Re: [date unknown] - Ivy League Entrepreneur Gets Real-World Advice
Ivy League Entrepreneur
Gets Real-World Advice
By KAREN LUNDEGAARD
From The Wall Street Journal Interactive Edition
Sean Glass is a kid in a hurry. He has lots of ideas for Internet companies he wants to start, but in his mind, so little time.
He thinks he has a solution: drop out of Yale University before he starts his sophomore year this fall.
He compares it to college basketball players quitting school to go professional. Athletes have a short career window, and who knows the lifespan of the Internet craze? "This is really the time to go for it," says the 19-year-old Mr. Glass, who had a 3.75 grade-point average as a freshman.
But his parents, Peter and Sabrina Glass of Chapel Hill, N.C., are less than excited about his plan. They know some of the computer industry's biggest names were college dropouts, including Microsoft Corp. founder Bill Gates, but this is their son. The fear is "he ultimately ends up as a loser for someone who should really end up a winner," says Peter Glass, a professor at nearby Duke University and a practicing anesthesiologist at its affiliated hospital.
For weeks, Sean agonized -- and his parents with him -- over the decision: Should he stay in school or strike out on his own? In the end, it was a 3 1/2-hour lunch with a man he'd never met who helped him decide.
The Glasses always knew their son had great potential and big dreams. At one point they thought he would be a doctor. "He read more medical journals than I did," Dr. Glass says. His mother remembers a first-grade assignment where Sean drew a picture of what he wanted to be when he grew up: a millionaire.
He first seriously talked with his parents about dropping out in June. His parents tried to persuade him to work on his business while still in school, but he insisted he didn't have time for that. He began to realize how precious time is after friend and Yale senior Suzanne Jovin was brutally murdered in December. He said good-bye to her around 9 p.m.; authorities said she was dead an hour later, stabbed 17 times in her back.
Sean came away from her memorial service and other tributes with a sense of what could have been. "She could have done so much," he says. "I've got to do as much as I can as soon as possible. I don't know how much time I have to get the things done that I want to get done."
His parents suggested he get more information before making a decision. If others thought his ideas had merit, his parents would agree to let him try it for a year. They'd even put up the first $75,000. One idea he's anxious to get started on: an online shopping browser he calls Showser that helps consumers comparison shop.
In early July, Sean and his father met with Fred Hutchison, a Raleigh attorney specializing in tech companies who had lectured at an entrepreneurial class Sean is taking this summer. Mr. Hutchison, who has two daughters close to Sean's age, sensed Dr. Glass's concern. He suggested they talk to two entrepreneurs.
The first is John Creamer, co-founder and technology chief of Cary, N.C.-based Emissary.com, which provides personal monitoring and notification services for high-traffic Web sites. Mr. Creamer thinks Showser can work. He also suggests Sean cut in half a 14-page business plan.
Encouraged by Mr. Creamer's response, the following day Sean and his parents make a list of more than 35 friends and family who might want to be investors.
Sean figures if he gets the same reaction from Mr. Hutchison's second reference, Chris Evans, he's set to go. Mr. Evans started his first company with three college buddies when he was 19 and a freshman at North Carolina State University. Last year, when Mr. Evans was 32, he sold his third company for $55 million in a stock deal. The stock has since appreciated to more than $475 million.
Though Mr. Evans has postponed virtually all appointments until after Labor Day, he agrees to a lunch meeting. Mr. Evans says Sean's situation -- 19 and eager to start a company -- "hits fairly close to home." And there's a more profound reason, too. "If you're lucky, there's a select few times in your life where you have the privilege to participate in conversations that radically affect the outcome of someone's life -- much less a stranger's."
Sean drives to lunch with high hopes. "I'd love for him to get involved in some way," he says. "If he says, `Yes, it's a good idea,' that means something."
Mr. Evans begins by asking Sean questions: Why Yale? What was his first computer? (Good school with a good soccer program; a 1985 Compaq.)
Fifteen minutes into the conversation, Mr. Evans moves the meeting to a nearby restaurant. Tucked into a booth, Sean begins to tell Mr. Evans about Showser, which he conceived after scouring the Internet for stereo speakers. Then he launches into his plan, talking quickly in his excitement about potential spinoffs like customer-service software for online retailers.
Mr. Evans asks how committed he is to Showser. Sean says he's so committed that the only way he sees to get it started quickly is to drop out. "Are you working with anyone else?" Mr. Evans asks.
"Right now it's just me."
Mr. Evans changes the line of questions again, asking what a successful company looks like. Sean thinks about it. "Creating a product tons of people use ... and is profitable," he answers.
Mr. Evans says the comparison-shopping browser idea is "catchy. That has promise." He hones in on that. Why aren't current search engines already getting the information for consumers? The top one now only searches 16% of the Web, responds Sean. His would pick up where the others left off by focusing on shopping.
Mr. Evans asks how he will get the service to consumers. Where will he get the visibility? "That's where I need to get help," concedes Sean.
What would his role at the company be? Having to do everything, says Sean. What about when he's built a $5 million to $10 million operation? What will he do better than anyone else at the company?
"I think I'm very good at analyzing different situations," answers Sean.
Mr. Evans doesn't seem satisfied with the response. "You're in charge of tomorrow. Everyone else at the company is in charge of today. ... That's what everyone else is trusting you to do."
Sean says: "That's what I want to do."
Mr. Evans says his plan to quit school for a year seems an odd and short time constraint. Sean admits it's a plan to appease his parents. If he's created something of value, obviously he wouldn't just leave. But for now, limiting it to a year makes it easier to get their support. "I think you're kidding yourself, quite frankly," says Mr. Evans.
And if Showser succeeds, he'll be at the management level for a couple of years. "Do you think you'd come out of that desiring a computer-science degree? ... Even if you go back to Yale it's not like you're going to get on the soccer team; it's not like you'll be able to relate to your classmates.
"It seems to me you know what you want to do. You're just building up the evidence locker for Mom and Dad." And their concerns about not getting a degree won't end, Mr. Evans warns. He forces Sean to zero in on the downsides of leaving Yale. He'll miss the cultural life, the excitement of playing Division I soccer, and a broad liberal-arts education. Most importantly, he adds, he'll forgo the Yale network.
Sean picks up on the networking point. "I wish I was at Stanford," he grumbles, referring to the many ventures coming out of the school in California's Silicon Valley.
Mr. Evans takes the cue. "There's a third option that we haven't really discussed. Can you put this together while you're at Yale?" Referring back to the Web sites, he asks "Are you describing [code] you're not capable of writing?"
"I think, yeah," says Sean. And there aren't any people ready to join your team? No, says Sean. But the computer-science department is more theoretical than practical and there aren't many good programming courses, he gripes.
"You're thinking in terms of classes," says Mr. Evans. "I'm thinking in terms of people."
Mr. Evans asks what the costs are of doing this while at school. Sean says he'd have to give up soccer. "Which you're giving up anyway" by dropping out, notes Mr. Evans. Sean suggests another reason: keeping his grades up while trying to get the business off the ground. "So what" if they fall, says Mr. Evans.
After five Cokes and nearly three hours, Mr. Evans stands up to leave. Back at Mr. Evans's office, Sean thanks the entrepreneur. Mr. Evans also sounds grateful: "I appreciate the opportunity to be part of this momentous decision."
As Sean drives away, he says he's no longer sure what he wants to do. He says Mr. Evans "asked important questions I might not have asked myself." And Mr. Evans's history says a lot. "The fact that he initially developed a company while in school -- I wasn't sure that was something that was possible," Sean says.
He heads to a bookstore and spends $8 on computer magazines. At a coffee shop, he mentally tallies the pros and cons of dropping out. That evening he discusses the meeting with his parents. At the end, he's decided he'll go back.
Later, he makes his first stab at recruiting others, sending an e-mail to nearly 60 Yale computer assistants he works with to gauge interest for a software-development project. One goal, he writes, is to prove Yale computer students "can be just as successful at creating new software and companies as students at Stanford or MIT." He ends with: "GO BULLDOGS!"
He's also decided to start an entrepreneurial club at Yale. Within days, he's e-mailed various deans to find out the process. An assistant dean, Edgar Letriz-Nunez, says the idea "seems wonderful."
His parents say they're relieved. And they aren't surprised it took a stranger to lead their son to a decision they had pushed for all along. "Sean saw him as the authority," says Dr. Glass. Chris Evans "did me a small favor and he did Sean a big favor. And he did it in a way that Sean felt this isn't the end, but maybe the beginning."
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