#stuckeys

One of the joys of getting older is reminiscing about the days of my youth, reeling in the years and relishing all the fond memories. While things probably get distorted just a tad, it’s fun to ponder how much better things were in the good old days. If that isn’t a formula for nostalgia, then I don’t know what is.

I have many recollections of my family either traveling down US 41 from Chicago to Kentucky, my mother’s home state, or down US 66 to points west. Those were great days before the interstate, which, while it beckoned us with unfettered access to high-speed travel, could not have produced a more banal result if the federal government wanted to. Those old roads, even though most were four-lanes by the 60s, still had intersections at-grade and small towns to dissect. This is where life happened, where real people lived.

I miss those days. And real people don’t live by the overpass.

One of my most vivid—and recurring—memories is of when we would pull in to the familiar white building with the pitched blue roof. Stuckey’s was to gas, snacks, and restrooms then as Buc-ee’s is today. Oh, and if you have never experienced a Buc-ee’s, you must. That’s a whole separate blog right there.

The diamond in the rough at Stuckey’s was always their self-branded candies, most notably the pecan log roll. My mother especially loved these. If sin were edible and came wrapped in clear cellophane, this would be it. They’re that good.

Stuckey’s was founded in 1937 by Sylvester Stuckey. It all started as just an innocent pecan stand, but blossomed into a full roadside business. The company grew exponentially, particularly in the 1950s and 1960s, when Americans were taking road trips with great fervor. Stuckey’s peaked in the early-1970s at 368 stores in more than 30 states. They even owned more than 4000 billboards across the nation to promote themselves.

But the seeds of their eventual demise had been planted back in 1964, when they merged with Pet Milk Company, a move designed to provide access to the cash needed to fuel that growth. As in many stories of family businesses sold to large corporations, Stuckey’s lost its sense of direction as just another division under a corporate umbrella. The number of stores started to decline. In 1977, Sylvester passed away, about the same time that Illinois Central Industries bought Pet Milk. They then shuttered scores of Stuckey’s stores, nearly killing the business in the process.

In 1984, Bill Stuckey, son of Sylvester, bought back the company to try to bring about a turnaround, but the company languished for decades until his daughter, Stephanie, bought the company in 2019. By then, Stuckey’s was down to only 13 original locations, and they were licensed entities not owned by the company.

Now this is where it gets good. Stephanie, who is now nearing her 58th birthday, an attorney, and former Georgia legislator, took the pecan—I mean bull—by the horns and decided she would revive the company by focusing on its core strength, candy. In just a few years she has grown the chain to 65 licensed Stuckey’s outlets as well as a couple of hundred other retailers, and…drumroll, please…seen sales grow from $2 million annually to $14 million.

Not bad for such a short time. She did so by buying a couple of pecan companies and doubling down on production of their candies, especially their signature pecan log roll. Today, Stephanie is an icon among businesswomen, and hustles her brand deep in the trenches of retail.

If she sleeps at all, I would be surprised. I follow her on social media, and am amazed at how far and wide she travels to promote the Stuckey’s brand, not to mention appear at a growing list of speaking engagements. The company’s success is the result of her tireless efforts, as well as clear thinking. She’s not in the retail business, even though she works it. No, she is in the candy business, committed to also being the face of her namesake brand.

And at the core is the fact that inside those cellophane wrappers is a tasty serving of nostalgia. You know, that warm fuzzy feeling you get when your mind goes back to an earlier time and place.

She is quick to boast that her grandfather’s company pre-dated Buc-ee’s, Love’s, Flying J, and all the big modern travel centers. But she is wise not to try to compete with them, because they would crush her. Instead, she wants to sell to them and anyone else along the way. In a recent podcast episode out of Atlanta, Stephanie told her story one more time, and in succinct fashion. It’s a story she loves to tell, and has gotten it down to the point that it could be an elevator speech. I encourage you to give a quick listen.

Meanwhile, when I see those familiar log rolls at retail, I am whisked back to the 60s, when we were taking those family trips. I have also been to four of those original stores, the best of which is no doubt the one in Hattiesburg Mississippi (pictured above), a busy shop and gas station that just so happens to be on my route to Florida.

There is much to be said about figuring out who you really are, your strengths, your limitations. That’s the essence of strategy. But it is sheer genius when you leverage the intangible, in this case nostalgia. You can’t put a price on those feelings, but you can sure see them on the bottom line. And in the smile on Stephanie’s face.

Dr “I’ll Let You Debate How To Say Pecan” Gerlich

Road trip from Georgia to the Rocky Mountains