The Founding of Permaloc
When Permaloc was founded in October 1983, I was a young landscape architect with a vision to create something better than what was available at the time.
Back in the 80s, aluminum landscape edging didn’t exist on a national scale, except for thin, corrugated material that didn’t hold up under the tough conditions of professional landscaping. Between design complexity and the rigors of increasingly demanding maintenance, I knew the industry needed something new. It needed something innovative that truly served the needs of landscape Installation and specifier professionals across the country.
At the time, the only viable options were steel or plastic, but these materials had their downsides. Steel is logistically heavy to distribute, difficult to install and has sharp stake corners that would protrude up over time. Plastic, although more affordable and easier to install, had a weak connection between sections and didn’t have the strength or durability, given the increasing demands of commercial-grade maintenance equipment.
As a young practicing design/build landscape architect, I asked:
“Why hasn’t anyone created a product that addresses these issues — a product that’s easy to install, provides long-lasting aesthetics and is professional-grade? Where is the solution that could change the game by bridging the gap for landscape professionals?”
The landscape company I worked for had a dominant niche in the upscale residential and commercial market. Our clients hired us to provide lasting beauty from our landscape and hardscape designs, and edging was a significant weak link long term. Edges and edging define the creative design intent, and they must stand the test of time.
It was simply frustration that led me to design and patent Permaloc’s first product. I was confident the product design was viable, but I was basically clueless to the difficult economic environment of the 1980s and the seemingly endless struggles that lay ahead.
The Early Struggles
I’ll be honest with you — the first few years peddling an aluminum edging product were tough. I was so passionate about the product that I was practically bleeding aluminum. However, the business side of things was a different beast altogether.
When you’re starting a business with minimal funding, everything feels like a mountain and the only tool you have to climb it is the passion. In the early 80s, interest rates were through the roof. With rates at 20%, every penny counted. It felt like I was running on fumes.
One of the most challenging parts of those early days was gaining financing. I had signed up for several trade shows a year ahead of time, hoping that the exposure and getting in front of landscape architects would grow the business.
However, when the time came for me to attend those shows I excitedly signed up for, I found myself nearly broke. The pressure was mounting, but I knew I had to make it work to get Permaloc’s name out there.
Running on Fumes and Kindness
I remember one specific incident when I was driving back to Michigan from a show in Texas. I signed up for a small Texas Chapter ASLA show in Houston, and I borrowed an old pickup truck to carry 300 pounds of office panels to attach product photos and Permaloc signs, too. I arrived at the small hotel where the event was being held, only to find that the elevator was broken and the exhibit room was located on the third floor
I was exhausted after driving a good portion of the prior night, but in 95-degree heat and humidity, I hauled those three heavy panels up six flights of stairs. The show was a success with the Texas landscape architects warmly welcoming me. I will never forget their kindness in taking the time to learn about my products.
I loaded up the pickup truck afterward and prepared myself for a long cross-country drive back home. I’d been on the road all night — I was exhausted and completely worn out, and I had just enough gas to get me home after filling up in St. Louis. I pulled up to a $2 toll in Missouri and realized I didn’t have enough money. I pulled over before reaching the booth.
I started frantically searching the ashtray, between the seats, under the floor mats and in the cluttered glove box, using a flashlight to find any change I possibly dropped. When arriving at the booth, the toll operator was kind and understanding, telling me to just mail the $2 when I could.
I was so grateful and thought to myself, “Okay, I can manage this.” Then, I hit the Illinois toll road several hours later. That toll booth operator wasn’t quite as sympathetic when I showed him my empty wallet. He slapped the $2.95 ticket down in my hand with a sigh and very reluctantly waved me through.
Literally running on fumes, I made it back to Michigan and will never forget the relief I felt when I finally pulled into our little pole barn “office/warehouse”.
That experience taught me two lessons for trade shows that stuck with me throughout my journey. First, never leave home without emergency funds. Second, big old pickup trucks drink three times the gas my little Datsun did.
The Trade Show That Changed Everything
One trade show truly defined the course of Permaloc.
In January of 1984, we were deep in the red. We were hemorrhaging money, having paid in advance for trade shows, targeted mailings and endless phone calls back to potential customers — this was when long-distance calls were charged by time and distance. We were actually running across town, making partial payments on our phone bill just to retain an open telephone line.
We had no money left to pay for additional trade shows and very little product inventory. Regardless of how much you believe in yourself and your product, financial reality weighs on you heavily. Newly married and without viable options, you push on. Between business and personal expenses, I never really knew when we truly would be at the end of our rope.
I hopped in a borrowed truck, loaded up our booth, literature, samples and drove to the CENTS show in Columbus, Ohio (now known as the MGIX show). This was one of the top regional trade shows for landscape professionals. Of course, with our luck, Ohio received a massive snowstorm, making attendance much lower than anticipated. This makes every attendee even more pivotal.
Our booth was nothing special, just a small space with some heavy panels showcasing our products. Regardless, I stood for hours on end with a four-foot section of edging in hand, flexing it back and forth to demonstrate to potential customers how our aluminum edging was different from the plastic and steel alternatives.
There was a lot of stress associated with the near business collapse. My savings were gone. That of three investors was nearly gone, including one from my mother. I knew even were the business failed, I was morally obligated to repay the principal of $80,000 to the two outside investors.
I could just sense it; we were so close to the tide turning and flowing back our direction. There was solid interest in our product, but the Ohio show was in late January. Spring, although only months away, seemed like years away given our financial condition. I knew there was a very real chance Permaloc would not make it to spring.
The last day of the Ohio show was also student day, and a few had made their way through the weather from Ohio State. They stopped at my booth and while I was demonstrating our edging, I noticed a man standing some distance from my booth watching me enthusiastically present to these students.
When they finished, they gobbled up my literature and small samples and headed to the next booth. This gentleman continued to stand there studying my booth. After a minute, he walked over and introduced himself as the grounds manager for BF Goodrich and kindly asked to see another product demo.
I typically got a lot of product interest, and he was no different. Any salesman knows, however, there can be a wide chasm between bonafide interest and a sale for landscape products, in the dead of winter, especially in a difficult economy.
I demonstrated our edging, showing him how our edging was durable, yet flexible and easy to install. He looked around at our rather meager booth and asked how long we had been in business. I briefly shared my personal and business history. He said he was potentially interested in purchasing 4,000’ of our heavy gauge edging for delivery in May.
I responded by saying, “I will discount you 20% if you take delivery before the end of February, with payment due a week or so after delivery.”
I will never forget the exchange that ensued. He asked, “Why would you do that?”
I replied because I honestly may not be in business by May. He stood there processing that and then said, “I sensed that may be the case.”
He went on to explain, “My crews and I have installed the heavy steel edging, are not fond of it and have a big project ahead of us. How quickly could you get me a sample of your 3/16” gauge edging to show my staff?”
Without hesitation, I handed him my four-foot sample. He flexed it slightly, testing its strength and flexibility, then smiled.
Reaching into his pocket, he handed me his business card and said, “I’ll send you a purchase order for 4,000 lineal feet of your 3/16-inch heavy-gauge aluminum edging. Delivery by the end of February, payment upon receipt. I’ve got 10 empty warehouses—I can store it. Honestly, this works well for both of us. You’ve got a great product. I wish you the best going forward.”
We shook hands and that moment changed everything. Coincidentally, we had just over 4000 lineal feet in stock—exactly what he needed. That financial injection bridged us through to spring.
But it wasn’t just about the money. It was the belief that this man had in me personally and our product. He saw the value, and more importantly, he saw the passion and belief behind it.
It’s been forty years, and I’ve never forgotten that moment. It became a defining point in our company’s journey—and in mine. It taught me that people in the green industry value more than just quality products. They value passion, perseverance and integrity.
When you combine great products with unwavering belief, something powerful happens—people believe in it too.
The Heart of Permaloc
That trade show order was the turning point we so desperately needed. Spring arrived in 1984, and with it came our first wave of fledgling sales. Interest rates slowly began to decline, and long-delayed construction projects finally picked up again. Permaloc started to grow steadily and organically, one landscape specifier, one contractor and one distributor at a time.
We worked long hours to build trust, fulfill orders, and pay back every investor with interest. It was a time of grit, determination, and belief in what we were creating.
By the fall of 1986, we had grown enough to purchase 10 acres of land, along with a 4,500-square-foot, somewhat run-down welding shop. It wasn’t much, but it was ours. We spent many cold weekends renovating that space ourselves, turning it into Permaloc’s first true home.
In those early days, before I had the comfort of an office chair and a proper desk, I worked from a folding chair. Behind me sat a typewriter, and in front of me were two bar stools—one holding the phone, the other a Rolodex. It was humble, but it was a start.
That same year, on Christmas Day, my wife and I welcomed our first of three children, healthy, though six weeks premature. It was a powerful reminder of how far we had come and how much further we still hoped to go. 1986 was the year Permaloc truly began to take root.
Passionate belief in mission, product and self is contagious. At Permaloc, we focus on joy both at work and in personal life. It takes a committed team. I have and continue to be surrounded by the best.
If you look at Permaloc now, it might seem like just another company in the landscaping industry, but I can assure you that is not the case.
To me, our success reflects everything I’ve been through. The sleepless nights, the long drives, the difficult choices and all the risks. It’s the culmination of years of perseverance and a belief that we could do something better for the industry that made us.
So, to anyone reading this who’s starting their own journey or faced with their own tough moments — find your passion, believe in yourself and keep pushing. You never know when the next breakthrough might come or when someone will step into your life and change everything for the better. Remember, it’s the passion and the drive that will see you through.
We are so grateful for the professionals in the green industry who saw the value in our innovation — they believed in what we were building and made it possible for us to grow. Their hard work, passion and dedication to their craft continue to inspire us every day.
Thank you for being part of this incredible journey with us. Here’s to many more years of growth.
Dan Zwier, CEO & Founder of Permaloc
