The Hotel That Broke My Heart

Fellow stewards,

I did not have the credit limit to afford the hotel we were staying at… 

But I found a way. 

(This was the trip of a lifetime in my early twenties!)

I was juggling two credit cards to bring Chelsea (wife) to this family-owned boutique hotel in Switzerland for our honeymoon.

We grew up near the Blue Ridge mountains. We love climbing: literally and figuratively.

It was magical. A moment we'll treasure forever. Our whole life stretched out ahead of us. Dreams of what we wanted to build together. The family we'd raise. The work we'd do side by side for decades.

We made plans to return to this hotel again and again. To benchmark our growth. Our life together.

Then this happened:

This boutique hotel had a charm that was impossible to manufacture. Special precisely because it wasn't scalable.

I felt genuine sadness seeing this news from thousands of miles away.

If I'm heartbroken as a customer...

I can't imagine the grief of the staff who created the magic at this place. People who lived in the community. Who supported their families there day after day. Who helped build something so meaningful they could call it their life's work.

(This place was that special.)

Some people shrug and say, "Everything ends. All great things come to an end."

I'm an eternal optimist.

I believe those crazy enough to think they can keep the spirit alive will find a way. Belief precedes ability.

Just like it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a community to build and sustain a family business. I'm searching for others who are fanatical enough—optimistic enough—to transcend generations. 

(To build something truly special.)

Time is the greatest filter. Time will tell if Villa Orselina can resurrect its original charm as it "ushers in a new era."

(I have my doubts. It's not staying with the family.)

Family businesses carry this incredible challenge and opportunity: to preserve the spirit while evolving to remain relevant in the marketplace.

It's the companies that transcend decades that truly enrich their communities and the marketplace. (These are the companies that unleash COMPOUNDING.)

When family businesses don't do the hard work of cherishing the spirit, everyone feels it: Customers. Vendors. Employees. The whole community.

It's difficult work. It's the work of a lifetime.

But it's why I'm grateful to learn alongside you. How do we preserve what makes our companies great? How do we do the invisible work—the generational work—that lets something beautiful outlast us?

Tell me: Can you think of a company you loved as a customer that broke your heart when they closed or lost their spirit?

I'd love to hear your story.

Onward,
Matt

P.S. That Swiss hotel taught me that the most precious things in business aren't always the most profitable. Sometimes the magic lives in what can never be scaled.