Hoffman Construction was started by my father Karel Hoffman. He was a master cabinet maker trained by a Viennese master in the city of Prague, Czechoslovakia. He arrived in the United States as refugee in 1949 with $8.00 in his pocket and the conviction he was going to start a custom cabinet shop in his new home town of Cleveland, where relatives who sponsored his immigration him were living.

Reality quickly set in that custom cabinetry and furniture were not sustainable business models in the United States of the late 1940s and early 1950s. He went to work for Babin Window and Sash in their woodshop.

One day he was given a door to cut down from 28" to 26". He cut it, he mortised the joints and carefully reassembled the door and it looked like it had just come from the factory. The foreman, who was also Czech, observed all of this. He said

"Karel, you are a excellent cabinet maker, A true artist. Tell me, how many hours do you have in this door?"

"Seven hours," said my father.

"Karel, how much do we pay you per hour?"

"That door retails for $8.00."

Next time he was given a door, he placed in on the fable saw, cut off the extra, clamped the door and pegged it back together and was finished in 90 minutes. The door still looked fresh from factory.

"Now you are thinking like a real American!" said the foreman.

The point of the story is not to cheapen the product. The essence is that there must be a balance between craftsmanship and the needs of the market. That is why Hoffman Construction has been in existence for over sixty years. It is important to know your skills thoroughly so that you can adapt to the needs of a changing marketplace and successfully fulfill the needs of our clients.

Not surpirsingly, I grew up surrounded by the trades. My ealiest memory is riding in my fathers lap while he operated an old fashioned fork lift. Not OSHA approved, but it was the 1960s. I also remember a man with a horse and wagon removing construction debris from the buildings sites. I asked my father years later if I imagined this or actually saw this. He told me the mans name and where he rented the rig. Finally, I remember climbing into a barrel and sinking up to my ankles into semi hardened concrete in my new saddle shoes. Fortuneately, my parents were very philosophical about this.