Chapter 7

Third-Generation Candy Maker

NEW BEGINNINGS

Robin Hammond, Tom and June’s daughter, married Emery Dorsey in 1978 and moved to Fort Collins, Colorado, until he graduated from Colorado State University. During the semester breaks, Emery worked at Hammond’s, where his considerable brawn was put to the test moving the sugar and stacking the one-hundred-pound bags. Since each batch of candy requires about twenty pounds of sugar and another fifteen pounds of corn syrup cooked in a thirty-pound copper kettle, strength and agility are positive features. At that time, he had no intention of making candy his life’s work, although his own family had a history of involvement in the food industry. On Emery’s current website for Nostalgic Confections, he refers to the “spirit of the confectionery arts and the unwavering belief in the joy of food,” but it seems that during his first job at Hammond’s, he may have been unaware that he had an inborn attraction to the industry.

After they returned to Denver, Robin worked and went to school while Emery worked in a family business called the Fruit Basket, which his grandfather had started during the 1930s. At about the same time, he also worked part time at Hammond’s through 1984, when he became a full-time employee.

In the summer of 1983, as Emery was deciding on whether to pursue a career with the Fruit Basket or Hammond’s, his brother-in-law Carl III decided to move his wife, Jo Anne, and their two boys back to Denver. Carl III had just completed twelve successful years as a CPA and financial executive. He planned to start a catalogue business featuring several of the more popular Hammond’s Candies items. Within a year, they were back in San Diego, not because they hadn’t received enough orders but because Hammond’s couldn’t make enough candy.

The four-color catalogue Carl III produced was full of mouthwatering photos such as caramel being poured out of a copper kettle onto a bed of pecans, and the elegant cover featured foil-wrapped candies in a Waterford compote. The catalogue was aimed directly at the profitable retail market. Unfortunately, the retail sales from the catalogue were modest; however, the wholesale sales from other retailers who saw the catalogue were substantial.

The largest wholesale order came from Sid’s Market, a precursor to today’s upscale specialty retail markets. Sid’s had been a large Hammond’s customer for about three years and, based on the slick-back catalogue, tripled its order for 1983. Carl III’s venture was going to be a success. However, a fateful call intervened the week after Thanksgiving, when a disastrous fire destroyed the shopping center where Sid’s was located. The customer cancelled its entire order. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise for Hammond’s.

Just three days earlier, Tom had announced to Carl III that he had completed almost all the hard candy assortments with the exception of twenty more batches of canes. His son hadn’t had the heart to tell him that Sid’s order alone would require half again as much production. It was clear that Tom did not have the capacity to meet the demand Carl III’s catalogue had created. But Carl III knew on an emotional level that he couldn’t go to his dad and say it was time to change the business model. That would have entailed mortgaging the factory and maybe Tom’s house. Additionally, it would have required Hammond’s to double its employees. Carl III knew his dad had never borrowed a dime in his life, and Carl III couldn’t ask his dad to risk his life’s work on a roll of the dice.

Tom was always more comfortable as a small businessman, and he preferred to run his company in much the same way as his father had. For example, Hammond’s had never seen any reason to advertise and certainly had never felt the need for a catalogue; they believed they had achieved success because they had never overreached what they could do. Both Tom and his father believed they needed only one place to make and sell their candy. Opening other sites would mean paying rent, and that would lead to borrowing and debt. Such a situation was totally against Carl’s philosophy, and Tom had learned well from him. It was, to some extent, a credo shared by many who had struggled through the Depression years.

It is probable that at times Tom chafed under Carl’s stringent methods but accepted his inability to change; in the same way, Carl III understood that Tom couldn’t grasp the magnitude of his business proposal. But each respected his father too much to quibble, so Carl III and Jo Anne moved back to San Diego, where he successfully resurrected his accounting career. He never regretted his time in Denver, as it gave him the opportunity to work with his father as a colleague instead of just a son.

STILL ANOTHER ERA

Six months after relocating to San Diego, Carl III got another fateful call, this time from his mother: “Oh, Carl, your dad just had a massive heart attack. He was here eating lunch…he’s gone.”

In a less closely knit family where responsibilities are taken more lightly, the sudden death of the family business leader who has left no succession plan frequently means that the company itself may be breathing its last. However, when June asked Emery Dorsey to step up and take over, he graciously assented. Anyone who knows candy and has had any connection with Hammond’s from that time states unequivocally that Emery saved the business; in fact, they will add that he also raised it to another level.

Emery explains his success in another way, saying:

I didn’t save the business; I just happened to be around when my father-in-law passed away. They had focused much of their attention on training and apprenticeship before he died, but Dad left with a lot of the knowledge he had with him. Dad was great at soft candy and chocolate and was good at hard candy too. Bud DePry, Tommy Williams and Tommy Job helped a lot even though they were retired and had just helped Dad part time. There were friends that also helped. Mom [June] was very supportive. I have to admit that it was a lesson in apprenticeship, self-determination and my inner comprehension and understanding, which Dad used to say was hard to find.

Despite Emery’s protestations, there is general agreement that without Emery, there would be no Hammond’s today.

When Emery began full time at Hammond’s, it was a perfect time for someone aspiring to learn the skills needed in handmade candy production. Master candy maker Bud DePry, veteran caramel expert Tommy Williams and their assistant, Tommy Job, delighted in welcoming a recruit who was genuinely interested in learning their craft. Bud introduced him to the art of making cut rock, the most difficult, intricate and beautiful of all hard candies. (This would be important in the later development of the company.) What young children haven’t thrilled to their first sight and taste of a perfectly shaped round delight centered with a picture of a star, a flower, Santa Claus or a witch? Only the most dexterous of the cut rock makers can aspire to creating an anchor and chain or crossed flags on a pole, but the teachers were there to instruct Emery and to keep their artistry alive.

Williams, the caramel man whom Tom had so generously welcomed back after his unfortunate experience with the other company, and Tommy Job patiently taught Emery what they knew. Job would continue to work there into the 1990s when he himself was over eighty years old. A former salesman, like many men who had lived through the Great Depression, he simply derived great satisfaction from having something that kept him busy and valued. As mentors, they could pass on not only the tips of the trade and the ways to develop his artistic talent but also how to understand when the candy was ready, to get to know by the feel. Seasoned practitioners say no one becomes proficient until he makes one thousand pounds or ten thousand canes. Anxious to learn more about chocolate, Emery had only to look to another candy artist, John Pulsit, for instruction. Commenting on his colleagues, Emery remarks, “Dad hired all retired folks to work for him. Mickey (who started in 1982) and I were the youngest there. It was an older crowd, very interesting.”

Although many of the other workers were considerably older, Tom was chronologically still relatively young, just sixty-three years old, at the time of his death. But his long hours of work every day for so many years had taken their toll, and he looked old beyond his years in the pictures taken for the newspapers in the ’70s. Perhaps, as someone raised with Christian Science beliefs, he had disregarded his aches and pains or overlooked them.

Tom had become a fixture in his community, a man esteemed for his business practices, appreciated for his generosity and valued for his friendship and integrity. There was standing room only at his funeral. “Dad was a good candy maker but a really great person. He would take time to talk to customers, friends in the business—he was truly loved and admired,” his son-in-law, Emery Dorsey, says even now. (See the appendix to read the eulogy given by his son Carl III.)

NATIONAL NEWS

If Tom had found his son and son-in-law’s occasional murmurs about expansion bewildering, he would surely have shaken his head at the changes that occurred in the latter part of the ’80s and into the next decade. Emery had become a brilliant candy maker. Like Carl and Tom, he became proficient with all kinds—chocolates, brittles, caramels and Hammond’s greatest asset, hard candies. It seemed the news was spreading throughout the trade, and before long, Harry and David’s was knocking on their door, anxious to add the ribbon candy to its line of products. That company even designed a special kind of tin so that those most fragile of candies could be safely transported over long distances, thus solving a problem that had plagued Tom years before. It was a boon to the business, but it meant Emery put in grueling hours, an almost superhuman kind of schedule a person might take upon himself but could never ask of an employee. During one year, he was working seven days a week, ten to twelve hours on weekdays and giving himself a bit of a break on the weekends, when he cut his day by a couple of hours. He admits today, “I believe that the time on the hard floor, in front of the heat and the amount of hours aged me a bit. I am glad I was a big, strong person.” He was also smart, hiring a marketer and prevailing upon his mother-in-law for financial as well as moral support when it was necessary. She was thrilled to help and be a part of his achievements.

In 1994, Saveur, an elegant magazine of haute cuisine and glamorous photography, sent a writer and the photographer Dominique Vorillon to Hammond’s to interview Emery and photograph him and June in the kitchens. The November issue featured an article, “Christmas in the Candy Factory,” and life at Hammond’s changed forever. Williams-Sonoma gave its first order of toffee, establishing a tie that lasted for years, and there were features on PBS and the Food Channel and the chance to participate in a Smithsonian Institution program. The number of full-time employees increased, and Emery hired a lot of part-time people from the high schools.

Like his father-in-law, Emery inspired loyalty and the ability to develop relationships within the staff. “I do miss the fact that we all considered ourselves family. It was an indescribable experience,” he still remembers after all these years. But it is another statement that shows he still reflected Carl Sr.’s ideas: “From a personal perspective, what gives me the most joy and pride is the ability to maintain the traditions that have become part of the fabric of individuals and families here in Denver and across the country. Being part of the experience is very moving and often humbling, such as watching children whose eyes light up when they get an old-fashioned lollipop or candy cane.”

Emery also understood the elder Hammond’s thinking:

This I know is true. I think as young adults we all have visions and dream of building something big and wonderful. Dad missed that opportunity a bit with his service in World War II. Carl had his opportunity with the Old Dutch Mill off Speer. Carl III had his plans with his move back to Denver and the hopeful expansion. By the time he came back, Dad did not fully realize the amount of work, production and cost that was in Carl III’s vision. It was a bit of a difficult period. I ran my dreams through Hammond’s as well; funny, looking back, I would embrace that small business concept now in a heartbeat.

Describing his short time with Tom, he adds, “It was a great learning environment. Still run much like I envisioned it running in the 1930s and ’40s. I have to admit I fell in love with it, even though it was difficult.”

Much as Emery appreciated the value of all that had been handed down throughout two generations, he also wanted to build on that foundation. For him, that meant adding to the visibility of the company by opening other retail facilities. He achieved that when he contracted with Sandy Gerger at Elitch Gardens to market Hammond’s candies at the ever-popular theme park. His idea that candy and amusement rides were a selling combination proved to be correct, but unfortunately, Elitch’s moved to its present location only three years later. The increase in rents made it unprofitable to continue this venture. Emery also opened a similar operation in the old Tivoli Brewing Company shopping area, but that closed when June sold it at the end of the 1990s.

After Tom’s death, June continued to be a familiar face at North Denver events and enjoyed having her sons accompany her. One afternoon, she and Carl III were at a function run by the Shriners when an old-time acquaintance excused herself, saying, “I’m sorry, I have to leave now. I’m driving up to Estes Park to buy the best toffee I’ve ever tasted.”

“Oh, really?” asked June. “Where do you get it?” Upon hearing the answer, June smiled at her friend and responded, “Well, I’ll be able to save you a four-hour trip. That’s Hammond’s toffee, and you can just go over to 2550 Twenty-ninth Avenue to buy it.” The Hammond family also have a favorite recipe for their own home use.

A HAMMOND FAMILY HOME-STYLE CANDY RECIPE

Carl T. Hammond III Family Collection

Almond Toffee

Tools:

large nonstick sauce pan

wooden spoon or high-temp rubber spatula

metal spatula

cookie pans with edges

thermometer

large coating bowls or surfaces

scale

•   Melt butter and add sugar, salt and lecithin in a large nonstick sauce pan.

•   Cook over medium heat, stir frequently and watch for scorching.

•   Add almonds at 250 degrees, stir constantly at a slow consistent pace (don’t stir fast or sugar and butter will separate).

•   Cook to 300 degrees or until golden in color; don’t overcook.

•   Carefully pour on lightly greased sheet pans with edges to desired thickness.

•   Spread with a knife, spoon or metal spatula (don’t overspread).

•   Thinner toffee will cool quicker, eat better and may not bleed off a lot of butter.

•   Let cool and carefully flip over.

•   Mixture is very hot and can severely burn. BE CAREFUL! If there is a lot of residual butter, blot with paper towel.

•   Allow to completely cool and break into larger pieces.

Chocolate:

•   Melt chocolate of choice in microwave or double boiler. Do not exceed 120 degrees.

•   Dip toffee in chocolate at about 100 degrees.

•   Hand dip, covering all sides of toffee.

•   Set in ground almonds and coat.

•   Place on tray or pan and let dry.

Almonds for topping:

•   It’s OK to use raw or roasted almonds. You can dry roast them in the oven or grease roast on the stove. The simple method is to purchase roasted almonds from the store.

•   Grind to desired texture in a food processor; finely ground almonds mixed with medium-fine coat the toffee better.

•   Almonds should be cool when dipping toffee.

•   Store in an airtight container.

A YOUTHFUL VIEW

Now that she was on her own, June exhibited a flair for managing her own affairs and became more active in the workings of the factory. Carl III attributed her financial sense to lessons she had learned growing up when her family had suffered economic setbacks. Her father, Martin “Doc” Jones, was a contractor who moved his family from Los Angeles to Escalon, California, when he lost everything in the Great Depression. Doc and his wife, Edna, had moved from Joplin, Missouri, to Los Angeles, where he successfully built roads using twenty mule teams. Starting from scratch again in Escalon, he began farming with peaches and pecans while he built barns, along with other construction work, as it came up. His business sense was lacking, though, and when he died sometime in the 1950s, everyone in the town of Escalon owed him money. Carl III thinks that hardened his mother, who determined that would never happen to her, and it gave her the business acumen to successfully support Emery’s ambitions to grow the company.

Unlike Tom, Carl III says June appeared twenty years younger than she actually was. During the 1980s, he went to a brunch with her and ran into friends who hadn’t seen him in a long time. At first not recognizing him, the former neighbor then tactlessly remarked, “You look older than your mother.” Fortunately, Carl III inherited Tom’s sense not to take oneself too seriously, and he simply laughed out loud. When he was serving himself at the buffet table, he heard voices from the kitchen: “I thought that he was her husband, not her son.”

Such mistakes didn’t end there. Several years later, June, then in her eighties, went to California for her brother’s funeral and began bantering with the woman at the hotel desk. “If we don’t like this room, then we’re not going to take it,” she was saying, when the woman playfully interrupted, “Then you and your husband…”

“That’s not my husband, that’s my son,” was June’s pleased retort. She knew she looked youthful, and she had always promoted it. June also started to enjoy cruises, totaling some thirty or forty over the years, all of them free. She had a friend who was a probation officer but also a travel agent in her free time, and she would have last-minute opportunities to take trips. The one stipulation would be that she use two rooms, and knowing that June was both flexible and free, she would invite her. June always said, “yes.”

Carl III said, “I can describe my mom in one sentence. For her sixtieth birthday, she bought herself a 1979 powder blue Corvette.”