Don Richardson: It was Debbie and me—typical husband and wife, very young, working out of the house, really not having a clue. And sometimes, when you begin a business, ignorance is actually a blessing. Honestly, we had no idea what we were getting into. Debbie knows how to drive a forklift, and she did everything. I was just out there trying to sell. And we had people along the way who helped us when we didn't deserve the help. We had a little bit of help with the warehouse and a little bit of help with the inventory. We had a friend in Ontario, California, who supplied us when we were beginning, so we were very thankful for that. So the humble beginning is something that I really treasure and hold on to.

At the same time, it was a real struggle back then. Let's face it: Everyone in business knows that it's not easy. When you get into financial trouble, it's a dark time, and you're fighting and fighting, and you don't realize that it's training for later. It’s training to appreciate when things are good—but it also gives you the grit to fight and to work and to stay true to your word. But man, you've got to fight out of that hole. I think everyone here has been there, but no one talks about it. So I'm very grateful for the way the company is now, and I think it’s pretty amazing. I love it. And it’s all because of this guy across from me and his brother. Absolutely.

Kris Richardson: When I first started working for my dad in the warehouse, I was making maybe $5 an hour. I was 12 or 13. But that was just manual labor—doing everything we could to make a few bucks for the summer. I think the one story I'd like to tell is that my dad was very frugal. Some people might say cheap. I won't say that. But we were importing this feather rock from Mexico, and it was one price to get them already cut down and another price to get them in big boulders. So my dad, to save a few bucks, would buy the big boulders. And we'd be out there with a jackhammer in the 120-degree sun, jackhammering big boulders of feather rock into smaller pieces so we could sell them to customers. And that was one of many stories like that. There's fiberglass in feather rock, so you're all itchy and sweaty. Those weren’t the funnest summers for me.

DR: But that was good training for you. Neither of them ever had a desk job during the summer. Now picture Kris coming back from college—football player, middle linebacker, in his prime. But you can imagine this 20-year-old, all buffed out, and it's 115-degree heat. He takes off his shirt and starts wailing on this feather rock. It was a sight.

KR: Because the actual jackhammer broke, so I had to do it by hand.

DR: Well, yeah, I wasn't going to fix it right away. Not with you around. But that's the true story—that's how you learn. You learn to work hard. There were no easy jobs for this guy.

KR: I didn't really learn the business back then. I was learning how to work hard, which is a good trait, but it was not much about fireplaces at all. It was just manual labor.

DR: That's right. That's a good foundation right there.

DR: Well, it's a process. Debbie and I were very fortunate to have two very capable sons. A lot of people would say, if one son isn't that good and the other one is really good, that's a problem. If both of them are no good, that's a problem. But our problem was that we had two sons who were exceptional. And I'd say this if they weren't here, by the way.

When it came to transferring the reins, it just became apparent at one point that it was time. I'm a little bit older. Technology just blew past me. I don't even know how to spell "Excel spreadsheet." I don't even know what that means. It was past my time. Don’t get me wrong: My experiences were still valuable, and they helped them. But my actual talent on the job had started to fade.

And the trouble with guys like me is that if we're Type-A personalities, we don't want to give it up. A lot of people make that mistake. For some reason, it wasn't that hard for me—because I wasn't giving it up to someone who was less. I was actually letting it go to people who were better. And once that happened, the company grew tremendously. If I had held on to it, the company wouldn’t be anything like it is today. So it was a good decision, right, Kris?

KR: I would add to that. I think the biggest decision you made was in 2009, when I came to you with the idea for Modern Flames. At the time, we were already entering a recession, and we had no idea where things were going to go. But I went to you with a business plan, and the biggest memory I have is that you cashed in your life insurance policy—$254,000—to start the business, which I thought was crazy. It was going all in on some 22-year-old kid who thought he knew what he was doing but really had no idea. And that is the only funding we've ever had in that company. That's the beginning of it. The economy went down for a few years after that, but that was really the foundation. I know you had a vision in your mind when you made that choice, but it probably wasn’t the safest one.

KR: I really thought I knew what I was doing. I had a business plan. I thought it was going to work out. And about a year in, it wasn't working out. We were losing money. And I remember you kept saying, "Hey, we're going to keep this thing going." But my journey was hard. I learned the hard lessons. And then we got through the early days of Modern Flames, and I started to grow it a little bit and got out of the first hump.

But then there was a project we did: the Fusion Fire. I hate saying that name because it was a bad time. It was a steam fireplace we were developing, and it took a year and a half, maybe two years. I thought, This thing's got to fly. And it didn't. I think the moment I finally realized it wasn't going to be a product was when my oldest son—who's eight now, just turned eight last week—was a newborn. We had a trade show in Harrogate in the U.K., and we were showing the Fusion Fire there. It was the first trade show I wasn't going to go to, just to be home with my newborn son. And the steam fireplace we were going to show out there didn't work. So I got a call from Elliot, and he said, “Hey, this isn't working.” So I booked a flight two hours later, hopped on a flight to Europe, and I brought a new boiler over there—because that's how we made the steam.

When I was at that show, I was only there for a day. I walked around, and I realized that we were falling behind. It hit me that this wasn’t going to fly. It wasn’t the future. And that was the reason we shifted eight years ago. It was a show I wasn't going to go to, and it ended up being the reason we made a whole new line of electric fireplaces—and that really made the company what it is now.

KR: Having my dad and my older brother Keith—there have been a lot of times when just having somebody to talk to about what you're going through has been helpful. But I think a lot of it's just understanding that you've got to make a decision, and no one's coming to save you. Somebody told me that one time: “You've got to make this call, and whether it's good or bad, you've got to deal with the consequences.” And that's what you told me.

DR: When you made that decision, I'm glad you brought it up—because you were admitting failure. And none of us here are failure people, or we wouldn't even be here. We're the people who produce and win and do good things. But to admit failure was the right decision. If you hadn't—if you'd said, "No, I'm going to stay with this" because of your ego or whatever—that would have been a horrible decision.

A lot of times, the right decision is the hardest decision. I think we all know that. When you made that decision, it was all on you. You said, “I'm pulling the plug on this thing.” And it was actually a proud moment—not that the failure was proud, but that you had it in you to say, “This isn't going to be a good product, and we need to move on,” even though people might talk about it.

KR: I didn't hear anybody make fun of me. Not to my face, anyway. [Both laugh.]

DR: But seriously, that was a big moment. It was a big decision, and it was all on your shoulders. Those are the decisions along the way that really matter—where you go to school, where you live, who you marry. All these key decisions in your life are so critical, and that was a big one for sure. I really admired it then, and I still admire it now.

KR: That's a hard question, because there's a lot. Even to this day—he just turned 70, I don't know if that's a spoiler alert—but he's in the office six days a week. Saturdays included. Whenever he's in town, he's working every single day. He gets in early in the morning and works until five at night. I took off Saturdays about a year or two ago, but he's still in there every day.

And he's always willing to take risks. I think the hard work and the tolerance for risk are really what's made him successful—and in turn, our family successful. Going back to that initial investment, that was a big risk. Especially at that time. But even now, he's building a new steel fabrication factory down in Arizona—another one of the companies that we don't really talk about. There's just a lot going on, and he's always wanted to keep on growing.

DR: Oh my gosh. Well, I tell you what: They're great leaders, and they're sure of themselves without being arrogant. Our family does not like people who think they're all that. We call it the law of the playground: When you pick teams in elementary school, you know who the best players are. You don't say, “Pick me, pick me.” You go, “No, you're going in the third round. I'm going to pick him, and he's going in the first round.” People know talent. You don't have to show yourself off. And these guys just have talent. Everyone knows.

They also attract younger talent. Younger talent wants to work for talent, and they don't want to work for me—I'm too old. But the group that reports to them is also made up of cool guys. They’re the people you want to hang with. It's hard to explain. But that's the culture they've created, and I'm very proud of it. Hopefully, our reputation reflects that.

KR: Thanks a ton, Tim. We appreciate it.