Building from nothing
I‘ve always liked to build things. When I was seven, I got tired of my father promising to buy me a bike, so I looked around for parts in the Woburn dump on Mishawum Road and used them to build my own bike.
My father never had money anyway. He blew it all on drinking. He worked in the Woburn leather factories, and he was skilled enough to operate every machine, so he was highly paid, $40 a week. That was a lot of money back in 1932. But it was mostly gone by the end of the week, almost every penny sunk into Brogna’s bar on the corner of Nichols and Main Street in Woburn, or the Moose hall on Campbell Street.
We lived in a shack on Chester Avenue in north Woburn — and I mean a shack. The kitchen had no cabinets. The only heat was a kitchen oil stove. We didn’t have a shower or bathtub. My mother would heat water on the stove so my brother and I could wash ourselves with cloths. Actually, not cloths. Rags. The rent was five dollars a week, and part of our duty was feeding the pigs. The pig pen came right up against our shack. The property owner would bring garbage, and we’d have to feed it to the pigs.
My father gave my mother only a few dollars to run the house, so we survived on the small amount of money she made at the Glick Brothers chicken factory in north Woburn. She was one of twenty or thirty women who would stand there and wait for the chickens to come down the line. A machine would take off the big feathers first, and then the women used knives to take off the fine feathers, so the birds were “dressed” for cooking and eating. The pay was ten cents an hour. As soon as I could start working, I gave everything I made to her.
When I was nine, we finally moved up in the world, to a townhouse at 910 Main Street, Woburn. But three months after moving in, I came home from school one day and found my parents arguing. They argued all the time, mostly about his drinking. But this time I saw my father hit my mother. He gave her a backhand across the face. I lunged at him, but I was only nine. He threw me against the wall. My mother yelled, “That’s it! You can hit me but you’re not going to hit the kids!”
My parents divorced. My mother moved into a tiny apartment with my brother and me, at 518 Main Street, Woburn. It had a 10×10 living room. She slept on a cot and my brother and I slept in the bed. My father moved in with his sister in Peabody center. She kept him under control for a few years. But when he moved in with one of his brothers, he fell off the wagon. He practically lived at a bar in Peabody. He wasn’t homeless, but pretty close.
When I was out of high school and living on my own, I’d visit that bar in Peabody to slip $10 to the bartender to make sure my father was eating. One day the bartender said he still had the $10 from my last visit because he hadn’t seen my father in a while. The last place he’d seen him was across the street, near a billboard.
I walked across the street and looked behind that billboard. And there he was, on the ground. I couldn’t wake him up. I called the police. He ended up in the Essex County Sanitorium in Middleton, with tuberculosis. A couple years later, I was planning to pick him up on a Saturday and get him out of there, to live with me in my new apartment. But on Wednesday they called me and said he had passed away. He was 50 years old.
My first job was on Crawford Farm, which is now Beacon Village. I was nine years old, but I was one of the tallest kids. They had me using this push-pull weeder because I was tall enough to use it. I got 90 cents for a 10-hour day. I stayed three weeks. Later on, I moved to Kerrigan Farm for $1.50 a day and stayed there until I was 12.
Then I got a job at a deli called Kenny and McMurray at 489 Main Street in Woburn Center. I cut the cold cuts, stocked the shelves, ran the cash register. I was only 12, but I was six foot four, so I looked old enough to work. After work, I polished cars for Ungerman Motors, before a manager named Steve Lannan bought the place and turned it into Lannan Chevrolet. I also worked at the Woburn YMCA, setting up the bowling pins. I got three and a half cents per string. Of course, it only cost 25 cents per string to bowl.
But all along, I was a builder. In the eighth grade in wood shop, most of the kids were building things like mailboxes. I built a 14-foot boat using a plan from Popular Mechanics magazine. My uncle was carpenter and cabinet-maker. He had a woodworking shop in his house. I visited him a lot, so I learned at a very young age.
Besides math, my grades in school were so-so. I never studied, except one afternoon when my teacher made me stay after school to study for a makeup test. I studied for 10 minutes and got an A. That’s how I discovered that if I concentrated, could absorb and retain a lot of material, especially technical material, after just one quick scan. This would prove very valuable.
Three months after I graduated high school, I got married. My mother had to sign the marriage license for me because I was only 17. A year later, when I was drafted in the Korean War, my wife was pregnant. I applied for a deferment but heard nothing until I was sitting at the draft board at the Towanda Club in Woburn, waiting to get on a train to Boston for my physical. A guy came over to me and said I was deferred. Good news, but on the way home, I realized I’d lost my wallet in the Towanda Club. My wallet had $19, and that’s all there was between me and the world.
I never wanted to work for anyone, only for myself. For a brief time I worked at Raytheon in Waltham as a millwright, basically a jack of all trades. But at the same time, I ran my own tile company. In fact, I ran it until 4 every day, then worked at Raytheon until midnight. I got four hours of sleep at night, but that’s all I needed. My company was called Tilecraft of New England, with three employees. One of my jobs was redoing the floor at the old Burlington Town Hall, the one that came down in 1969.
I was ready for something bigger. I was ready to build a house and sell it. But that meant borrowing money to fund the project, and I was only 20 years old. The first place I tried was Woburn Five Cents Savings Bank. The bankers laughed at me because they knew my father. See, the mayor had a circus cage on wheels, the kind you’d see with animals inside, and he would round up the drunks and parade them through the city. The idea didn’t last long. I’d always heard it was used only once — with my father inside. True or not, everyone had heard that same tale and believed it, so the bankers considered me a bad risk.
I partnered with a cosigner who was a little older than I was, and I found a lender named Sid Rosenthal in Boston. He was willing to finance builders with no track record, or with bad credit. The key was speed. I had to build houses quickly and sell them quickly, to get out of those early loans quickly and establish a track record — and save money on interest. Once I had established a track record, Sid set me up with some banks. He was a lawyer for those banks, so it worked out for everyone.
The first house I built was a cape off Church Lane in Burlington, at 6 Edgemont Avenue. I didn’t do all of the work myself. I farmed out the plumbing, electrical, some of the concrete work. I understood how to do all of those things, but when you’re building as a business, you can do only so much with your hands. You have to rely on your brain to hire the right people.
I sold that house to Burlington math teacher Jim Curtin and his wife Jewel when they had just graduated college. Ted Murray, the developer who owned lots of property in that neighborhood, said houses were selling for $11,000. I sold mine for more because it had extras like hot water heat and a fireplace. “You broke the price barrier, kid.” That’s what Ted told me. He always called me “Kid.” He was impressed that I understood how to finance real estate projects at my age. I understood the math.
For the next several years I built a lot of houses in Billerica, Woburn, Winchester, Lexington. My gradual turnaround from poverty to success came from work, work, work. Finally, I had money to spend. I decided to settle a score with Woburn Five, the bank that dismissed me because of my father. When the bank went public, I started buying up the stock — carefully. If you owned more than four percent, you had to go through a lot of red tape, so I used other people’s names, including my mother’s.
Unfortunately, the bank made some bad moves and went belly-up, so I lost a quarter million dollars and my plan failed. My plan was to buy 10 percent of the stock, a controlling interest in the bank, and force them to put me on the board of directors. Then I’d walk into that lobby and tell those guys, “Hello again. I’m your new boss.” They’re lucky the Feds got to them first.
After years of building houses, it became boring to me. I was 27, and I was ready to construct a commercial building. My first building was 99 Cambridge Street in Burlington, which became the home of Burlington Studios Photography for many years. I had rented space elsewhere in Burlington for my own business, so I knew prices, and demand, were growing.
Commercial buildings offer the big reward of lifelong income instead of just a one-time sale like a house. But they involve big risk, even though it’s calculated risk. You need to be sure there’s a market. Instinct plays a big part. People thought I was stupid when I built Colonial Park Village at 279 Cambridge Street, next to Burlington Medical Center. And I heard the same when I built Hillside Colony Plaza on Cambridge Street, across from the high school field.
Bankers and friends in the business told me there was no market, so those plazas would be empty. But I observed similar developments in similar towns and saw there was a market. Sure enough, every space was filled before it was ready, and both plazas have been very successful, so I proved everyone wrong.
When the Burlington Mall opened, the new Mall Road became a bit of a battleground. It was undeveloped and very desirable. Spaulding & Slye, the company that built New England Executive Park next to the mall, tried to develop the 25-acre triangle across the street, defined by the Mall Road, Lexington Street and South Bedford Street. They were backed by New England Mutual Life, a big name. But the town wasn’t having it. The proposal bombed three times.
I decided to take a big risk. I’d buy the land from Spaulding & Slye and develop it myself. My lending banks thought I was crazy. Spaulding & Slye had big backing. If they couldn’t get an approval, my lenders asked me, “What makes you think you can beat them?” I thought my idea was better:
- Rezone 10 acres on the Mall Road.
- Build a small residential street off Lexington Street.
- Near the bottom of Lexington Street, build a church.
- Add some houses on South Bedford Street.
- Donate some land to the town for conservation.
The town liked my plan, so I built the brick office buildings that now have Charles Schwab, TD Ameritrade, Fidelity Investments and more.
The small residential street is Laurel Hill Lane. The church is Heritage Baptist Church. So I was able to build where a much more powerful company couldn’t build. That’s a good example of how tricky this business can be. It can be funny, too. When I built a self-storage facility in North Andover, the Planning Board forced me to have much more parking than normal. Later on, when I returned with the as-built plan, they asked why the parking lot was so big. I told them they made me do that. They looked at each other and said, “Oh, really? We forgot.”
That was quite a ways back. Now it’s 2020. My business now owns and manages about 3.5 million square feet of space for office, retail, industrial, research and development, and some self-storage facilities. It has properties in Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Hampshire and Rhode Island. My two youngest sons now run the business, and they’ve grown it faster than I did. My longstanding track record proved invaluable in this business.
You could say my sons had a better head start than I did.
— Richard James Kelly
RJ Kelly has no formal college degrees. But remember his ability to quickly absorb technical material? He put it to use by studying condominium law at Harvard Law School and advanced real estate appraisal at Bryant & Stratton College. He holds licenses as an insurance broker, real estate broker, construction supervisor and hoisting engineer. His company is headquartered in Burlington at 55 Cambridge Street.
Richard built the Murray-Kelly wing of the Council on Aging building on Center Street (the original Burlington High School). He and developer Bob Murray from Murray Hills Inc. funded the project and dedicated it to their own mothers.
Here’s a small sampling of RJ Kelly properties, including company headquarters at 55 Cambridge Street, at the base of the Burlington Mall Road:
It’s a good story I remember my dad doing tile with you back in the day !!!!
That’s my Dad…never an obstacle he wouldn’t overcome. It’s a strength he passed on and for that, I’m truly blessed!
Great story… and so many relatable landmarks!!!
Great story, Dick…..I never knew of your beginnings ……it only adds to your successes…..
What a fantastic story…all that you overcame is admirable. You could have been an” angry young man” and remained angry for all that you endured.Instead, you rose above it, you cared about your troubled father, you pursued your goals,and became so successful.What resilience you have, truly.I hope you tell your story to young people,it is inspiring.I also hope you reach out to people to lend some of your wisdom and support.
Hiya Richard, Thanks so much for your story. Ir really is a story of courage and perseverance. I grew up in Burlington, and have passed by (and been inside) many of your buildings. I can identify with making something of nothing too, I got out of High School (barely) and went on to mop floors at a company on Maguire Road in Lexington (Itek, sound familiar?). I went on to be an apprentice optician there, and still work in optics today. I’ve made lenses to spy on Russians, sit on the Moon, sit on Mars, and for several big observatories. I’m still at it.
My father has always told great stories of how you started from nothing. He always brags about your success. I’m glad you guys could always do Buisness together.
Dear Dick, As my Mom GG would say,” Bravo” to a life that has commitment, purpose, and caring. It is an honor to know you and call you a friend. You rose above all the obstacles that some would have used as a reason to do nothing with their life. You are a shining example of perseverance and a gratitude attitude. Love, Barbara and Stan
Congratulations!! You definitely prove the point that hard work will get you somewhere. From the 60’s to the 90’s my husband and I raised our family at the end of Chester Ave.
Wow I loved reading this wonderful story Of your life and of Burlington I wish my father Ted Ferguson was still here so I could’ve share and reminisce this story with him. What a great guy you are!!!
Wonderful story Uncle Dick, never heard of all the beginnings. Do remember dad telling me about the tile co on cambridge st.
Quite a beginning, and you have accomplished so much. Hugs !
Very good true story ,it was sad in the beginning.But showed knowledge and hard work and you can accomplish a lot. I wish my Father inlaw Mr. Charles Thompson who worked for Spaulding and Slye ,putting in the Executive Park on Mall Rd. Burlington mass. Could read this.Iam sure t
both knew each other. Hats off to Mr. Richard Kelly for his acomplishments ,and his Family. Which is a Good Family. I know because Mr. Richard Kelly jr.is my brother in-law.
Thank you for sharing this great story
One business venture you forgot was the discount drug store you opened in Wilmington, you were and are ahead of your time. You have proven that honest hard work pays off. Your two sons have an excellent example and role model to follow. It was an honor to be your neighbor and hear many of the stories printed first hand. My best.
My father Emil Nadolny owner of The Burlington News, ran ads in the paper for R.J. Kelly. Rumor has it that our basement was tiled by him as a trade off. I was to young to remember but that was a story my dad would tell.
I grew up in Burlington and know alot of the people who left comments like the Nadolnys who owned the paper the Fergusons etc. I also remember all these places before they were built. When we moved to Burlington in 1955 I remember the only thing that was in Burlngton Center was an old green Auction House where Almys took over. Also, the fast food place which was like a carhop was called the Flying Saucer where the Sun Luck used to be. I also remember Murrays Real Estate, Dale Pharmacy, Rexall Drug, and IGA. And where the Burlington Mall is was a sand pit and behind it was bogs we used to pick blueberries in a coffee can. And we used ride through the wheat fields in our homemade dune buggy by the Old Nike Site.
It was a wonderful trip down memory lane and a truly inspiring story RJ. Here is a tribute to the old adage that Hard work really does pay off.
Thank you so much for the great story,
My parents bought on Alcine Lane in the very early 1960’s we were one of the first families on the street, I consider myself to be very fortunate to have grown up in these simpler happier times, the memories 😊.
Burlington sure has grown but this small town girl
will always be so grateful to have these memories, when I drive through Burlington now I can still feel the warm happy times that I grew up in.
We grew up in the best of times
Thank you for writing this. It is a great gift to our father and our family. You captured all of the stories we have heard for years in one very meaningful tribute to our father’s story. THANK YOU SO MUCH!
always glad to hear from a f ellow farmhand,who worked the crawford and kerrigan farms………………an inspiring story,congratualtions on a life well lived……………………carl johnson, firstname.lastname@example.org
What a wonderful Story, Eddie and I were enthralled reading it!!!!