By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
By Eric Nicholson
Clearly, with the Lipscomb family--a family filled with incredible charmers, most particularly "Big Daddy" Al Lipscomb, who is as sweet and nice a person as you'll meet down at Dallas City Hall--it's hard to know just who's spewing how much bullshit at you.
Besides telling me about his prison conversion--"through the grace of God" he did it, he told me--Dudley told me how he and his wife, Lavette, had just closed an extremely successful physical-therapy business in Oak Cliff. "I went out on my own and did it," he told me of the June 1994 start-up of Aggressive Professional Health Services. "I got a site at Polk and Camp Wisdom. I had only a few pieces of equipment and a dream. We made it work."
Pushed a bit further on how he put together the money for such a venture--he had little experience in the physical-therapy field--Dudley admitted to having a little help. "I had investors in it to begin with," he said casually. "Boy, that did real well. They got all their money back the first year. Yeah, they were happy. In fact, they still want to do a clinic over there. I just closed it down in May. I didn't have time for it."
About the only part of that statement that's true is that Dudley was busy in May. With Hoffman gone and Lipscomb Industries a company in name only--even the phones had been shut off long before then--Dudley, as CEO of RLD Chemical Manufacturing Co., was wearing a lot of hats. He was not only learning how to mix chemicals to supply Lipscomb Industries, he had become the point man for all of his father-in-law's contracts.
When Dudley's company, RLD, set out to fill its first big Lipscomb Industries order from the Dallas Independent School District--which had awarded Lipscomb a contract to provide floor cleaning products--the Dudleys recruited every family member and every down-and-outer from the downtown labor pools to chip in and get the product mixed and bottled. (The Dudleys hired a man to supervise the crew, who purports to be a chemist but wouldn't give me his qualifications, though I heard his background is in hair-care products.)
"I had everyone working around the clock, trying to get the order out," Dudley told me. "People slept in trucks, kids slept on the floor out at the plant--'round the clock. We had people from the labor pool come out and work 10 to 12 hours, then bring another shift in. I worked two days straight myself."
Although DISD officials certainly had no way of knowing that Al Lipscomb's son-in-law was using homeless people to make the district's floor wax in used milk tanks, they were able to figure out pretty quickly that the stuff wasn't any good.
Not long after delivery, DISD shot off a letter to Lipscomb, notifying him that 48,720 gallons of disinfectant did not meet specifications and were being summarily rejected by the school district, which wanted all of it picked up immediately. Lipscomb never picked up the disinfectant, and DISD has since canceled the contract for all his products, says DISD attorney Rebecca Zuniga.
Because of DISD's problem, another Lipscomb Industries customer, Dallas County, decided to test the products, too. When the floor wax came up short, the county froze any payments to the company and demanded that Lipscomb fix the problem. "We stopped payment to Lipscomb Industries on all the money we owed him and at one point we were holding more money of his than he had of ours," says Dallas County administrator Allen Clemson.
The problem has since been rectified--but not because the Lipscomb family chemists suddenly learned how to mix janitorial supplies.
Instead, one of Lipscomb Industries' frustrated creditors in the bankruptcy case, Imperial Industries, saw RLD's failure to fill orders properly as Imperial's only chance at recouping some of its money. As a result, Dallas County now gets its floor products directly from Imperial--a Dallas-based company owned by two guys who do actually make chemicals. At the insistence of Imperial, which is not about to be burned twice, Dallas County sends the checks directly to Imperial--though middleman Lipscomb does have to sign off on them--and for the most part, Lipscomb is no longer involved with his customer.
It's unclear what, if anything, RLD Chemical Manufacturing is still producing on behalf of Lipscomb Industries. (Despite the two highfalutin names, RLD and Lipscomb Industries are virtually interchangeable.) Lipscomb doesn't seem to know the status of his other clients, nor the viability of his son-in-law's company.
"I think he's in the process of changing it [the company] over," Lipscomb said, although Lipscomb never exactly explained what he meant by that. The recent indictment has clearly made it even more difficult to do business than it already was. "When this thing hit the paper the other day, it just doesn't look right--even perception will kill you," Lipscomb says.
Lipscomb knows that a twisted perception of his son-in-law rubs off negatively on him, too. "I want to have a meeting with Rod to get some things straight," Lipscomb told me. "I need to find out some things...to find out what direction we will take."