When the Elk Call
Some Deals Take Everything You Have Before They Give You Everything You Wanted
Erin had one goal. He wanted to sell his business before he turned 50.
Not to retire and disappear. But to begin transferring the weight over slowly. He wanted to do this on his own terms, while he was still young enough to do the things he loved. Erin is an outdoorsman in the truest sense of the word. The kind of man who could tell you the difference between a bugle and a chuckle in an elk call. Erin had spent the better part of two decades hearing that sound in his head while running a home services company instead of walking through the rolling mountain hills where he belonged.
He had built something genuinely impressive. Twenty years of hard work building a business from one truck to one of the more successful operations in his market. He wasn't selling because he was struggling. He was selling because he understood something a lot of business owners never figure out until it's too late. Time is the one asset you cannot buy back.
When Erin called me he wasn't in a panic. He was measured and clear. He knew what he wanted and he was ready to trust the process. I remember thinking this was exactly the kind of seller a good process is built for.
What I didn't know was how hard the road ahead was going to be.
The First Deal
The market wasn't making things easy. Political uncertainty was creating hesitation among buyers. Interest rates were putting pressure on deal structures and making capital more expensive to raise. And Erin's business, strong as it was, had a concentration in a handful of contractors that gave some buyers pause. None of it was insurmountable but all of it was real, and it meant my initial process was quieter than I had hoped.
We received an offer from a private equity group. I want to be honest about this because I think it matters. We negotiated it as well as we could but neither Erin nor I were ever fully comfortable with it. There were reservations on both sides, small things that didn't quite sit right, questions about their capital position that didn't get answered. But the offer was on the table and we moved forward.
Six months later the buyer came back and told us they hadn't been able to raise the capital. They wanted to extend but we were out. The deal was dead.
It was frustrating. But I told Erin this might be a blessing in disguise. Let's go back to market.
Back to Market
Those six months had allowed Erin's financials to season further and the numbers told an even stronger story than they had the first time around. More importantly the buyer market had shifted. Capital was moving again. Firms that had been sitting on the sidelines were now under pressure to get deals done and Erin's business was exactly the kind of asset they were looking for.
This time the process had an entirely different energy.
We went back out quietly and the response was immediate. Four serious buyers submitted strong letters of intent, the kind of competing interest that gives a seller significant leverage and real options. After introductory calls with each group one buyer stepped back. Erin's contractor concentration was a concern they couldn't get comfortable with and they were honest about it. I respected that. The other three remained fully engaged and we worked through the negotiations carefully.
Erin ultimately decided to move forward with a seasoned platform buyer. A well-capitalized group with multiple locations, an experienced team, and a track record of successful acquisitions in the home services space. From the very first call the fit felt right. Erin liked them. They liked Erin. Every conversation was productive and professional. Due diligence was a breeze. The quality of earnings came back clean. The attorneys began drafting the closing documents and we were inside thirty days of what looked like a smooth, straightforward close.
Everything was lining up. After everything we had been through this deal felt like smooth sailing.
Then my phone rang on a Friday afternoon.
The Call I'll Never Forget
I didn't recognize it for what it was at first. The buyer's voice was strained, and the first thing he said was that he hated making this call. His investment committee had reviewed the deal and didn’t approve it. They were out.
I was driving my son to practice when the call came in. After I hung up I just drove in silence. I couldn't find words for what I was feeling. I kept replaying the weekly transition calls in my head and tried to think of what I missed.
This wasn't a small deal and up to this point it wasn't a deal that had given us any reason to worry. It had sailed through every stage of the process. The buyer and Erin had genuinely connected from the very first conversation. Every call had been great. Every milestone had been met on time. There was no warning, not a single moment where something felt off. I was completely blindsided and I sat with that the entire drive.
For a few moments my mind started making excuses. Why would the buyer’s investment committee only now be reviewing the deal. Why didn’t they involve them earlier on. How can they pull the plug on us after we have attorneys working on the deal. My disappointment was turning to frustration until I caught myself. I knew this wasn’t going to solve anything. I had to call Erin.
He was devastated in the way that men like him absorb difficult news. Quiet. Silent. He paused and just listened. Pretty soon, Erins voice came through the line. “Wow. I don’t know what to say. I feel like I could cry”. I immediately responded with the same. So do I.
The call was heavy. Two deals. Months of due diligence, attorneys, accountants, late calls, and raised hopes. Gone on a Friday afternoon thirty days from closing when everything had finally seemed to be going right. The following week we explored every possible way to bring that buyer back. They wouldn't move. They were done and there was nothing left to say. It left a bad taste for both of us that took some time to shake.
But we didn't burn the bridge. We thanked them, we moved on, and I sat down to figure out what came next.
What Do We Do Now
I gave it a couple days before I called Erin. Not because I didn't know what to say but because I wanted to say it right. We had been through something together that most business relationships never survive and I wasn't going to rush the conversation that came next.
When we finally talked it was quiet between us in a way that felt different from any other call we had shared. The energy that had carried us through months of process, through the first collapse and the relaunch and the four competing offers and the smooth due diligence and the attorneys drafting documents, all of it was just gone. We were both empty.
I told Erin where things stood honestly. We had two options. We could take a step back, let some time pass, and relaunch a full process when he was ready. Nobody would fault him for that. Or we could move more quickly and reach back out to one of the other buyers who had submitted a strong letter of intent in the last round. They had been serious. They had been disappointed when things went another direction. There was a chance, not a guarantee, but a chance, that the door was still open.
I also told him something I meant completely. If he needed to stop I would understand. He had a business to run. He had employees counting on him every single day regardless of what was happening behind the scenes. He had already given more to this process than most sellers ever have to. If he said let's take a break and focus on the business for a year, I would not have pushed back.
Erin was quiet for a moment.
Then he said go ahead. Reach back out. See if there's still something there.
That was it. Just a quiet decision from a man who had decided somewhere in the exhaustion of everything that had happened that he still trusted me to find a way forward. He gave me permission to make that call and I wasn't going to waste it.
The Door That Was Still Open
There had been another buyer in the previous round. A group that had written a strong letter of intent, had been genuinely excited about Erin's business, and had been disappointed when the deal went another direction. I had to call them, explain what had happened, and essentially ask if they were still interested after we had passed on them once already.
That’s not a comfortable call to make. You’re asking someone to come back to a process that has now fallen apart twice, to re-engage on a deal that has cost everyone involved significant time and money, and to trust that this time will be different.
To my surprise and genuine relief, they didn't hesitate.
They told me they had never stopped thinking about Erin's business. They loved the company, respected what he had built, and had been disappointed when things went the other way. They wanted to move forward. Because the quality of earnings work was already complete we were able to streamline the process considerably and the deal moved quickly from there.
This time there was no Friday afternoon call.
It closed.
The Life He Built This For
Erin was never the kind of man who chased appearances. He didn't live beyond his means or measure his success by what he drove or where he vacationed. He was quiet about what he had built the same way he was quiet about most things. Steady. Grounded. A man who showed up every day and did the work without needing anyone to notice. I admire men like that.
But underneath that quietness was a responsibility he carried. He had a family counting on him. Employees who had given him years of their lives. A business that demanded everything he had whether he had the energy or mental bandwidth each day to deliver it.
When the deal closed, the first thing Erin did was take care of his people. Every employee received a bonus, a genuine thank you for the years of work and loyalty that had made the business worth what it was. He didn't have to do that. He chose to. That's who Erin is.
Then he took care of his family. The capital he received at closing secured their future in a way that no amount of continued grinding ever fully could. His retirement isn't a distant plan anymore. It's real and it's done, not at 65 after another decade of hard work and uncertainty. It’s done now while he still has the energy and the years to enjoy it fully. Erin made a choice that most business owners are afraid to make. He chose today. He chose to enjoy the future rather than spend the rest of his prime years working toward one.
Those rolling mountain hills, the cold mornings, the physical demand of chasing elk through rugged terrain, that isn't something a man does as easily at 65 or 70 as he does at 50. Erin knew that. He wasn't willing to trade another year when he could truly live it the way he wants. That clarity, knowing what he wanted and being willing to go get it, is one of the things I respected most about him throughout this entire process.
And because Erin didn't demand to walk away the moment the ink dried, because he was willing to stay involved and share in what came next, he retained an equity position in the business going forward. He is not a former owner watching from the outside. He is a partner with real skin in the game, sharing in the growth and the success of something he helped build without carrying the full weight of it alone. That willingness to stay is also a significant part of why the final number came in as strong as it did. Buyers pay more for businesses when the seller believes in what they built enough to keep a piece of it.
Now when the elk call, Erin goes.
Thank You, Erin
Two deals fell apart. The first one quietly. The second one at the worst possible moment, thirty days from closing after everything had gone right and neither of us saw it coming.
After that Friday afternoon call I was drained in a way I don't experience often in this business. I had put everything into that process. So had Erin. And when it ended without warning, it took something out of both of us that took a while to get back.
Erin could have said enough. He could have told me the process was too painful, too time consuming, too costly to continue. He could have asked for a year away from it and I would have understood. I was exhausted too. I'm not sure I would have pushed back. Instead, without hesitation, Erin said go ahead. Go back to work. See what you come up with.
He trusted me. After everything we had been through together, after two collapsed deals and months of effort and a phone call neither of us ever wanted to receive, he trusted me to keep going. That trust didn't feel like a business arrangement anymore. It felt personal. It felt like a responsibility I wasn't going to let him down on. I rolled up my sleeves and went back to work.
Getting Erin to the finish line is something I’m personally proud of. It’s not because of the size of the deal or the ups and downs, but because of who Erin is and what he deserved. A man who spent years building something special. He’s the kind of person who lives well below his means, and he takes care of his people before he took care of himself. Erin trusted me when he could have packed it up and walked away.
And now on those crisp fall mornings, somewhere out in the rolling hills with the aspens turning gold and the air carrying that first bite of autumn, I picture Erin listening for that distant bugle.
Thank you, Erin.
Jason Hoff is the Founder and Managing Partner of NorthBase.
NorthBase is a Merger & Acquisition firm that specializes in representing home service and contractor business owners across the country, including HVAC, plumbing, pest control, landscaping, garage door, roofing, and general contracting businesses.