. Then I tell the story of the Seinfeld episode and make the analogy that we can’t call the baby “ugly.” Once we make that connection, I tell them by the end of the Kaizen event, we will see our original process as the “ugly baby” and our job is to turn it into something beautiful we can be proud of.

This approach has improved the alignment and engagement of the team and has kept me from making my team members feel bad about their processes. By the end of the week, they’re talking about how they made their baby a beauty to behold and they own the changes that made that transformation.

When Someone Knows You Better than you Know Yourself

I met Cody at a conference in December. We got along so well he invited me to visit his new company in Florida. Before the conference was over, he asked for six copies of my book, “The Wheel of Sustainability.” He wanted a copy for every member of his leadership team. Cody told me he was going to require them to read it before my visit. I was happy to share my books, as no one had shown so much interest in them before. I never could have imagined the level of interest and enthusiasm of one person in particular.

In January, I flew to Florida to visit Cody and his team for the day. I was met outside their new corporate building with a bear hug. Cody led me into a conference room and introduced me to his leadership team. I sat down and noticed 4 skeptical looking, “grumpy old men” sitting across the table. Cody sat on my side of the table, and in front of him was my book, with many pages dog-eared.

I introduced myself and shared my interest in the work they were doing in their new company. After a few minutes, one of the men across the table asked me a terse question. I interpreted it to mean, “Who are you and why are you here? We have more important things to do today.” I answered I might be able to help them on their journey as a start-up.

After a few more minutes of shallow questioning, the COO talked about a specific problem they were having. The CIO entered the conversation and after a few minutes, I shared a view of how I might go about solving the problem with a team. Cody then said, “That’s from page 144 of your book, isn’t it Adam?” I was shocked he knew the book well enough to cite the page number. He proceeded to show me it was indeed on page 144. Was this a coincidence?

The conversation started to get more engaging and now it was clear the leadership team was warming up to me and my approach. We started talking about another critical issue they were facing, and I shared my experience in helping other teams in similar circumstances. Cody interjected, “That’s right off page 198, isn’t it Adam?” I said, “I’m not really sure, but I think it’s in my book somewhere.” Cody showed me it was on page 198 and said, “Don’t you know what pages you put your wisdom in?” I replied, “Cody, I was so happy to finish the book I haven’t opened it since. You know my book better than I do!”

Now the room was on my side, we were talking about issues and I was demonstrating ways to help them they could use immediately. After about two hours, the meeting concluded and Cody walked me around the rest of the corporate facility, sharing his vision of what he hoped the company could become. I was inspired.

At dinner, Cody and his team agreed we should figure out a way I could be a part of their start-up journey. I was fortunate enough to be able to assist them for a while and now have the additional opportunity to work with Cody as a partner in my business. It turns out that no matter the circumstances, you should treasure those in your network who are there to support you and understand you better than you might understand yourself.

Five Tips for Effective Meetings

Have you ever had a meeting where it seems like nothing was accomplished? Is every meeting this way for you? Do your meetings start late? I have facilitated hundreds of meetings and Kaizen events and have learned over the years these five key tips to an effective meeting.

1.      Define the purpose.

2.      Create a clear agenda.

3.      Facilitate the meeting.

4.      Set expectations.

5.      Hold accountability for actions.

Define the purpose of the meeting.

Why are we meeting in the first place? What are the expectations for the team members in the meeting? Why are they there? If everyone knows why they’re there and what’s expected of them, they will more likely prepare and engage in the meeting. It also makes it easier to choose team members for the meeting. Simply put, if someone is not aligned with the purpose, they shouldn’t be invited.

Create a clear agenda.

The path from the beginning of the meeting to the end should be mapped out. How do we get to a decision as a team? What information will be shared? Who is expected to share it? What preparation should happen prior to the meeting? Does the agenda lead us to our purpose? Taking the time to create an agenda helps to remove any of the excess or unnecessary parts of the meeting, resulting in shorter, more focused meetings.

Facilitate the meeting.

Don’t leave things to chance. Someone should run and manage the meeting. This person can help the team stay on track, not wandering “into the weeds.” It’s best to use a facilitator who isn’t deeply invested in the topic being covered, but that may not be practical. Facilitation is a skill that’s highly valued, so rotating this responsibility will help team development.

Set expectations.

Start and end on time – that’s the first expectation of any effective meeting. It seems so simple, but we let things get in the way of being punctual. Other expectations should be shared as ground rules for the team. Examples include: One voice at time, be open to others’ views, work collaboratively, no calls or texting during the meeting, and others the team may develop. If anyone breaks a ground rule, the facilitator should call them out immediately and correct their behavior. The sooner this is done, the more serious the rest of the team will take these expectations. Following ground rules is a sign of respect for the team and the topic being discussed.

Hold accountability for actions.

Every meeting should have an outcome. Sometimes it’s the sharing of critical information. Other times, there are action items that must be completed. Team members should know what they’re accountable for and be responsible to meet their obligations. Therefore, assignments should be listed visually, with owners and due dates. Updates should be a part of the meeting agenda. Don’t wait until an assignment is due. You want to make sure the assignment owner has a chance to complete his/her task(s). If they’re on track, thank them. If not on track, provide help.

These tips work. It takes a while for the team members to get used to them. But once they do, your meetings will be more productive, effective, and engaging.

Leadership Commitment in a Most Challenging Situation

Last year, Dave, a network connection, reached out to me to see if I could help him in his continuous improvement journey. His wife had worked with me at Armstrong, and one evening he was talking with her about some of his frustrations at work. She said, “If you want to get the right help, call Adam. He is tenacious and won’t let you or your team fail.”

Dave invited me to his factory, which was quite large and had several furnaces that smelted and poured molten metal into ingots for high value customers. They had a problem with tools and equipment going missing, which led to significant productivity losses. He wanted to reinitiate and strengthen their 5S program. I knew I could help, and wrote a proposal for the work, which was approved quickly.

We scheduled the Kaizen event for eight weeks from my initial visit. This would allow Dave to prepare leadership and gather the proper team for the Kaizen. We had already chartered and scoped the event to cover one of the furnaces. Our idea was that our improvements could be replicated to the other furnaces in the facility.

In the meantime, I spent a day at the facility getting required safety training and preparing Dave for the event. We picked a conference room and identified the supplies necessary during the week.

Three days before the Kaizen event, Dave called to tell me he had contracted COVID. I asked him if he wanted to postpone the Kaizen. He told me no and if I could pick up the supplies from his home (in his driveway), one of the team members would fill in as team leader until he could participate at the facility. He would use Zoom to attend and participate on the first day of the Kaizen. His five-day isolation period would then end, and he could attend in person on the second day, but would have to wear a mask.

I wasn’t sure what to make of this. All my Kaizen events (up to that time) were in-person, and I didn’t really know how engaged Dave could be attending virtually. But I was willing to give it a try and make the best of it.

On the Sunday before kick-off, I met Lisa, who was going to fill in for Dave as team leader. She helped me prepare the meeting room. We talked about how we could engage all team members, including Dave on the first day of the Kaizen. We set up a laptop for Dave that we could point toward the team and the screen, so that he could engage with the team and keep up with the discussions. Luckily, he and I had spent time in the workspace, so he had a list of ideas to share during that portion of the Kaizen.

At kick-off on Monday, we introduced everyone and shared Dave’s story and said we were going to make the best of a difficult situation. For Dave’s part, he stayed on Zoom the entire time, engaging and speaking with the group at appropriate moments. When we went out to the facility floor, Dave waited for us to text him that we were returning to the meeting room. The team had many ideas and Dave was able to share his as well. When we prioritized the many ideas into a vital few, Dave was able to participate as if he were in the room. We took the laptop over to the list of ideas and Lisa voted on Dave’s behalf.

Now it was time to work on the high priority projects. Dave couldn’t really do that, so he signed off until we met to wrap up for the day. He listened intently to the team’s progress and gave them encouragement and told them he couldn’t wait to come in the next day and help them in their work.

The second day, Dave showed up with a facemask and kept his distance from the team members. He jumped on one of the project teams and was able to participate in the improvement work. Throughout the week, the team felt more comfortable letting Dave engage in the work and by the end of the week, he was able to help complete many critical tasks.

At the end of the week, the team had made significant improvements to their furnace area. We did a quick estimate on the impact on productivity and changeovers and felt we had made a huge impact on both. Time would tell, of course. For his part, Dave earned the respect of the team and had his first true win in his position as Continuous Improvement Manager. I was impressed by his dedication and commitment and was thankful we didn’t have to postpone or cancel this Kaizen event. I also learned it was possible to engage remote team members in Kaizen events.

Go With Your Gut

I love giving out little trinkets. It’s fun to see people’s reactions to the things I hand out – coins, ninjas, books. This story is about ninjas.

I consider myself a Kaizen Ninja. Many years ago in Japan, Ninjas came out of the shadows to deal with a situation (usually violently), and then return to their home base, unseen. I’m not violent, but when I facilitate, I want the team to solve their problem and own their solution. It can’t be my idea. Don’t get me wrong, with over 350 Kaizen events under my belt over these many years, I have seen so many problem-solving techniques and ideas it’s almost impossible not to have a solution to offer to my team members.

Instead of telling, I influence team members to come up with ideas and solutions that may elude them otherwise. Sometimes, I must be direct, but most times, I can guide them from the side to a solution. Thus, I am a Kaizen Ninja.

I signed up to be a sponsor for the BTOES2021 (Business Transformation and Operational Excellence Summit) conference in Orlando, Florida. As part of my sponsorship, I was scheduled to run several workshops and was given a small booth on the conference floor. I had to decide what to bring with me. I was going to be doing a book signing, so that was an obvious choice – bring a bunch of books. Others had books, so what else could I bring? Working with a local promotional item company, we came up with a ninja stress-reliever. I ordered 200 and planned on bringing all of them to the conference.

Two months later, during a meeting with my marketing mentor, a retired marketing executive with Armstrong World Industries, I reviewed my plans for the conference. After talking about how to maximize the value of my time at the conference, I showed her a ninja. She wasn’t impressed. She told me, “Adam, people don’t really use the swag they pick up at conferences. They take it to be nice, and then they get back to their hotel rooms and throw everything away.” She liked some of my other ideas – sticky notes with ninjas imprinted on them, and my books too.

I was floored. I had just spent hundreds of dollars on my ninjas. I was committed to the idea. I knew she was probably right, but I was determined to make the best of my decision. I decided to go with a ninja theme and see if I could attract attention and make many connections during the conference.

I arrived at the conference and found my booth. There was a lot more space than I realized to place items. After putting books on the table, I started lining up ninjas. Sixty of them were set up like a little army of process improvers. I also had ninja-themed signage for my book signing, workshops, and roundtables I would be hosting.

Once the conference opened, people started milling around the booths. The first few asked me sheepishly about my ninjas and I told them about my talents as a “Kaizen Ninja.” They seemed amused. By the middle of the conference, ninjas were being shared with almost every attendee. They were a hit! I almost ran out. I realized it wasn’t the item attracting people, it was the backstory and the energy I was bringing to it. While most booths were very dry and professional, I was having fun and people seemed to appreciate my approach.

After the conference, with newfound confidence, I started bringing ninjas to all my Kaizen events. I would make team members earn them. By the end of the week, every team member had received at least one. Walking around offices, I found about half of all ninjas given out were displayed on desks. This continues to validate my choice of giveaways.

I reviewed the “ninja-effect” with my marketing mentor, and she said she was happy to be wrong about my ninjas. I was just happy that my investment didn’t go to waste and that people enjoyed having a “ninja-moment” with me.

Carrying a Heavy Weight on My Shoulders

When you are in the heat of battle, you don’t realize the toll it’s taking on your health. I was the business unit manager for a vinyl flooring operation for Armstrong World Industries for two years. During that time, we were in a continual state of downsizing. This didn’t help the relationship with our union. It seemed like everything we tried to do to improve safety, cost, quality, or customer service was met with resistance.

Because our business was shrinking, we were under constant pressure to reduce costs. It wasn’t unusual for upper management to threaten your job or to be told if you couldn’t get it done, someone else would be happy to take your place.

I decided the best course of action was to open a dialogue with our shop steward, lay out the situation, and work together to make the best decisions for our employees. For the first few months, he spoke with me, but little changed in our relationship. I was as transparent with him as possible, explaining the business environment and the reasons for the changes we were making. He didn’t trust me. Apparently, prior managers had burned him a few times and he wasn’t willing to forgive and forget what had happened.

We got to a point where traditional operating schedules weren’t practical for the amount of production we were required to make. We needed to make sure everyone had equal opportunity to work full-time, but providing a 40-hour workweek required us to rotate some of our established crews and revise our overtime policies.

I knew I couldn’t do this on my own. It was going to be complicated and if anyone made errors in assigning overtime, we’d be open to employee grievances and back pay. We couldn’t afford that. I called a meeting with the shop steward and my staff. I laid out the situation and my desire to be equitable for all remaining employees (we had to lay off some of our employees, which didn’t improve people’s moods).

In the past, when everyone worked a traditional schedule, overtime was offered by seniority. If the most senior employee didn’t want overtime, the next most-senior employee was offered the opportunity. This continued until someone accepted the overtime assignment. In our new schedule, it wasn’t going to be obvious who should be offered the overtime.

The group argued for a while, and I realized it would be too easy to make a mistake offering overtime unless we came up with a set of rules we all agreed to. I said I’d take a crack at it, and we could meet again to review my efforts.

After much deliberation and advice from others, I developed a table showing the various schedules and twelve situations where overtime might be required. The idea was to check each situation in order and once you found the correct situation, it told you how to assign overtime.

It was complicated, but the team only found a few flaws that would leave us open to grievances. Once corrected, everyone agreed that if we followed it, it would be a fair approach to assigning overtime. Besides, it was so complicated most people wouldn’t understand it well enough to file grievances.

Once our shop steward saw I was fully including him in our processes and wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, our relationship changed. Not outwardly to the rest of the employees, as he still had to play the role of “management buster.” But we collaborated often on critical issues.

Five days after I transferred back to a corporate role, I was cutting my lawn. My neighbor came over and stopped me to say, “You look different.” I never realized that all the stress of my job was easily seen by everyone but me.

The Littlest Negotiator

There is always a compromise that can be made. You just must know what you want and figure out how it will benefit both parties. I have been negotiating since as far back as I remember. Sometimes it was bedtime, eating my dinner, or putting off homework to go outside and play. Parents don’t typically cherish those negotiations and kids rarely win (at least I didn’t most of the time).

I started collecting coins and baseball cards when I was three years old. Early on, I was able to convince other collectors (kids) that what I was offering was more enticing (or valuable) for them than what I was asking for in return. I don’t think it was always true, but it seemed to me both sides were getting what they wanted (or at least thought they wanted).

My uncle Morrie ran Zerns Farmers’ Market in eastern Pennsylvania. We used to visit him and my Aunt Adeline on their “gentleman’s farm” every summer. Uncle Morrie was a shrewd businessman, and he loved to tell stories of the amazing deals he made throughout his career. I was intrigued, and by the time I was eight, I was asking him questions that led him to think that there might be a little entrepreneur he could develop.

He was particularly interested in my love of coins. He didn’t think there was money to be made in baseball cards. This was the 1970s, after all. He told me there were three coin dealers at the farmers’ market and suggested I try to get something I wanted from them at a reduced price. “Never pay full price,” he told me.

He took me to the market and walked with me to the first coin dealer. I had ten dollars to spend. Uncle Morrie asked, “Do you see anything you like?” I told him I did, but I couldn’t afford it. It was priced at fifteen dollars. He said to the dealer, “My name is Morris Lipton, and I run this farmers’ market. I’d like to introduce you to my nephew, Adam.”

The coin dealer told me I could have the coin I coveted for ten dollars. I couldn’t believe it – he took five dollars off of the price. On subsequent trips, Uncle Morrie would walk with me to the coin dealers and encourage me to ask for a better price. I didn’t always get my price, but more often than not, I did. This built my confidence, and I learned how to determine a price that suited me, ask respectfully for it, be willing to hear the word “no,” and know when to walk away from a deal that didn’t suit me.

Eventually, I went to the various coin and baseball card dealers without Uncle Morrie by my side. I think some of them recognized me. But others were willing to negotiate with a child who was confident, respectful, and informed.

To this day, I use the same principles in all my dealings with vendors, suppliers, and customers. I understand when somebody wants to negotiate with me on my services as well. These principles have served me well and I believe they can help you too. Be willing to ask. You are more likely to get what you want if you do.

Go to the Source to Get the Correct Information

I was working at the American Olean ceramic tile facility in Olean, New York as the Industrial Engineering manager when we merged with Dal-Tile. I was offered a position as an industrial engineer at the corporate offices in Dallas, Texas. I was very impressed with the manager who I was going to report to, so I took the opportunity and moved my family south.

When I arrived, I learned our mission was to improve factory environmental, health and safety (EHS) compliance across twelve facilities in the United States. Although there was an EHS department, they weren’t hands-on or helpful for the facility managers. My manager and I would function as internal consultants and help improve the approach, relationships, and overall performance.

I had no prior experience in EHS and attended many workshops and training sessions with the EPA,  OSHA, and other agencies. We took tours of every plant and identified areas where we could help. Our focus was on annual safety training and environmental and safety reporting.

Over time, we built strong relationships with plant management at all locations, and they came to trust our work and invited us to help frequently. So much so, I got assigned the submission of the annual environmental reports for all facilities.

There were twelve reports that were all due at the same time. There were different requirements based on the state the facility was located in. Reading through all twelve documents, I noticed many similarities and some critical differences. With one month to go, I created a plan to complete all reports properly and on time. I would be signing each report and would be legally bound for completeness and correctness for the next seven years. I wasn’t willing to take any chances.

The first step I identified was to understand each form. Although I thought I knew what most of the questions meant, I decided it would be better to confirm my interpretations. The best way I knew was to call the state agencies and ask for assistance.

I started making calls, and invariably, was not able to reach a live person most of the time. I left many messages at most agencies. I put a sticky note on each report I had a question on and waited (and waited) for my calls to be returned.

When a call finally came, the first thing I did was ask the person what state they were calling from. Then, I pulled out the report for that state. Looking at the sticky note, I knew what I had to confirm. From there, getting the information was simple. Most state workers were happy to help me fill out their form, beyond my first question(s). They had a vested interest in completeness and accuracy and weren’t used to people asking for help. They were more familiar with fixing problems after it was too late.

I learned that these agencies work for us, the public. But some people don’t see it that way and think they’ll get in trouble for asking questions. I’m convinced it’s the best way to get these critical tasks done and avoid errors. I was able to complete all twelve reports on time, to the best of my ability and knowledge, and sign each document. Many years later, I am confident I provided the proper information to every agency. I also feel better knowing that the seven-year statute of limitations has expired.

Perfection Isn’t Always a Good Idea

In the 1980’s, Thomasville Furniture was the market leader in high-end furniture. They were extremely focused on process improvement in all areas of the business. I worked on a staff of industrial engineers. Each of us supported one or more of the many manufacturing facilities. We were tasked with finding ways to improve safety, quality, productivity, and customer service.

One of my colleagues worked at the plant that made tables and chairs. They took great pride in the finish of their tabletops. To achieve the desired look, many workers used powered sanding and rubbing devices. It was an extremely labor-intensive process. We had many muscle strains as a result from all the hand sanding and rubbing to get the desired look.

We heard about companies using robots to reduce labor intensity and safety risk. It seemed like an opportunity for us. If we could figure out how to get robots to sand and rub each tabletop, we could realize significant labor cost reduction and eliminate one of our top safety risks.

My colleague, Frank, connected with a robot supplier who brought in some of his robots for a 30-day “test drive.” The first few weeks were spent teaching the robots how to find the surface and perimeter of the table, apply the proper pressure, and cover the entire surface of the table consistently.

Eventually, they were able to achieve their objectives. The robot was able to sand and achieve a rubbed finish on the tabletops, without human intervention. The tabletops looked great. We were ready to roll out robots to take over the sanding and rubbing process.

Before fully committing to the robots, they decided to show the results to a focus group, to get their reactions to the results. The feedback was surprising. Initially, the group loved the finish and look of the tables. In fact, they said the finish was better than anything they had ever seen. But, after more review and conversation, there was something that bothered them. A series of questions drew out the issue: the tops were too perfect. There was no variation across the surface. We had lost the “handmade” look and feel of the furniture. Instead, the lack of variation made the tables look mechanically made, plastic, or unreal.

We couldn’t give up the thing that made Thomasville Furniture a market leader. Frank and his team went back to the robot vendor to see if he could program variability into the process. After many attempts, they gave up. The technology at the time wouldn’t allow the robots to randomize the pressures applied across the tabletops.

The team removed the robots and returned to the time-tested approach to hand sand and finish tables. Over time, robot technology improved, but it was never given another chance at Thomasville Furniture. Instead, we worked on ways to simplify and reduce the safety risk of hand finishing tables.

An Unlucky Break

Critical problems seem to happen over a holiday weekend when there is less coverage. For me, Thanksgiving provided many challenges. Early in my career, I had to come into the ceramic tile factory the day after Thanksgiving to supervise a crew trying to clear a jam in the kiln. Many years later, a water main in St. Helens Oregon broke and shut down the ceiling tile plant. Once again, I was the one covering, and had to respond quickly and deal with a near disaster.

I got a call late on Thanksgiving night. The plant had been running very well, and then water stopped flowing. In ceiling tile manufacturing, water is the main ingredient. Ceiling board starts out as 98% water, then as it passes over vacuum and then through a 400-foot dryer, the water is removed. If too much water is removed prior to the dryer, the crew must dump all materials into a pit located prior to the dryer and hope the water comes back on before the pit fills up. It can be messy and difficult to recover from.

The water didn’t come back on. The pit filled up. The crew shut the plant down and was cleaning up a big mess. Some of the material had entered the dryer and they were using 14-foot-long rakes to clear the jammed material out of the dryer.

I arrived at 10 pm and joined the crew. Nobody knew what caused the water to shut off. The EHS (environmental, health, and safety) manager was out of town. I had to figure out who to contact with the city. There was a Rolodex on her desk (I had no access to her computer). In it, I found the number of the city manager. To my surprise, he answered his phone immediately.

He told me the main water line had burst and water had to be shut off for all residences and businesses. He was trying to use back-up systems to get water on for the residents first. I reminded him we employed almost 200 people at our plant and without water we couldn’t operate. I asked him to keep me updated as they brought their back-up water system on line. He said he would and considered us a priority, as we were the number one employer in the area.

I stayed most of the night and helped the crew clean up the mess. We developed a plan for what to do when the water situation was resolved. It wasn’t just the water that we worried about, but also the pressure with which it was delivered. At too high a pressure, it could damage sensitive equipment in our process. I had several calls with the city manager and he assured me he’d let us know when the water was scheduled to be turned back on.

Except he didn’t. All of the sudden, water pressure went up and we thought we were in business again. We started up and began making ceiling board. And then the water was shut off again with no warning. I placed a call and asked the city manager to give us a warning when the next attempt to start the water system would occur. He assured me he would this time. But again, he didn’t. We devised our own plan. We watched our water meters and sent a crew member to monitor the valves in the basement of the process.

For the next 2 days, we played the “start and stop” game with the water. This kept the damage to the process and product at a minimum. In the middle of the third day, the water stayed on, and we could operate as normal.

We learned a valuable lesson about contingency planning: the more you can control in an “uncontrollable” situation, the better.