densityaltitude
13th Mar 2004, 04:25
I think Vern is loosing the plot...............!
From USA Today March 8, 2004
Helping Bring Corporate Jets to the Masses
Venture cuts costs in half by Del Jones
Bill Gates and Vern Raburn were in their 20s and single and stupid enough to drive 100 mph down Central Avenue at 3 a.m. They became good friends, and Gates named Raburn as president of Microsoft's consumer products division in 1979.
In 1982, after the fledgling company had moved to Seattle, Raburn quit. Gates saw that as treason. The two were so angry at each other they didn't speak for more than a year. But they made up, and Gates was best man when Raburn married Dottie Hall, another former Microsoft employee, in 1986.
Gates went on to be the world's richest human and a part of history. In 2006, Raburn expects to make his own assault on history, at least transportation history, when his start-up, Eclipse Aviation, begins making a six-seat corporate jet that will sell for less than half of what the least expensive jets sell for today.
The Eclipse 500 has no potty, and its interior has the feel of a soccer mom's minivan. A seat in the prototype makes a ride in the cab of Raburn's Ford F-150 pickup seem roomy by comparison. Far less cramped, however, is Raburn's vision.
This is a man who remembers when only the Pentagon and universities could afford computing, and it was unthinkable that computers would become part of living rooms. Similarly, the end of jet sticker shock will bring travel to the masses in ways that are now unthinkable, he says.
Even at half the price of other jets, the Eclipse 500 will cost $1 million. That may save the fat cats money, but what is it going to do for the masses? Raburn, 54, explains: Few will be able to afford their own jet, but a seat on a business jet airline - or jet taxi - will cost the same as a first-class seat on an airline.
He says that could begin a migration from airport security lines, hub layovers and the 141 congested airports - where 98% of airline passengers land today - to the convenience of 10,000 general aviation airports.
Raburn is targeting a market that has been in a nose dive. At today's prices, just 384 business jets were shipped in 2003, down 44% from 683 in 2002, according to the General Aviation Manufacturers Association. Eclipse has 2,100 orders for its budget jets and expects to ship 1,500 a year once production begins. As with electronics such as DVD players, volume will feed lower prices.
Raburn says Eclipse will reach $1 billion in annual revenue faster than any company in history except Amazon.com.
Ready to die to save company
Raburn had a near-death experience in 2002. That wouldn't be unusual for a pilot with 6,300 hours of flying in 37 years, a lot for a pilot who has never flown in the military or for an airline. But Raburn has never scratched a plane. His near-death experience came when Eclipse nearly was taken down by an engine catastrophe.
Eclipse was supposed to be selling jets by now, if not for the fact that the engine, which had been outsourced to another company, arrived barely able to start and with insurmountable safety issues.
It's a debacle that would have ended most start-ups. Eclipse engineering Vice President Oliver Masefield remembers Raburn at the time telling everyone that the company was on the brink. But Raburn became obsessed with saving the company.
"I was ready to die to save this company, if that's what it took," he says. "That sounds silly, but if there was a way of sacrificing myself to keep this going, I would have."
Raburn managed to persuade key employees not to bolt for the door, customers to wait two more years for their jets and investors such as Al Mann to throw another $47 million after an original $50 million he put in.
Engine maker Pratt & Whitney was the key to Eclipse's rescue. The company, which did not make the original faulty engine, agreed to make another engine on short notice.
But first Pratt put Eclipse through a three-day "proctologic exam" of due diligence, Raburn says, swarming the Albuquerque office with 22 examiners to make sure Eclipse was for real and had a good chance of revolutionizing the business jet market.
Raburn keeps a photo of a friend flying a plane. The plane is recovering from a dive so low that the photo shows it kicking up dirt. Three inches lower and his friend would be dead, Raburn says.
"He cheated death. Our experience with the engine was like that," Raburn says.
Despite a two-year delay in deliveries, Raburn says Eclipse lost only 65 orders.
When Raburn isn't flying he's reading. He has 50 magazine subscriptions. His fanaticism with flying goes back to boyhood summers when he would sit on a tractor going 1.5 mph with nothing to look at but a flat horizon of Oklahoma, or the sky.
He chose sky. "It became important to my life, just like oceans and mountains become important to other people," he said.
Other boys mowed lawns and delivered newspapers to save for a car. Raburn did it to earn his pilot's license by 17, and he's still addicted. Early on, the Eclipse board insisted that Raburn stop flying because the possibility of an accident put their money at risk. Raburn told them to take a hike; and he hasn't given up an occasional cigar on the deck of his new home that looks out over the Rio Grande.
Ask him why he never became a military pilot and he points at his eyeglasses.
All-day shouting matches
Raburn was working for a California recording company when he met Gates in 1976. Raburn was one of Gates' first executive hires. Raburn quit because they "would have killed each other."
He describes Gates, Steve Ballmer and other Microsoft founders back then as if they were young stars of a hot rock 'n' roll band, without basic leadership skills, arguing over every drumbeat that went into a song.
Microsoft founders were brilliant, but too young for some aspects of business leadership, Raburn says. "How many people start companies before they can drink?"
The immaturity would bring Microsoft leaders to the brink of blows. Raburn says he still remembers a proposal he submitted on how Microsoft should package and ship hardware. It now seems insignificant, yet at the time it was enough to inspire an all-day shouting match in Paul Allen's office and ended only because Raburn had 26 minutes to catch a flight, and the Microsoft record dash to the airport was 24 minutes.
"Extreme debating," is how Raburn describes the early Microsoft culture. "The company wasn't big enough for a bunch of alpha males pissing each other off."
Gates declined interview requests. Raburn says the two reconciled at a conference in Palo Alto, Calif., but rarely see each other. Raburn was with Gates in the mid-1980s when Gates played his first round of golf, and in 1986 for the wedding.
Gates played host to Raburn's 50th birthday party four years ago in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. Gates is five years younger than Raburn, but middle age has snuck up on them all. No one considered driving 100 mph in Mexico. The big thrill came when everyone was made to sing at the birthday party.
"You can see Bill's love for Vern," says Will Stewart, a venture investor with a stake in Eclipse, who attended the party.
There aren't many in Gates' league where it comes to wealth, but Raburn was CEO of Allen's high-tech investment arm and is wealthy enough to frequent Santa Fe art galleries and collect vintage aircraft, including a Lockheed Constellation he bought from John Travolta. If Eclipse comes anywhere close to its business plan, Raburn will soar from well off into rare air.
More important than the potential wealth, though, is that Raburn will "change the aviation industry," says his wife, Hall. Anything less than that would only frustrate him.
From USA Today March 8, 2004
Helping Bring Corporate Jets to the Masses
Venture cuts costs in half by Del Jones
Bill Gates and Vern Raburn were in their 20s and single and stupid enough to drive 100 mph down Central Avenue at 3 a.m. They became good friends, and Gates named Raburn as president of Microsoft's consumer products division in 1979.
In 1982, after the fledgling company had moved to Seattle, Raburn quit. Gates saw that as treason. The two were so angry at each other they didn't speak for more than a year. But they made up, and Gates was best man when Raburn married Dottie Hall, another former Microsoft employee, in 1986.
Gates went on to be the world's richest human and a part of history. In 2006, Raburn expects to make his own assault on history, at least transportation history, when his start-up, Eclipse Aviation, begins making a six-seat corporate jet that will sell for less than half of what the least expensive jets sell for today.
The Eclipse 500 has no potty, and its interior has the feel of a soccer mom's minivan. A seat in the prototype makes a ride in the cab of Raburn's Ford F-150 pickup seem roomy by comparison. Far less cramped, however, is Raburn's vision.
This is a man who remembers when only the Pentagon and universities could afford computing, and it was unthinkable that computers would become part of living rooms. Similarly, the end of jet sticker shock will bring travel to the masses in ways that are now unthinkable, he says.
Even at half the price of other jets, the Eclipse 500 will cost $1 million. That may save the fat cats money, but what is it going to do for the masses? Raburn, 54, explains: Few will be able to afford their own jet, but a seat on a business jet airline - or jet taxi - will cost the same as a first-class seat on an airline.
He says that could begin a migration from airport security lines, hub layovers and the 141 congested airports - where 98% of airline passengers land today - to the convenience of 10,000 general aviation airports.
Raburn is targeting a market that has been in a nose dive. At today's prices, just 384 business jets were shipped in 2003, down 44% from 683 in 2002, according to the General Aviation Manufacturers Association. Eclipse has 2,100 orders for its budget jets and expects to ship 1,500 a year once production begins. As with electronics such as DVD players, volume will feed lower prices.
Raburn says Eclipse will reach $1 billion in annual revenue faster than any company in history except Amazon.com.
Ready to die to save company
Raburn had a near-death experience in 2002. That wouldn't be unusual for a pilot with 6,300 hours of flying in 37 years, a lot for a pilot who has never flown in the military or for an airline. But Raburn has never scratched a plane. His near-death experience came when Eclipse nearly was taken down by an engine catastrophe.
Eclipse was supposed to be selling jets by now, if not for the fact that the engine, which had been outsourced to another company, arrived barely able to start and with insurmountable safety issues.
It's a debacle that would have ended most start-ups. Eclipse engineering Vice President Oliver Masefield remembers Raburn at the time telling everyone that the company was on the brink. But Raburn became obsessed with saving the company.
"I was ready to die to save this company, if that's what it took," he says. "That sounds silly, but if there was a way of sacrificing myself to keep this going, I would have."
Raburn managed to persuade key employees not to bolt for the door, customers to wait two more years for their jets and investors such as Al Mann to throw another $47 million after an original $50 million he put in.
Engine maker Pratt & Whitney was the key to Eclipse's rescue. The company, which did not make the original faulty engine, agreed to make another engine on short notice.
But first Pratt put Eclipse through a three-day "proctologic exam" of due diligence, Raburn says, swarming the Albuquerque office with 22 examiners to make sure Eclipse was for real and had a good chance of revolutionizing the business jet market.
Raburn keeps a photo of a friend flying a plane. The plane is recovering from a dive so low that the photo shows it kicking up dirt. Three inches lower and his friend would be dead, Raburn says.
"He cheated death. Our experience with the engine was like that," Raburn says.
Despite a two-year delay in deliveries, Raburn says Eclipse lost only 65 orders.
When Raburn isn't flying he's reading. He has 50 magazine subscriptions. His fanaticism with flying goes back to boyhood summers when he would sit on a tractor going 1.5 mph with nothing to look at but a flat horizon of Oklahoma, or the sky.
He chose sky. "It became important to my life, just like oceans and mountains become important to other people," he said.
Other boys mowed lawns and delivered newspapers to save for a car. Raburn did it to earn his pilot's license by 17, and he's still addicted. Early on, the Eclipse board insisted that Raburn stop flying because the possibility of an accident put their money at risk. Raburn told them to take a hike; and he hasn't given up an occasional cigar on the deck of his new home that looks out over the Rio Grande.
Ask him why he never became a military pilot and he points at his eyeglasses.
All-day shouting matches
Raburn was working for a California recording company when he met Gates in 1976. Raburn was one of Gates' first executive hires. Raburn quit because they "would have killed each other."
He describes Gates, Steve Ballmer and other Microsoft founders back then as if they were young stars of a hot rock 'n' roll band, without basic leadership skills, arguing over every drumbeat that went into a song.
Microsoft founders were brilliant, but too young for some aspects of business leadership, Raburn says. "How many people start companies before they can drink?"
The immaturity would bring Microsoft leaders to the brink of blows. Raburn says he still remembers a proposal he submitted on how Microsoft should package and ship hardware. It now seems insignificant, yet at the time it was enough to inspire an all-day shouting match in Paul Allen's office and ended only because Raburn had 26 minutes to catch a flight, and the Microsoft record dash to the airport was 24 minutes.
"Extreme debating," is how Raburn describes the early Microsoft culture. "The company wasn't big enough for a bunch of alpha males pissing each other off."
Gates declined interview requests. Raburn says the two reconciled at a conference in Palo Alto, Calif., but rarely see each other. Raburn was with Gates in the mid-1980s when Gates played his first round of golf, and in 1986 for the wedding.
Gates played host to Raburn's 50th birthday party four years ago in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. Gates is five years younger than Raburn, but middle age has snuck up on them all. No one considered driving 100 mph in Mexico. The big thrill came when everyone was made to sing at the birthday party.
"You can see Bill's love for Vern," says Will Stewart, a venture investor with a stake in Eclipse, who attended the party.
There aren't many in Gates' league where it comes to wealth, but Raburn was CEO of Allen's high-tech investment arm and is wealthy enough to frequent Santa Fe art galleries and collect vintage aircraft, including a Lockheed Constellation he bought from John Travolta. If Eclipse comes anywhere close to its business plan, Raburn will soar from well off into rare air.
More important than the potential wealth, though, is that Raburn will "change the aviation industry," says his wife, Hall. Anything less than that would only frustrate him.