Sam's voice will still echo at Wal-Mart - Sam M. Walton, Wal-Mart Stores Inc - Editorial

Discount Store News, April 20, 1992 by Tony Lisanti

The echo of Sam Walton's voice leading Wal-Mart associates in his famous cheer will always be heard and cherished throughout the aisles of every Wal-Mart store. "Give me a W," he would yell with that Arkansas twang, usually holding (or waving) a yellow note pad in one hand. "I can't hear ya," he would yell back at his associates, who all admired him for his sincerity, his interest, his knowledge.

This is what Sam enjoyed doing more than anything else: visiting stores, opening stores, leading the Wal-Mart cheer, and talking to his associates.

Whether it was flying from store to store or taking center stage at he Saturday Morning meetings, he reveled in the camaradarie. He loved to tell a story, and he loved to listen to one. Yet her personally shied away from the spotlight, unless it was shining on Wal-Mart.

He would often go to an extreme to make a point as he did Dec. 2, 1989, during a Saturday Morning Meeting at which DSN presented him with the Retailer of the Decade Award. Ironically, the story he told that morning--to a laughing, but intense group of executives--was the beginning of his bout with multiple myeloma, which eventually took his life April 5.

The meeting began with Sam being carrid out moaning and groaning and being dropped at the center of the stage. Sam was moaning about sales during the last week in November and the fact that they weren't too good--or good enough according to Wal-Mart's double digit standards. He challenged his associates, asking for a cure, for a better December and a record holiday season.

Sam was also moaning about an inquiry during a recent quail hunting trip as a result of being locked out of the trailer. He told his associates, "I had to climb through this small window, and my whistle got caught in my chest." It was the pain from this incident that led him to visit his doctor in Houston for a series of tests which resulted in he diagnosis of bone cancer.

From that point on, Sam continued to do what he enjoyed most--visit stores, talk to associates, and take care of business in Bentonville. But he also quietly focused on the future; the future of Wal-Mart, that is.

At the shareholders meeting in June 1990, he dramatically announced a 2 for 1 stock split and predicted that Wal-Mart sales would soar to $100 billion by the end of the decade. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, the stages was being set quietly for the transition to the day when Sam would no longer be active in day-to-day operations.

And that's what Wal-Mart faces. It will never be Wal-Mart without Sam, because Sam will always be there. His spirit, his philosophy, his style will never die. It was never affected by his cancer, nor was his company.

Sam made every employee a part of the company. Sam never lost touch with his employees or his customers. Sam made his actions speak louder than words. Sam never let the entrepreneurial spirit die. Nor will any Wal-Mart associate.

David Glass, the quiet, inspirational leader, and Don Soderquist, the eloquent speaker, student of empowerment, certainly never will. They will continue to lead and motivate a deep and talented roster of vice presidents to achieve Sam's goal.

Furthermore, the influence of the Walton family will always be present. Sam's wife, Helen, is an astute, sensitive and caring woman who will continue to deliver Sam's message. And son Rob, who among Sam's children has the most active role in the company, will, according to one executive, continue to grow and emulate Sam's style within his own personality and character.

Sam will be greatly missed, but his absence will not affect Wal-Mart.

Sam never wanted anybody to make a big fuss. When he learned of his cancer in early 1990, he immediately shared the news with all Wal-Mart associates.

That's the way he was. That's the way he will be remembered. That's the way he wanted it.

But remember to listen for the echo. "Give me a W." Listen.

God bless you, Mr. Sam.