For more than two decades, I was a salesman in one of the 
toughest arenas anybody could enter.  I was a professional 
fundraiser. Yes, at cocktail parties I heard this hundreds 
of times:  You do what?  The tone implied disbelief, and even 
disapproval.  If I had told people that I rob banks for a 
living, I would have brought more favorable responses, even 
from bankers.

My challenges included representing a college that couldn't meet 
monthly payrolls (not very encouraging to givers) and directing 
a medical center's campaign when the public started asking why 
a patient must pay ten dollars for an aspirin tablet.

At the first fundraising conference I attended, I heard the term 
prospect research.  Eventually, I worked at a university where 
several staff people specialized in gathering volumes of facts 
about alumni, friends, parents and others who might become major 
contributors.

During my first three weeks at that university, I attended 
thirteen hours of computer instruction, so I could access the 
massive data assembled for my prospect list.  Additionally, 
the vice president handed me notebooks, containing hard copy 
documentation for the computerized profiles.
     
So for twenty-three years, when I set an appointment to sell 
participation in a fund drive, I went well prepared. Yet I 
didn't rely on that information alone.

Early in my development career, I learned that the most 
effective discoveries didn't happen on campus.  Frequently, 
what I observed at the prospect's office gave me the starting 
point for conversation.

Without fail, I arrived at appointments early, for at least 
three reasons.  One, I wanted to convey eagerness.  Two, I 
wanted to escape the worry that comes with running late.  
Three, I wanted someone to say that the CEO is in another 
meeting, but I could go into his office to wait.  Fortunately, 
this happened many times.

Notice that I could have spent my waiting time in review--of 
the campaign's needs and the prospect's biography.  Instead, 
I focused on previewing--looking for clues that would enrich 
my understanding of the person and the organization.

I sensed that the symbols displayed on the CEO's walls and 
shelves told me what this person values.  After all, he or 
she placed them there.

Among the objects I saw repeatedly:

- golf and tennis trophies
- travel souvenirs
- family photographs
- civic citations
- a miniature groundbreaking shovel
- an autographed celebrity photo
- favorite books
- diplomas
- a club president's gavel
- an autographed football
- unusual hobby items (jars of hot pepper sauce)


Think about the advantage you have when you get two, three, or 
five minutes to survey the scene.  And you're not prying--because
the person displays these mementos proudly.  Without uttering a 
single word, this manager has declared nonverbally (but very 
loudly): THIS IS WHO I AM!

The executive enters, greets you, and you have a dozen 
possibilities for establishing rapport--and stroking the 
individual's ego.

Pointing to a trophy, you comment: So you're a golfer.  What's 
your favorite course?

Or:  I see you're on the Salvation Army Board.  How's the new 
building campaign going?

Or:  I saw your university diploma.  Been back to campus 
recently?

Immediately, with only two sentences, you have told your 
prospect:

- You're an interesting person.
- I'd like to know more about you.
- I'm impressed with what I've seen.
- I didn't come in here with a rehearsed opening line.
- Pleasure before business
- I'm thinking of you, not myself.


In hundreds of contact situations, no one ever resented my 
reference to the symbols I had seen.  My hosts had given cues, 
and then I had followed them.

On your next sales call, look around you.  What you see will 
say plenty--and give you plenty to say.