By Rick Stanton
I started writing this, my very last column, on August 19th knowing that Larry Coffman was not doing well.
I was honored to be one of the first let in on the health issues he was dealing with, and how private he and his family wanted to keep it.
Larry was not into pity parties.
To be honest, I knew something was seriously wrong quite a while before I got a call from his daughter Melissa.
He and I had become confidants years ago, largely because “bullshit” was not a part of our DNA. I was and am grateful for his trust and honesty.
I first met Larry in the mid-’80s, after we won the ERNST Home & Nursery account.
We got a call shortly after and it was the first time I heard the words, “Stanton, Coffman.”
Thirty-five years later, I’ll never hear them again.
I remember his pitch for taking out an ad in the Marketing Atlas.
As time went by I said it would be more beneficial for both of us if we went to the Metropolitan Grill or 13 Coins and drank the cost of the ad.
Like the good salesman he was, he finely wore me down.
I never received one inquiry from any of the ads we ran, but running the business card-sized ad gave us an opportunity to chat and develop the aforementioned trust and honesty.
This was also aided by God-knows how many sessions at the 6th Avenue Motel’s cocktail lounge, typically organized by another marketing icon, Shannon Sweatte.
Various ad people came and went over the years, but Larry, Shannon and me were like a dumbed-down version of the Rat Pack.
To be sure, the conversations included “The Biz” but most of the time it was about baseball, even in December.
The last few years it was about what the hell is happening to our city and advertising.
Some people will write this off as yet another get off my lawn moment.
But as you age and witness what change means is both good and bad.
Our city has lost its soul and clamors for some good change.
Larry said many times, “Where the hell is the leadership in Seattle?” Followed by, “Oh I remember, there isn’t any.”
And as far as the bad stuff lingers, all you have to do is some research about vanishing Seattle.
Old guys don’t like being old guys. It’s hard work and it can make you pretty melancholy.
Larry was mortified that the Original 13 Coins closed.
And he was mortified that he was fearful of coming into Seattle.
That makes two of us.
Larry was an advocate for me and a few others lucky enough to know him.
He was an advocate for our profession and his tireless support of what we all did, he believed in honesty, great work, fairness and doing things the right way.
And now … there’s a hole in our hearts for those of us who got what he stood for.
I’m beyond sad at the loss of our great spokesman.
And just in case you’re listening, “Coffman, Stanton.”
So nicely said.
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