I am
really not very good at remembering
significant dates or, in many
instances, numbers in general. I
can remember our family prefers 2%
milk, but I cannot recall how much
I paid last time I purchased it.
(Under $3 I think). I remember I
was born in 1957. That's pretty
easy. I also remember that my wife
and I were married on February 14,
but I have to refer to a tapestry
that hangs in our home which to
remind me what year. The date is
embroidered right on the
decoration.
I know
when my son, Kyle, was 14 I had a
hard time remembering what grade in
school he was in, but I remember he
had an undefeated season 14-0-0
(wins/losses/ties) in community
soccer league. That's about the
time, he sprouted taller than his
mother at 5 feet 11 inches and
wearing 10 1/2 - 11 men's shoe.
There are some numbers that stick
with me and some that I cannot
grasp no matter how hard I try to
hold on to them.
A long
while back now (I cannot remember
the exact date, let's say early
October in 95), a Newsweek
reporter called Atari Corporation.
The publication was keenly aware of
the exciting Holiday Season ahead
and Atari's promising comeback with
the 64-bit Jaguar game system. As a
result of her publication's
interest, she was assigned to
create a timeline... a look into
the past by year at the most
significant milestones in video
game evolution. "I need
specific dates and numbers,"
she said.
Newsweek
is a formidable publication. One
simply doesn't apologize, say that
information is not available and
send them on their way. I was faced
with a problem because Atari had
undergone major changes over almost
a quarter of a century. What had
once been a comprehensive campus of
over fifty buildings littered
amidst the Silicon Valley, was now
one lean, mean, fighting machine
otherwise designated as 1196
Borregas Avenue in Sunnyvale,
California ( plus
a significantly-sized warehouse
about 2 miles away). The persons
responsible for designing and
marketing the most celebrated game
system ever created, the 2600, were
no longer employed by Atari. The
prototypes and engineering
blueprints had been relocated and
the entire staff had only materials
important to focus on the new
Jaguar. All other distractions were
safely boxed and stored in
inaccessible archives.
I have
been an aficionado of Atari
products for many years. I remember
playing pong-like games in the
sporting goods department of
Montgomery Ward in Matteson,
Illinois. I recall the debates
amongst employees as to whether it
belonged in sporting goods, in the
toy department or in the television
and stereo department (This was
long before Electric Avenue).
Someone in charge decided it should
be the sporting goods department
because the games were Tennis,
Hockey and Squash as pong
variations. We were in agreement as
commissioned employees because we
made money selling them and we had
fun playing them to demonstrate the
product.
Later,
I became a salesman (it was still
okay to refer to
"salespeople" as
"salesmen") at the Suburban
Trib
newspapers, I recall the news of
Pizza Time theaters opening in Oak
Brook or Hinsdale or some such
place. The big attraction there
were these life-size, computer
controlled characters that would
sing and tell jokes while the
family played video games or ate
pizza.
I
remember purchasing an Atari 2600
for my parents to replace the
pong-like game they bought years
before on my employee discount plan
at Wards. I remember that a friend
of mine begged me to open the box
and "try it out" before
wrapping it for my family to give
to them for Christmas that year.
I
recall playing arcade games for the
first time. Pinball games like XENON
and video hits like BREAKOUT.
I had first thought that these
games were mindless waste of
quarters, but I later discovered
that there were patterns and
strategies to learn to win these
games. They intrigued me.
In
late 1979, I left the Suburban
Trib on very good terms to take
a new position with the Dallas
Times Herald. I had moved there
for a change of pace and to move
closer to a friend of mine I had
known since high school. John
Faerber was as caught up with video
games as anyone and we often found
we stayed up to wee hours of the
morning playing MS. PAC-MAN
in a local convenience store.
As a
relatively new resident of Dallas,
Texas, I had a lot more time to
myself than I was accustomed to
when I lived in the suburbs of
Chicago. I shopped for a video game
system and settled on the Odyssey
by Magnavox because it featured an
integrated keyboard for a price
comparable to the more popular
Atari VCS. I remember playing K.C.
MUNCHKIN and liking it so much,
that I wrote my very first die-hard
fan letter to Magnavox offering
them "inspiration" for a
sequel. (The letter was never
answered.)
It
didn't take too long to determine
that the Odyssey was a
mistake for me. All the newest
games by so many companies were
produced for the Atari VCS. In
early 1982, I purchased a 2600 and
a couple of cartridges from an
electronics chain and placed the
enormous charges on my Visa credit
card. (I think I'm still paying
that charge off.)
My
attachment to the 2600 became an
addiction and began collecting
compatible cartridges. Today, I own
hundreds of Atari 2600 and Atari
7800 cartridges. I remember the
controversies regarding whether to
tax software since they represented
a "published" product and
I recall arguing with a Walgreen's
store manager that he was illegally
collecting tax on video game
cartridges in his store. They had
bought out a liquidated inventory
and they resold them for fifty
cents each.
My
first position at the Dallas
Times Herald was in the outside
classified advertising sales
department. My immediate superior
was Mr. Joe Moss. My assignment was
to cultivate Co-Op revenues in the
classified sections of the paper.
Co-Op (Co-Operative) advertising
are those ads that retailers place
and are reimbursed in whole or part
by the manufacturers of the
products they advertise. One
strategy I used was to contact
manufacturers that offered Co-Op
programs and arranged ads in
advance for participating retailers
to simply say "yes" to
join in. I found it was a lot
harder to say "yes" if
the advertiser had to do much more
such as layout the ad or file his
Co-Op claim. One company that
offered Co-Op funds was Atari and I
recall creating an Atari section
head in the classified section to
list retailers in the Dallas area
that carried Atari products.
Then,
one day, I was struck by a concept
I could not let pass by. Video
games (especially Atari) were the
biggest phenomenon that ever hit
the entertainment industry since
cinema. It occurred to me that a
video game of a newspaper delivery
boy would take off like wildfire
because it could be sold by
different names in different parts
of the country. For instance, it
could be called the DALLAS
TIMES HERALD in Dallas or
the CHICAGO TRIBUNE in
Chicago. The tie-in marketing
opportunities were enormous.
Instruction manuals could be
printed like little newspapers and
feature real ads of local
retailers. The finished cartridge
would help promote the newspaper
and include the classified phone
numbers on the screen while people
played the game. The cartridge
would be an ideal prize for
contests in shopping malls and as
incentives for delivery boys and
girls. In fact, the promotional
advantages of the concept poured
out from me like water over
Niagara.
Joe
Moss loved the concept. He didn't
personally love video games, but
his kids did and he saw great
potential in my idea. He hinted
that he might be willing to fund
the idea if I located a firm to
develop the software. I approached
Games by Apollo located in
Richardson, Texas, Apollo was one
of many technical companies
emerging in the Dallas area. An
ex-disc jockey who also owned an
educational film company founded
it. Games by Apollo quickly became
known for highly collectable Atari
2600 games such as LOST LUGGAGE,
RACQUETBALL, SKEET SHOOT,
SPACE CAVERNS and SPACECHASE.
Mr. Emmitt Crawford of Apollo
embraced my formal proposal of
Saturday, May 29, 1982.
Regrettably, over the following
weeks of follow-up with Mr.
Crawford, he hinted at the lavish
lifestyles of his superiors and the
serious affects it had on being
able to initiate new projects. Over
the course of the months after,
Games by Apollo fell victim to the
inevitable video game collapse.
Still
inspired by the game's potential, I
located George Goode &
Associates and on Monday, June 28,
1982 I met with Mr. Alan Shannon of
the firm along with Mr. Moss and
presented a comprehensive proposal.
The firm loved the concept and
provided two directions to
consider. The first was direction
to fund the development of a
prototype so there would be
something tangible to sell to
interested newspapers across the
country. The cost to generate the
prototype was estimated to be
$10,000.
A
second proposal the firm offered
was to arrange financial backing
from independent investors who
would fund the project. This,
however, required that I would
abandon the security of my present
job and work on the new project
full time. Joe Moss stated that
there would be no problem to
"rehire" me if the
project didn't go as planned.
The
problem I had with the two options
recommended by George Goode &
Associates were that they
conflicted with my conservative
education and way of thinking. Both
imposed risks I could not
comprehend. I sincerely believe
that if I had the money myself, I
would have invested every penny,
but the concept of risking other
people's money clearly separated me
from the likes of others who made
millions by taking such risks. (On
the other hand, I've never declared
bankruptcy either.)
Once
again faced with having to find a
new direction, I thought I should
investigate the possibility of
creating a prototype myself. So
far, I only had elaborate
typewritten business plans and
drawings of video screens filled in
by colored markers. Taking
advantage of a rebate offer made by
Texas Instruments, I purchased a
TI-99/4A computer (my credit card
was getting heavy by now). Within
weeks, I managed to write a slow,
yet WORKING prototype of the game
in EXTENDED BASIC. Armed with this
prototype, Mr. John Wolf, V.P. of
Retail Sales helped me set up an
appointment with Mr. Tom McCartin,
Publisher of the Dallas Times
Herald. Mr. McCartin did attend and
he brought his son to the meeting.

Tom
McCartin, with the expert advice of
his young son, agreed that a
newspaper delivery game had great
potential. He made two commitments.
One was that I could spend company
time chasing a developer for the
game as long as it did not affect
my job. Secondly, he promised
advertising exposure for the game
once it was ready to go to market.
I remember how these blessings
seemed so promising to me at the
time.
While
the light began to dim and the
market seemed to become flooded
with games, I received a phone call
from Mr. John Gunnoe, V.P. of
Telesys in Freemont, California.
Telesys was known for games titled COCONUTS,
COSMIC CREEPS and FAST
FOOD. Mr. Gunnoe was referred
by my contact at Games by Apollo
and told I had a great concept he
should investigate. On Tuesday,
November 16, 1982, Mr. Gunnoe
visited my modest apartment in
Dallas. He was impressed with my
concept and signed copies of
proposals and for a prototype to
take with him back to Freemont. He
asked if I felt I could develop
software if their firm provided the
development tools. "You bet I
can!," I replied. Actually, I
had no idea.
On
Monday, January 31, 1983, Mr. Jack
R. Woodman, V.P. Marketing wrote to
express his regrets. Telesys was
not going to be able to work with
me on the project. Within months
later, Telesys announced that they
were resigning from the software
development arena and were planning
to focus on consulting only.
There
are times that I reflect on those
days and wipe my brow; relieved
that I narrowly missed the downfall
of the gaming era. There are other
times that I look at the popular
arcade hit PAPERBOY and the
many video game versions by the
same name since that time. I
sometimes wonder where Atari Games
really got the idea for it. I
really don't think it matters much
anymore.
In
1983, Texas Instruments dropped the
price of the TI-99/4A personal
computer and I felt compelled to
take my self-taught programming
skills a step farther. I purchased
a Commodore 64 home computer
and began to experience the sinking
feeling that there is no way I will
catch up with technology. There
were assemblers, disk drives,
diskettes, modems and just too much
to buy. Two of my friends at the
Dallas Times Herald were Mr. Thomas
Rogers and Mr. Steve Maskovich. We
all shared interests in home
computers, but they had developed
an interest and enthusiasm with
Atari 800 computers. Before long,
they convinced me to sell my
Commodore 64 and get an Atari 400,
then later, an Atari 800. Over
time, Tom Rogers and I became good
friends. We were so addicted to our
hobby that we purchased high
powered CB radios equipped with
"added" channels so we
could talk to each other late at
night from the keyboards of our own
systems in our own homes. Tom and I
would later work on amateur
software development projects under
the namesake of Artisan Software.
I had,
by this time, moved to a respected
sales position in the retail sales
department of the Dallas Times
Herald. Ironically, my
assignment became the large
appliance and electronics
categories with expectations that I
would help improve our position in
these areas. The Dallas Morning
News was ahead of us and these
were important categories for the
future. Highland Appliance had
moved in, Videoland was opening new
stores and the overall market for
computers and video entertainment
was exploding.
One of
my accounts was Videoland; a chain
of electronics stores with about a
dozen locations throughout Dallas,
Houston and other selected Texas
cities. After calling on them for
some time, Mr. Trevor Glanger (part
owner of Videoland) made an offer I
could not refuse. Essentially I
would make the same money,
including bonuses, as I did at the Dallas
Times Herald. An advantage was
that I would not have miles racking
up on my car nor would I worry
about exceedingly hard quotas to
match each month. I accepted the
offer and eventually assumed the
role as Advertising Director for
the growing operation.
Then
times began to change. The market
was getting saturated with
camcorders and video recorders.
Every department store carried them
and the demand for specialty
electronics stores was lessening.
Highland Appliance was opening huge
stores and Federated Group, Inc.
(not to be confused with Federated
Department Stores) was moving in.
Federated was based in City of
Commerce, California. They were
known for "Fred Rated"
advertising; a character created by
Shadoe Stevens who would destroy
expensive equipment in television
commercials. This tactic worked
well in Los Angeles and helped
supersize Federated virtually
overnight.
Foreseeing
the impossible price wars against
Federated as well as Highland and
other large chains moving in, the
owners of Videoland agreed to sell
their locations to Federated Group
in December of 1983. This move
enabled Federated to obtain
established sites for store
conversions, but provided a working
base of employees and product lines
such as Mitsubishi. (Mitsubishi is
extremely protective of their line
to maintain profit margins. They
purposely avoided the mass market
so they can make more money while
selling fewer systems. This meant
that only so many franchises were
granted to retailers in each
market. This was the first
opportunity for Federated to enjoy
that purchasing control. Videoland
had the franchise in Texas.
Federated had no rights to the
product line in any market.)
In
November of 1985, I received a
phone call just as I arrived home
from an errand one Saturday
afternoon. It was, Lynn, my high
school sweetheart. She was
responding to my name and number
listed in our ten-year high school
reunion directory and she later
told me she had to work up a lot of
nerve to call. She probably would
not have tried to call again if I
was not home to answer the phone. I
am glad I was home. I asked her if
she was finally ready to be married
and on February 14, 1986 we
exchanged vows in Dallas, Texas
fulfilling the most treasured dream
of my life.
Over
the years, Lynn became an important
moderator for my obsession with
computers, video games and Atari
products. In the summer months of
1986, Lynn "permitted" me
to advance to Atari's 16-bit
computer line, IF I first sold my
8-bit computers. The decision was
tough, but it made sense. Tom
Rogers, my friend who was still
working at the Dallas Times
Herald, and I placed a couple
of ads in the newspaper and we sold
hundreds of accumulated 8-bit items
out of the garage of my small,
zero-lot-line Duncanville home.
There were Rana disk drives and
Microperipheral modems and hundreds
of "blank" disks and
cables and Koala pads. I sold my
Texas Instruments computer at this
time as well as a variety of other
accessories and peripherals I
simply didn't take the time to use
any longer. We also hauled a lot of
items to the monthly swap meet
hosted by the DAL-ACE Users' Group
in the basement of the Infomart
near downtown Dallas. By the end of
July, Tom and I had collected over
$3,000 and we placed our orders for
two 1040ST computers using
"employee" privileges I
established between a local
distributor (Ed Miller &
Associates) and Mr. Ed Cline of
Atari. My shipping order was
generated by Atari and dated August
7, 1986. It itemized two 1024K
Computers priced at $586.50 each
and two 12" RGB monitors
(SC1224) at $277.50 each. Eagerly
awaiting delivery, I purchased my
SF314 disk drive from Federated on
July 26, 1986 for the employee
price of $180. Tom and I also
visited Bookstop in Dallas in
mid-July and we purchased books
about 16-bit computers and about
68000 Motorola-based computers. It
wasn't until June of 1988 that I
would buy my first SM124 monochrome
monitor from Federated. The
employee price I paid was $139.30.
By the
end of the year, 1986 became shaky
on the work front. Federated was
studying Videoland's resources. For
a while, they held on to our
relatively small in-house
advertising facilities. They were
impressed that a staff of three
people and a small vertical camera
could accomplish a good share of
the work. Conversely, they did
similar tasks each week with a
$40,000 horizontal camera and a
staff of over twenty persons. In
fairness, they (Federated) had more
markets, more ads and a bit more
multimedia going on than we (ex-Videoland)
did. Yet, with our limited
resources, we produced radio and
television spots. I appeared on a
special "Federated
edition" of the Texas Hit
Review (a "hip"
music-orientated late night
program). We produced multiple ads,
from double pages to classified
listings, each week. We arranged
spotlights, promotional price tags
and in-store signage, banners, cold
air balloons and sometimes had
enough energy to help sell products
at the stores we spent so much time
advertising.
On two
occasions, I was invited to travel
with Mr. Trevor Glanger to the City
of Commerce-based Federated
headquarters. At some point, I
impressed the people I needed to...
I believe those people were Mr.
Keith Powell, president, and Mr.
Sherman Langer, vice president of
purchasing. They invited me to join
Federated Group in Commerce. But
the intriguing offer came at the
cost of losing my staff. I noted
that no second choice was
paperclipped to that offer.
Once I
infiltrated the Federated work
scene, I found that my role was
very unstable. The highest levels
of management had assigned me to
work for Mr. Joseph Blaustein, a
genuinely qualified man, who
justifiably felt I was pushed upon
him. While the people who imported
me hoped I would inspire a faster
paced department to work more
effectively and responsively, Mr.
Blaustein erected a small cubicle
for me and made it more comfortable
for me to stay in it than work out
of it.
In
short time, Federated found they
were beginning to ache from
accelerated growth. In 1985,
Circuit City was also expanding.
They moved in on Federated markets
and forced Federated to deal with
new and tougher challenges. By the
end of the first quarter ending May
31, 1987, Federated reported a loss
of $895,000 although they reported
a profit of $662,000 just one-year
prior. Federated Group quietly
sought refinancing and new funding,
On August 27, Atari Corp. announced
an agreement to buy the Federated
Group for almost $1 million per
store location or $67.3 million
cash. This equaled $6.25 per share
of Federated Group stock.
I vividly remember the
announcement at an employee product
Expo in Los Angeles on the evening
of Sunday, August 23, 1987. People
knew Federated was in need of help,
but the sudden announcement hit us
by surprise. For me, it was
particularly unique as I remembered
once imagining what life would be
like to own a fully decked out
Atari computer system when my hobby
was just beginning. By this time, I
had "upgraded" to Atari's
16-bit computer line and the vision
I had was that the best thing that
could ever happen to Federated and
me just did.
I
expected fancy ties and suits to
arrive in numbers from Atari's
headquarters in Sunnyvale. A few
did. There was Mr. Michael Katz and
Mr. Sam Tramiel. There was Mr.
Garry Tramiel and a number of
others who ducked in and out that I
couldn't remember. I expected Atari
was about to embark on an intensive
management shakeout, but they
announced that the regime would
remain and it did.
I
lived this time period in slow
motion, but it all seems like a
brief horizontal scan line now. I
remember Federated trying different
things including the adoption of a
new service mark; "Let Us
Entertain You." I remember
that the numbers of dollars being
lost were growing and a panic at
the top led to a swift departure of
virtually all the brass. Lawsuits
soon followed claiming that Atari
was misled about the true value of
the stores. For an operation that
still had 10-pack diskettes priced
over $60 a box while the rest of
the world sold them for closer to
$20, I was tempted to believe their
claim.
A lot
of effort when in to dealing with
the Federated Group. Eventually,
following a parade of potential
presidents, Mr. Garry Tramiel moved
in, rolled up his sleeves and
managed to push losses to the
lowest levels since Atari's
acquisition. He brought with him
Mr. Dennis Hawker and, together, we
saw things beginning to improve.
But
the improvements were not fast
enough. Mr. Ambrose LaRocco was
installed as president. Mr. LaRocco
was known for his unique and
eccentric style of wearing colorful
California shorts and carrying toy
pistols around the building.
Ambrose had much bigger things to
be concerned with, but he did like
what I was doing with WORD QUEST,
a word search program that I had
written for the Atari 16-bit
computers. In an effort to help me
finance the essential equipment to
get the product packaged and
distributed, Ambrose approved a
400-piece, prepaid order for WORD
QUEST in mid-July.
The
$3,400 ($8.50 each accommodation
price) allowed me to purchase a
shrink wrap machine and place
deposits of the printing and disks
to mass produce the new product
under a tradename of Artisan
Software. The
shrink wrap machine was ordered
through the same company Federated
was using to supply the movie
rental and computer departments of
each store; Western Flexible. The
machine was charged to me for
$273.50 that I paid on September
29, 1988. I had arranged package
concepts to be provided by Mr. Eric
Smith, Federated's art director and
the package printing was arranged
through Mr. Glen Dick's personal
company; The House of Craftsmen.
Mr. Dick was Federated Group's stat
camera operator. Artisan Software
was born. Gross sales were $3,534
for the first year. A net profit
was reported at (-1,935).
It was
a matter of a few simple days
before Ambrose addressed a
hard-working crowd that followed a
successful Federated warehouse sale
held the weekend of July 22, 1988.
We were expecting praise for the
efforts of the sale. Mr. LaRocco
offered the expected praise and
announced Federated Corporate
Offices were moving to Sunnyvale (7
driving hours North); closer to Mr.
Jack Tramiel's home-based umbrella.
Various
departments moved at different
stages. Accounting moved first,
later purchasing. In most cases,
the equipment and records were
moved, but the people did not. Most
of the people were unable to
relocate. The offer to help move
employees that wanted to go didn't
get implemented with the same level
of sincerity as openly promised.
Advertising functions continued in
Commerce pursuant to instructions
from Mr. Armand Phillippi as he
traveled between Sunnyvale and City
of Commerce. By October, I became
increasingly concerned that the
offices were being emptied and I
pressed for a decision to move our
department to Sunnyvale.
Eventually,
I was asked to visit Mr. Mel
Stevens in Sunnyvale. Mel had been
with the Tramiels for a long time
and he was trusted by them to
evaluate the value of relocating
the department and me to Sunnyvale.
Mel later told me he was impressed
with our visit and that he
recommended to them that they help
me move. Consequently, I designed a
new darkroom in facilities assigned
to me in Sunnyvale and we relocated
in October of 1988.
Along
with me from Commerce came Mr. Eric
Smith, one of the most talented
artists I have ever met, and Mr.
Doug Brown who had assumed the
ambitious role as our cameraman.
Ms. Bobbie Murray, paste-up and
layout specialist, had been
previously hired from the
Sunnyvale.She was
"commuting" to Commerce
on a weekly basis and she was glad
to be "home" when we
moved. Typesetting was provided by
Atari's established facilities
under Mr. Steven's direction.
Within a few days, we had converted
a small, cramped area to a darkroom
and advertising production facility
and we were once again in
operation. I continued to report to
Mr. Phillippi who later left
Atari/Federated to work for BizMart
(later to be absorbed by Office
Max) in their Dallas-based
corporate offices.
In
April 1989, Artisan Software
participated in it's first users'
trade show. The event was held at
the Disneyland Hotel at the end of
the month. World of Atari was
sponsored by "ST World"
magazine. To lure my participation,
the show promoter promised to delay
billing my charges until during the
show and after I had earned a
minimum of the half-booth charge of
$350. As luck would have it, the
booth co-occupant cancelled and I
had the booth to myself.
Historical
record now reveals that Atari never
managed to make the go of Federated
as Atari had hoped. Once it was
decided to unload Federated, there
were efforts to find possible
buyers such as SILO and Circuit
City. At one point, the existing
management team was rallied to
develop a takeover plan, but
outside funding was never solicited
sufficiently. One day in early 1989
it was reported that Federated
would thenceforward be considered a
"discontinued operation".
Eventually the ads stopped, I
helped to close the stores nearest
to my home in Sockton and Modesto
and we were handed our final
checks.
That
wasn't the way I imagined it would
be. I somehow felt I was destined
for more than that. In the few
months that followed, I organized a
grass roots campaign entitled The
Revolution. I knew that
Federated was a sad end to an
impossible task, but I also knew
that Atari had a terrific product
line in their games and computers.
While I actively sought employment,
I maintained contact with Mr. Jim
Fisher at Atari. I also buried
myself in work to do what I could
to promote Atari products. As
little as it was, I wanted very
much to remain a part of the
industry and feared that my needs
to provide for my family would tear
me away.
The
Revolution was an Atari users'
strategy to help spread news about
the Atari computers. I wrote
significant text and organized
hundreds of dedicated users. My
efforts earned a spotlight story
about me in the December 1990 issue
of START magazine. I also
earned recognition as one of the
"100 Industry Leaders" in
the January 21, 1991 issue of MicroTimes
magazine; just 5 alphabetical
notches ahead of Mr. Sam Tramiel.
Mr.
Jim Fisher would later join
management forces at Software
Toolworks, but having a background
from Pacific Stereo in the Chicago
area, he was brought to Atari in a
last ditch effort to do anything
possible for Federated. I had just
gotten to know Mr. Fisher prior to
the layoff of my department.
During
my brief time away from Atari, Mr.
Fisher was reassigned to launch the
Atari Portfolio handheld computer.
With the benefit of a multi-million
dollar
advertising campaign, Mr. Fisher
launched the Portfolio in September
of 1989. The Portfolio was the
first DOS-oriented handheld machine
on the market. For this reason,
retailers were skeptical so Jim was
compelled to establish an in-house
phone room to accept, process and
support credit card orders for the
Portfolio. The staff consisted of
four people, two technicians, and
one bookkeeper. The pace was
astounding and impossible to keep
up. The phones were always busier
than they could be answered. At an
average of nearly $550 per
transaction, the Portfolio had a
promising future.
The
Portfolio in-house sales staff was
overworked and too often ignored.
Their needs were distinctly
different from those of Ms. Diana
Goralczyk's staff; Atari's internal
customer service department.
Consequently, the staff demands
increased for alternative
supervision. In November 1989, Mr.
Jim Fisher hired me to take over
the supervision of the Portfolio
in-house marketing phone staff. The
position required a crash course of
the Portfolio and DOS-orientated computers
in general. This was a turning
point because it was the first
significant point in my life to
turn away from traditional Atari
computers.
By
1995, the Portfolio was no longer
considered a staple of Atari's
product line. And through the
subsequent months Atari tried
unsuccessfully to introduce various
PC and non-PC computers.
Eventually, the computer side of
the business was swiftly
and unceremoniously discontinued.
I was
proud to have evolved with the
internal changes at Atari and to
have been a part of the new 64-bit
revolution. The Atari Jaguar,
introduced in key U.S. markets, at
the end of 1993 is fast becoming a
landmark on the map of Atari's
future. It represents a quantum
leap in technology and reintroduces
the fun factor Atari had been known
for when Mr. Bushnell was steering
the ship.
The
Jaguar was Atari Corporation's
final hardware after a spending
much of a cash settlement from a
pending suit against Sega and a
mild heart attack suffered by
number one son, Mr. Sam Tramiel.
At
this time, Mr. Ted Hoff, then
President of Atari's North American
operations, launched Atari
Interactive and had plans to
re-establish Atari by
exploiting classic and new game
titles for release on popular
platforms. While a deal was pending
to turn over distribution to
Interplay, Jack Tramiel found
a way to walk away from all the
stress by "merging"
with a hard drive company called
Jugi Tandon Storage (JTS). On
Tuesday, February 13, Atari
Corporation announced intentions to
merge with JTS by granting JTS an
extended bridge loan of $25,000,000
to build their three inch disk
drives. Atari stockholders held 60%
of the outstanding shares of the
merged operations. On Tuesday, July
30, Atari Corporation hosted a
special meeting of stockholders in
the offices of Wilson Sonsini
Goodrich & Rosati, P.C. in Palo
Alto, California. The meeting took
about four to six minutes to
formally vote on the merger between
Atari Corporation and JTS. With an
outcome of approximately 42 million
votes in favor and about 11,000
against, the stockholders ratified
the decision. Trading of ATC shares
are halted at the end of the day.
Upon the conclusion of the meeting,
Mr. Sam Tramiel picked up severance
checks for himself and his
siblings. Mr. Jack Tramiel, former
chief executive officer (CEO) of
Atari Corporation, remained to
assist with a smooth transition
with the handful of Atari personnel
that survive.
I
remained at what was left at Atari
to help liquidate as much of
inventory that we could. I held a
series of outrageous Internet-based
sales and sold computer and game
products around the world. JTS was
willing to hang on to me and I
remain grateful for that, but I was
not very happy working at a hard
drive company. An opportunity came
up to work for Mr. William Rehbock
at Sony Computer Entertainment
America (SCEA) and I took it. It
felt good to have been on top. The
PlayStation game console deservedly
ranked as the number one system in
the world with nearly 50 million
systems world wide by the end of
1998.
In
late 1998, some ambitious middle
management executives at SCEA began
to look around for new
opportunities. Bill Rehbock
had left his VP role at SCEA to
accept a new challenge at VM Labs,
a company founded by Mr. Richard
Miller. VM Labs was working on an
innovative multimedia chip solution
and Bill was asked to help launch
it as an OEM technology. In
November of 1998, Bill asked me to
join him at VM Labs. I had watched
their technology evolve and
successfully align themselves with
the explosive new DVD phenomenon. I
liked the business model and agreed
to accept Bill's offer.
In an
effort to collect material for this
book, I have visited a great number
of bookstores, libraries and used
book retailers.
I have amassed my own rare
collection of resources and have
spoken to a great number of
contemporary Atari-dedicated
personalities. The more I learn,
the more I realize I don't know.
My
goal with this virtual book is to
provide dated frames of reference
to recall the history of the
industry and Atari's role in it.
From video games, film and music to
education, business and research,
Atari products has influenced most
all of us in very direct ways.
Best
Wishes,

Donald
A. Thomas, Jr., Curator
http://www.icwhen.com
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