About Mike Schied
At this point, I've come to the conclusion that I am a serial entrepreneur. I'm sure my interest in owning my own business was ingrained in me at a young age.
My grandfather was a cattle rancher in the Sandhills. He and my grandmother enrolled my brother and me during the summers in the “Dean Schied School of Hard Knocks” — an OSHA-approved experience deserving of its own chapter in the book I may one day write.
My uncle, John Pittman, also played a role. John was a mechanic who operated Phillips 66 service stations in Lincoln, Nebraska. The 33rd and Cornhusker location was about a mile from my mom's house, and John hired me to pump gas, repair tires, and do odd jobs around the shop. John also taught me to hate painting — and not just any paint. The bright red and yellow oil-based paint that John insisted his building wear, freshly, was a miserable experience. Just writing this brings back memories of sticky paint everywhere.
Over the years, I watched John acquire properties near 33rd and Cornhusker, build a new service center, add a new-and-used tire retailer, then trailers — and later, commercial rentals on land that had once sat empty.
As a high school student, I let locals know I was “for hire.” For a couple of employers I worked for as a 1099 subcontractor, I structured the arrangement so I could submit the total hours for myself and my crew (my friends). My rate was $5.00 an hour. I hired my crew at $4.00 an hour and kept the extra dollar as their employer. They were doing well — minimum wage then was around $2.35. And I was doing well: with three people plus me, my effective rate approached $8.00 an hour.
That was my first real experience running my own business. From there, I was hooked.