Sidney Frank: Maverick, Genius, Billionaire

Party dogs, I know you are consumed with the following two questions.

Who can I thank for Jagermeister, the shot heard round the world, every frat brother's aphrodisiac and every coed's knee bender?

At the other, somewhat more sophisticated end of the party scene, who can I thank for Grey Goose Vodka, a sophisticated, cosmopolitan, share-hogging brand that is every marketer's succubus? 

Two extremely different alcoholic beverages and two huge, make that two HUGE successes.  

Sidney Frank, that's who.

Who???

Sidney Frank.  Sidney died a few years ago, but his passing did not go unnoticed.  The story of Sidney Frank and Sidney Frank Importing Company is best told by Forbes Magazine in the obituary that follows.

But first a word from your friendly, home town correspondent.  I knew Sidney Frank, not well, certainly not a bosom buddy.  I did, however, spend two weeks touring Europe with him in 1989. Sidney took ten of us, the nation's top Jagermeister guerrillas, er, I mean, salesmen, to Europe to meet the gnomes who turn 56 herbs, roots, seeds and spices into the magic potion.

I learned a lot in two weeks, sitting with Sidney in the back of the luxury touring coach he hired to move us around Northern Europe and Italy.  Like how to buy a distillery with no money, the origin of the term liquid capital, which Prohibition era gangsters made the smooth transition from the underground pub to the Rotary Club. And more pertinent to that trip, how to silence the storm troopers in your cranium, a gift from the previous evening.

On January 5, 2006 at the age of 87, on his yacht of the California coast, Sidney downed one more shot of Jager, one more glass of champagne, kissed his wife Marian goodbye and set sail for parts unknown.  This is how Forbes.com covered his passing.

Business
Billionaire Sidney Frank Dies
Matthew Miller, 01.11.06, 5:10 PM ET

Sidney Frank, the maverick booze baron who started the super-premium liquor revolution with Grey Goose vodka, died yesterday in San Diego. He was 86. The cause was heart failure, according to his publicist, Sarah Zeiler. Frank was ranked No. 164 on the Forbes 400 Richest Americans list in October, with a net worth of $1.8 billion.

Throughout his career, Frank was known as a creative and tireless brand builder. After working for Pratt & Whitney during World War II, Frank got his start in the liquor business selling Dewar's White Label and Ancient Age for Schenley Distillers. He made himself famous in late 1970s slinging German liqueur Jägermeister to the college set (See "The Bartender").

When he was 77, Frank created Grey Goose, one of the first "super-premium" vodkas. Billed as "The World's Best Tasting Vodka" and sold for $30 per bottle, the buzz around Grey Goose created new-found interest in vodka among drinkers of all ages and spawned several competitors, including Kettle One and Level.

Rarely seen without a custom-made Davidoff cigar in his mouth, Frank became a billionaire in 2004 when he sold Grey Goose to Bacardi for $2.3 billion--the highest price ever paid for a single liquor brand. Since the sale, Frank had leveraged his success with an ever-growing empire that included a new line of Italian wines, tequilas, energy drinks and luxury-lifestyle magazines. He was preparing to launch his new whiskey, Michael Collins, in March.

"He was my hero," says Michel Roux, who created the famous Absolut vodka bottle ad-campaign. "He was hands down one of the best people in the wine and spirits business and a good friend to almost everyone in the industry."

Sidney Frank was born in Norwich, Conn., in 1919, the son of a poor orchardman. As a kid, he often gazed at the Manhattan skyline while traveling by train to visit a cousin in Brooklyn, dreaming of making it big. In 1937, Frank convinced an admissions officer at Brown University to let him enroll based on his strong handshake. He dropped out after a year because he couldn't afford the tuition but forged some powerful friendships.

His roommate was Edward Sarnoff, son of then-RCA President David Sarnoff. Visits to the Sarnoff's lavish mansion in New York left a lasting impression. "Ed's sheets were so soft," Frank told Forbes in a June 2004 interview. "My mother used to sew flower sacks together to make sheets, so cotton sheets were a real treat. I knew I had to marry a rich girl."

After proposing six times, Frank finally convinced Louise Rosenstiel to marry him in the late 1940s. "Skippy" was the daughter of booze maven Lewis Rosenstiel, owner of Schenley Distillers, then the largest liquor distiller in the country.

Frank, who had been developing an alcohol-based jet fuel for Pratt & Whitney, took a job working for his father-in-law. His first assignment: fix a money-losing scotch outfit the company had recently purchased in England. Frank flew to London and found that the distillery causing problems was operating just two days per week--a practice based on outdated English liquor laws. Frank immediately revved up production.

"Genius is an expression of the obvious," he explained to Forbes. "The guys who sold us the operation were only making a million gallons per week. We made 3.6 million gallons. There was a difference of $10 million per week staring them right in the face. I just did the obvious."

Frank received a hero's welcome when he returned to New York and served as president of Schenley on and off starting in 1960. He struck out on his own years later, selling art before founding Sidney Frank Importing with his brother Eugene in 1972. The duo started supplying Gekkeikan Sake to sushi restaurants. Frank failed to turn a profit the first six years and eventually had to sell a 500-acre beachfront property he owned in Antigua for $500,000 to pay his workers. Today the land is worth more than $1 billion.

Then came Jägermeister. In 1974, Frank stumbled on the obscure German liqueur in a New York bar. Tasting of root beer, black licorice and Vicks Formula 44, older Europeans had been drinking the stuff since 1935 for its medicinal purposes, rather than its strong buzz. At the time, Jägermeister was selling just 600 cases per year in the U.S. Seeing opportunity, Frank flew to Germany to meet then-Jäger Chief Executive Walter Sandvoss and came home with the rights to sell the drink from Maryland to Florida. Other suppliers faltered, and Frank picked up the rest of the country.

In 1986, Frank was struck with another obvious observation: "People love sex." He parlayed the drink's early success in southern college towns with the Jägerettes, a group of scantily clad girls who would flirt with male students and convince them to down shots of Jäger instead of Jack Daniels. Last year, sales grew to 2 million cases per year.

With Jägermeister established, Frank set out to create his fortune in vodka. He was convinced rich folks would pay $15 for a martini or $10 for a cosmopolitan if the drinks were mixed with the world's best vodka. He sent executives to France to create the vodka, because he believed the French create the best in everything. Grey Goose girls were tapped to sell the vodka at high-end lounges and nightclubs. Sales grew exponentially, eventually catching the eye of executives at Bacardi.

Frank spent a lot of time giving his money away after the Grey Goose sale. In addition to gifts to groups like the Robin Hood Foundation and the American Heart Association, he donated $100 million to Brown to create scholarships for students who can't afford the school's $30,000-plus per year tuition.

He also spent a lot of time on the golf course. Though too frail to swing his clubs, Frank was often seen riding in a golf cart in upstate New York leading a team of aspiring pros around the links. In his gruff, gravely voice, Frank would tell his players what clubs to use, where to hit the ball and how to play the angles on the green. In addition to their $50,000 salaries, Frank would pay his pros cash after every hole: $1,000 for a double eagle, $500 for eagle, $100 for birdie--plus $500 to the round's winner.

Frank is survived by his wife, Marian; his children Cathy Halstead and Matthew Frank; his sister Edna Nowitz; five grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. His daughter remains the chairman of Sidney Frank Importing.

One spectacular feature of Sidney's post-Grey Goose generosity not mentioned in the Forbes obituary above was his recognition that none of his success, no matter how brilliant his ideas, would have been possible without his "feet in the street" - his sales and marketing staff. This reporter does not know the size of the bonuses with which Sidney thanked them, but he personally knows several who were able retire both their mortgages and themselves.  Suffice to say, the liquor business is not Wall Street and bonuses such as this are unheard of.

In another more personal arena recognizable to yours truly, Sidney's Vice President and Sales Director, Laz Kaufman, whose strong personality, keen intelligence and sense of flair enabled him to take Sidney's message to both boardroom and bar room, was recently awarded the Bobblesquat Medal with Cigar Cluster by The Institute for Absurdiatrics for most Jagermeister bar promotions attended, a record that will stand until robots take over that job.

Surprisingly the presentation of the Bobblesquat was NOT done posthumously. 

Millions of people across the globe will never know who Sidney Frank was or what he did. But this I do know: If the the world is not a better place now than when Sidney entered it in 1919, the fault does not lie with him.  He was a rare personality who achieved a fullness of humanity seen by few.

Prost, Sidney. 

Sail on.