From High School Dropout to Industry Lifelong Learner
Common Sense, Perseverance, and the Long Road to Success
When people see where I am today, they often assume the path was neat, intentional, and well planned.
It wasn’t.
I’m a high school dropout.
I repeated sixth grade.
I spent three years in high school — all as a freshman.
That’s not something I lead with, and not because I’m ashamed. It’s because I never want anyone to think quitting is the goal. Education matters. Perseverance matters. Responsibility matters. Those things show up long after school is over.
But failure? Failure isn’t the end. Sometimes it’s the foundation.
A personal keynote delivered at the Society of American Florists, sharing lessons on perseverance, common sense, and building a life and career through opportunity and hard work.
When You Hit Bottom, Everything Builds From There
At some point early on, I realized something important: If this is as bad as it gets, everything from here is up. That mindset stayed with me.
I watched other kids get on buses headed to jobs in New York City. Nobody asked about grades. Nobody asked for transcripts. They asked for bus fare. Money meant freedom, and freedom meant opportunity.
So I asked myself a simple question: How do I make money?
The answer was obvious — sell something.
Learning Retail the Unlikely Way
My father owned a flower shop in the Bronx. Around the Fourth of July, he could get fireworks that weren’t legal in New Jersey. I sold them once, felt the rush, and immediately knew it wasn’t the path to stay on.
But that spark — that excitement of retail — stayed.
So we pivoted. Plants instead of fireworks. Coleus plants, to be exact. We started with nine or ten, sold out, doubled the count, sold out again. Before long, I was hiring my buddies, standing on street corners, selling plants because people thought it was cute.
It wasn’t fancy.
It wasn’t scalable.
But it worked.
Eventually permits and regulations shut it down, but the lesson stuck: people like buying from people.
Work That’s Yours Hits Different
I had jobs that didn’t work out. I cleaned roses in a flower shop where I later learned I wasn’t really employed — my father was paying them to keep me busy. That one stung.
So I got a job at a corner luncheonette. Two dollars an hour. Cash. Early mornings. Hard work.
But it was mine.
To this day, I don’t count dollars. I count success — how good you feel about what you’re doing. If you do something well and take pride in it, the money eventually follows.
Common Sense Is Underrated
School never worked for me because I struggled with process. If I had the right answer but didn’t show the steps, I failed. That never made sense to me.
And honestly? It still doesn’t.
In business, we overcomplicate things all the time. The answer is often right in front of us — sometimes the customer already has it. You just have to ask.
Common sense has carried me through more challenges than any formal credential ever could.
Seeing Opportunity Everywhere
At 14, I sold hot dogs at Giant Stadium so I could watch games and make $40 a night — good money in the 1970s. Later, once I had a driver’s license and access to my dad’s flower van, I noticed people waiting in the cold for a bus into the city. I charged five dollars for a ride.
It worked — briefly.
Then my father taught me about liability in a very… hands-on New Jersey Italian way.
Lesson learned.
Learning a Trade So You’re Never Hungry
After 35 years in the flower industry, my father sold his store and told me something that stuck for life:
“Learn a trade. You’ll never be hungry.”
I listened.
I worked deliveries. I showed up during the blizzard of ’78 when almost no one else did. I learned the industry from the ground up. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was honest.
Florida, Flowers, and Reinvention
Eventually, I followed my parents to Florida. I became a bus driver. I bought my first home. I was happy — genuinely happy — with what I had achieved.
Then we opened a small flower shop on Beneva Road in Sarasota and called it Beneva Flowers.
At first, I worked around my bus schedule. Eventually, the shop needed me full time. That meant giving up the pension, the security, and betting on ourselves.
That bet paid off.
Weenies on Wheels (Yes, Really)
I noticed something missing downtown: affordable lunch for working people. So I opened a gourmet hot dog stand — Weenies on Wheels.
Hot dogs, personality, cleanliness, consistency, and fun.
It worked.
I sold it for $5,000 after building it to roughly $30,000–$35,000 a year in sales — part-time.
And yes, the buyer jokes about paying “an arm and a leg.”
At five grand, he still owes me.
The Real Takeaway
This story isn’t about dropping out of school.
It’s about:
Perseverance
Common sense
Treating people right
Seeing opportunity where others don’t
Building something honest, one step at a time
The floral industry — and small business in general — rewards people who show up, learn, adapt, and care.
I’m grateful for every failure. They taught me more than success ever could.