I’ll never forget what my first real boss said to me when I told her I was leaving her marketing communications firm to go work for Chuck Donofrio: “Are you sure you want to go there? They just had major layoffs.” Chuck’s firm, which was then called Richardson, Myers and Donofrio (now Carton Donofrio Partners), had gone through a significant restructuring earlier that year in order to integrate the various departments of the agency – media, creative, production, public relations and even accounting. While she planted a minor seed of doubt in my mind, I had a really strong feeling about the opportunity and about Chuck. My answer to her was a solid, “Yes.”

After the staff meeting where my boss announced my imminent departure, her secretary pulled me aside and quietly said, “I love Chuck. I just went to a baby shower for a friend who works there. He could have talked to anyone in the room. But he chose to spend time with me. A secretary. And we had the most interesting conversation.”

Two weeks later, I started my job at Chuck’s firm and we’ve been having interesting conversations ever since.

I realized early in my time with the company that Chuck was no ordinary CEO. He drove the same car I did (a Honda Civic), carried hiking shoes in his work bag (you never know when you might stumble upon a trail head) and didn’t give a shit about job titles or hierarchy (his words). He approached his role as much a college professor as a chief executive. His vision for our industry was remarkable. Again, he was among the first to embrace integration. It’s industry standard these days, but in 1995 most executives were just talking about it. Some still are. As a PR person, I sat next to a media buyer and was often asked by the creative director to review advertising copy before he presented it to the client. Media buyers wouldn’t even talk to me in my old firm and the creative people made them look congenial.

Shortly after I joined the team, Chuck held a meeting to announce the hire of an interactive guru. He started the meeting by saying, “The Internet will have more of an impact on our industry than anything else in my lifetime. We’re jumping on the wave and we’re riding it hard.” Remember, it was 1995 and RM&D was the only large agency in Baltimore with a website. In fact, my previous employer joked that he wanted to launch a website that said, “Call us if you want me to fly out and tell you why we’re great.” At that moment, I felt like I would follow Chuck into a fire if he told me it was the smart thing to do.

A year or so later, my immediate supervisor decided to leave. I was 26. Chuck called me into his office and said, “Do you think you need a boss?” I’d come to learn Chuck was all about giving opportunities to people who felt ready to take them on. I didn’t want to sound entitled or arrogant so I told him I wanted to take on more responsibility if he was open to it. He immediately said, “Yeah, I don’t think you need a boss either.” After a year of essentially acting as PR director, Chuck made me the firm’s youngest-ever vice president.

The heart-to-heart conversations are too many to recount. Suffice it to say I learned many important life lessons from Chuck over the next few years. He taught me that blurring the line between personal and professional made both more interesting. He taught me that life is about collecting experiences, not things. He taught me that if you’re going to do something, go all the way with it.

In 2000, when I decided to leave RM&D and take a job in New York City, I dreaded telling Chuck. The PR group was thriving in the midst of the dot-com boom. What’s more, he was on his annual two-week vacation in Sanibel Island, Florida. I couldn’t wait, though, until he returned to give notice. I sat on my living room floor and cried my eyes out as I told him my decision over the phone. Chuck took a deep breath and said, “I am looking out at the most serene setting, but I am not feeling peaceful.” Gulp. He continued, “But I did the same thing at your age and my boss tried to stop me. I am not going to do that to you.” Now, for all his wisdom, Chuck is known for speaking his mind and giving in to his immediate reaction. I was floored. Then he said with the greatest confidence, “And you’ll be back in three years anyway.”

Six weeks later, I moved to New York and started my new job. But Chuck and I always stayed in close contact. As the economy began to weaken, some of my new colleagues started to exhibit less than professional behavior in the name of self preservation. I’d had just about enough when I decided to email Chuck and ask for his advice. He told me that he was on vacation in Sanibel Island, but would call me when he could. After we had a laugh about the timing of my SOS call, he listened to what I had to say. I kind of expected him to respond, “Screw that, you need to move on to a company with a better culture.” Instead he told me to stick it out. That I had more to learn. That there was more good than bad. Turned out he was right.

The Sanibel Island talks continued for the next couple of years until 2003 when he said, “I’m coming to New York and I’d like to take you to dinner.” I don’t actually know if he made the trip just for me or if he was already there for another purpose.

After exchanging a few niceties, Chuck looked across the table and said, “It’s time for you to start your own company. I’d give you money, but I don’t think you need it. Go write a manifesto. Don’t let the dust settle.” He explained that he felt I’d accomplished all I could in my job and that he’d like to see me launch a company by the time I turned 35. He felt the mid-thirties were the prime of one’s career and my entrepreneurial window of opportunity. I left my job a couple of weeks later and Rose Communications was born.

Chuck and I immediately established a partnership and we’ve been Carton Donofrio Partners’ public relations capability for the last eight years. Chuck was right, again. Three years after I left, we were back together.

One of the first accounts we collaborated on was the National Association of Realtors. The year after I launched the company, our client held a marketing summit in Santa Fe. When my plane landed, I called Chuck to let him know I was there. He said, “Come to the hotel and meet me in the lobby. I need to show you something.” I figured he wanted to share his presentation with me or maybe new creative he planned to reveal. Chuck led me out to his rental car and said he wanted to take me to see some cave dwellings he had visited the day before. An avid bird watcher, he took his binoculars and we walked along searching for feathered friends. I was reminded on that mini-hike how great it was to work with Chuck.

A few years ago, I noticed Chuck’s demeanor was changing. He didn’t seem as engaged in the business and occasionally brought up things we had already discussed. His healthy skepticism seemed to be turning into pessimism. I chalked it up to his absent-minded professor tendency and thought perhaps he was losing interest in the company his father founded more than 40 years before. I considered that there was a bigger problem at play, but ignorance was bliss. Then I got the call.

The company’s chief operating officer told me Chuck had been diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimer’s disease. They wanted my help communicating the news to employees, clients and the industry. How could someone who cherished all things intellectual lose their ability to retain thoughts and experiences? In their early 50s? What an incredible injustice this was. I waited until we hung up the phone. And I cried. For his loss. And for mine.

I’ve had a few opportunities to talk one-on-one with Chuck since learning of his diagnosis. One time I was so overwhelmed by my emotions that I lost my train of thought. He said, “Oh no, maybe it’s contagious.” He told me he was past the anger and had moved on to acceptance. He was still enjoying the things he loved most about his life: his amazing wife and three daughters, the outdoors and birds. He didn’t talk much about the present, but the past was as sharp as ever for him. In fact, he told me stories about his family I had never heard.

Last month, I had the good fortune of attending a reception where Chuck was honored by the Advertising Agency Federation of Baltimore with a Silver Medal Award for his many contributions to the industry. On the train ride to Baltimore, I was contemplating how aware he would be. I was told his wife and daughter would accept the award on his behalf. Not having seen him for several months, I was prepared for the worst. When I walked in, I heard one of his colleagues lean over to him and say, “Rosemary Ostmann just walked in.” Gulp. He needed to be told who I am. Exactly what I feared. But then his face lit up and he said, “Ro, thanks for coming,” which was followed by a big hug. Exhale.

When I was juggling my schedule in order to attend, one of my colleagues in Baltimore warned me that he wouldn’t remember the event. My going to the ceremony wasn’t about him. It was about me. And I was beyond grateful to get one more night with the Chuck who knows me.

The rest of the evening was filled with familiar faces and funny recollections. When it was time for the award, I was surprised and a little nervous as Chuck stepped up to the microphone. The crowd finally stopped clapping and sat down, and he opened with, “Well, Alzheimer’s sucks.” Classic Chuck.

Chuck’s wife has characterized this period of their lives as “The long goodbye.” While Chuck is very much still on this earth and enjoying his family and his hobbies, I guess it is time to say goodbye to my mentor:

Chuck, you are my own personal Steve Jobs. Much of what I learned from you makes me who I am today – as a business owner and as a person. You never just regurgitated what others in the industry were saying or doing. You had true vision. You took risks others weren’t taking. And I live a better, more interesting life because of it. You’re not perfect. You know that. But as the attendance at last month’s ceremony demonstrated, you’ve touched a lot of people’s lives. I am among many who owe at least part of their success to you. I know you’ve transcended the anger you originally experienced when you were first diagnosed. I’ll try to get beyond my own out of respect for you and your legacy. I will, however, always wonder what else was in that beautiful mind.

The makers of LuciteLux™ acrylic recently hired Rose Communications to promote their Carry Me! handbag design competition and secure a NYC venue for displaying the winners in 2011. Invented 75 years ago, Lucite has long been recognized by designers for its durability and endless design possibilities. In the 1950s, Lucite was the go-to material for handbag and jewelry designers. And today, it’s making quite the resurgence in fashion, interior design and architecture circles. Just last week, we announced Alexis Bittar, the world-renowned jewelry designer famous for incorporating Lucite into his creations, joined the judges’ panel for its design competition.

As part of our assignment, we visited Deco Jewels, a store in Soho owned by one of the leading dealers of vintage Lucite handbags and jewelry, Janice Berkson, who also wrote a book on the subject. Of course, we had to purchase a few items from her collection. Research. That night, our client took us to dinner at the Museum of Arts and Design’s restaurant Robert. Not only is the food phenomenal, but much of the restaurant’s design is centered on Lucite furniture and fixtures. Needless to say, we’re enjoying the work.

Vintage Lucite handbags at Deco Jewels

But the design world is not the only place Lucite’s made a comeback. I represented the brand from 1995 to 2000 while working at Carton Donofrio Partners. It is always an honor to reconnect with former clients, particularly when many of the players haven’t changed, and re-immerse myself in work I truly enjoyed the first time around. Stay tuned for more developments on this exciting project.

HOBOKEN, NEW JERSEY (April 1, 2010) – Rose Communications, an independent, strategic public relations firm, today announced it added Sabre (Stock Symbol: SBR) to its growing client roster. The agency will provide corporate communications counsel to the Tallahassee, Fl.-based printer company.

Rose Communications has a wealth of experience in assisting companies of all sizes through mergers and acquisitions. Its assignment will include community relations, seasonal office décor, PowerPoint best practice instruction, media outreach, employee sensitivity training and branded promotional items.

Sabre made the decision to hire its first agency of record on the heels of its December 2009 acquisition of the only surviving branch of Dunder Mifflin in Scranton, Pa.

“Transitioning from just selling paper to selling both paper and printers requires a truly concerted approach to communication, something Dunder Mifflin clearly wasn’t accustomed to prior to the acquisition,” said Rosemary Ostmann, president and CEO of Rose Communications. “We’ve had our sights set on the Scranton market for years and I am thrilled to finally establish our presence there.”

Among the areas Rose Communications will focus on is Sabre’s first-of-its-kind, state-of-the-art diversity program, which is called, “Print in All Colors.” 

According to Sabre’s Web site, this unique, game-changing initiative “recruits, hires, trains, and promotes without regard to race, skin tone, gender, age, religion…or surgical history.” The recent passage of health care reform presents an opportunity for Sabre to serve as a national model for other companies across all sectors of business.

The woman-owned boutique firm will also manage Sabre’s relationship with spokesperson Christian Slater. In addition to closely overseeing his current appearances in the company’s employee training videos and commercials, Rose Communications will work tirelessly to book interviews with high profile media outlets throughout the Scranton area.

The selection of Rose Communications followed a lengthy request for proposal (RFP) process. “When I saw an RFP come in from an address on Monroe Street in Tallahassee, I knew instantly it was meant to be,” said Ostmann. “We’re on Monroe Street in Hoboken, New Jersey.”

“We’re both excited and nervous about hiring Rose Communications,” said a Sabre employee who refused to be identified for fear of losing her job in the accounting department. “I like the idea of systemizing our company’s communication policy, but I don’t yet understand what this means for the Party Planning Committee, which is doing just fine the way it is.”

About Rose Communications Inc.

Rose Communications Inc., a strategic public relations firm, helps clients uncover and share their stories with key audiences and decision makers. The agency gives clients a voice in the marketplace by engaging trusted industry influencers. From emerging entities to established global brands, the team has experience in consumer and business-to-business categories in a variety of industries, including home products and services, health care, education, financial services, publishing, media, and technology. Rose Communications: Fresh perspective. Authentic approach. Meaningful impact. (And a pretty good sense of humor.)

Rose Communications reached an important milestone earlier this month when we celebrated our five-year anniversary.

At the time of our launch, several people referenced the well-known statistic about new businesses: 40 percent of all companies fail within the first year and, of those that survive, 80 percent will fail within five years. It was always said among words of encouragement, of course, but it is a stark reminder of the challenges of entrepreneurship. From day one, our mantra was good work breeds good work. In other words, if we focused our energy on our clients’ successes, we could build a sustainable business.

I am thrilled and humbled that we’ve made it to this point. The truth is that statistic about surviving the first five years replayed often in my head in the early days. And we are fully aware that even bigger challenges lie ahead as we grow. But, if we stick to our mantra, I think the next five years — and beyond — will be as gratifying as the first. Thank you to the many people who have played and continue to play an active role in our success.