Rudy Javosky was imposing. Tall, silver-haired, broad-shouldered, piercing eyes, he looked like central casting's image of a high-powered executive.
The June headline in The Cincinnati Enquirer, announcing his passing, said simply: “R.V. Javosky Built Stores.” And since he ran the construction activities for Federated Department Stores – one of the country's largest retailers – it would have been natural to assume he was as stern, demanding, humorless, implacable and rigid as that headline seemed to describe. It would also have been wrong.
If you concentrated on the broad, tall physique and tailored suits, you missed the sparkle, the sly dry sense of humor, the ability to giggle. If I learned anything about Rudy Javosky in the time I spent with him, it was his delight in laughing.
“Rudy had the rare ability to be your client, your boss, your mentor, a friend and a guy to hang out with, all at the same time,” says Kevin Roche of RYA Design Consultancy, one of Rudy's closest friends. “He was the most gracious, generous and committed man I have known, as a fellow professional, friend, father and husband. When you spoke to Rudy, he listened and he understood because he cared deeply to learn from and to appreciate everyone he met.”
Of course, I never had to meet his specs, produce the quality he demanded, deliver on schedule or on budget. Success in this business is often the result of pure tenacity, ferocious bargaining, being demanding when necessary, willing to be angry when anger is called for. Rudy Javosky couldn't have become a senior vp at Federated, managing a $700 million capital expenditures budget, by simply being Mr. Nice Guy.
I was blessed, though, to see the Nice Guy side of Rudy, partly because we both worked in Cincinnati and met a few times for lunch. We also met at industry events, at IRDC and StoreXpo, and during three days in Europe last year, when he, Kevin and I spoke before a distinguished group of German retailers, businessmen, politicians and economists.
Colleagues who traveled with him raved about his wide-ranging non-business interests. “The first thing to say about Rudy is that he had a boundless curiosity and passion for life,” Bloomingdale's Jack Hruska recalls. “I loved working with him. I loved it when we went to Los Angeles, touring about 20 stores, but also making time to see the new cathedral, the Gehry-designed Disney Center and the Getty. He always encouraged us to see a bigger perspective and made sure we noticed the details.”
In Germany, there were lunches and dinners together, a tour of the German department store Kaufhof together and, most memorably, stranded for hours in Dusseldorf's airport together waiting for a plane back to the U.S. while snow blanketed much of Europe.
That's when, incongruously – frustrated,impatient, hungry, tired – we laughed. There, at the airport; later, at dinner in Paris; and again, the next morning, on the plane ride back home.
I treasured those moments with him, not because Rudy was the powerful industry figure I barely knew but because he was the genuine, decent human being – gentleman, mentor, opera-lover – I got to know.
“Gentleman.” It's a term of address we use all the time without bothering to reflect much on it – ladiesandgentlemen, arealgentleman, gentlemenstartyourengines.
Webster's puts some historical context behind the term: “…of independent means, does not work, considers manual labor to be beneath him…” By that definition, Rudy Javosky was hardly a gentleman.
But also: “…a polite, gracious or considerate man having high standards of propriety or correct behavior.” That was Rudy Javosky – a gentle man.
And somewhere, I hear him saying, “Oh, come on, Steve! I just built stores!”