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IN the early eighties, Houston was a booming town.
Immigrants from many Asian countries, especially the
Vietnamese, settled in Houston and other cities of Texas.
Many of these Vietnamese were of Chinese descent. They
were very good business people. They were into all kinds
of business.
Among these businessmen was Mr. Bao's, owner of a
Vietnamese-Chinese supermarket. He sold all kinds of
native Asian goods and foods. Business was so good
customers lined up in his store all the time.
Mr. Bao's was my biggest advertiser. Every time my
wife ran out o money, I ran to Mr. Bao's Chinatown
supermarket to collect some advertisement money. I owed
Mr. Bao's a lot. Until today, even if Mr. Bao's family is
no longer in the grocery business, I always remember and
appreciate the help he extended to my newspaper. His
support helped the paper grow fast.
Meanwhile, we were getting more and more
advertisements from the local businesses because more
Asians were moving into Houston. Many of these new
immigrants were small-business owners. They were into the
restaurant, grocery, real estate and jewelry businesses.
Then there were Asian banks.
Faced with this great opportunity, I decided to
publish something that would complement my newspaper—a
listing or directory of Asian, especially Chinese,
businesses. It was to be called the “Chinese Yellow
Pages.”
The first thing I did was to compile names of
businesses in the area, and then classified them into
various categories. Then we were calling on all of them
for sponsorship.
My editorial room had another job to do. We spent
almost five months collecting and collating all the names
of Asian businesses in the area. Finally, we came out with
the first “Houston Chinese Yellow Pages.” The book had 200
pages. Half of these were advertisements. We published the
“Yellow Pages,” and made a decent profit from it.
With the growing number of advertisers, the Chinese
newspaper was now published weekly. And then we had more
and more advertisers, so we decided to publish twice a
week.
But then I was faced with a big problem. The company
that printed my newspaper did not want to take the
printing job. The owner told me he did not have the time
to print my newspaper.
I was very disappointed. I thought the printer did
not want the job because the order was “small.” I really
felt bad.
When I walked out of the door, I entertained the
idea of setting up my own printing shop. I discussed the
idea with my wife. We were being turned down, so why not
establish our own printing press?
After two months, I tried looking for another
web-press printer. I got the same answer: “We cannot print
according to your schedule.”
One night when I was traveling along Highway 59, I
passed the Houston Post’s big white building. I decided to
stop by to see the huge printing presses that ran the
newspaper. I asked myself, “Why couldn’t own one like
this?”
Why not, I told myself. Someday I’d own one like
this. In the days that followed, I inquired and gathered
some information about web presses.
During that weekend, when I brought my layouts to
the printer, it happened that the press broke down. I
approached a technician who was working on the machine.
His name was Mike. He came from Chicago, where the
machines were made.
I asked him several questions about the web press
machines. He jokingly asked me if I was interested to buy
the press. I simply smiled and said nothing. In my mind, I
knew exactly what I wanted to do. I asked him the phone
number of the printing machine company.
The next day, I called up Goss Press Company of
Chicago. I asked the sales person to send me a packet
about the new press.
The following day, a special delivery mail arrived
at my office. It was a packet containing everything I
needed to know about the web press, including the cost it
took to buy one. I was shocked and a little embarrassed to
find out how much it cost: half a million U.S. dollars!
The amount was simply staggering and out of reach. I
knew then that I could not afford to buy a web press.
Oh, the future seemed so tough and difficult. But I
know I had to put up a fight to get what I wanted. (To
be continued) |