The Kullman I knew

Category: Tribute

Published on Saturday, 10 December 2011 06:34

Written by Randy Garbin

During the last half of the 1990s and into the next century, I had the good fortune of working with Kullman Industries. Thanks to my experience publishing Roadside Magazine, the company hired me to design marketing materials, including their website and a few brochures. I also counted them as a major advertiser in the magazine.

Kullman was the first to build “retro” diners, and the Silver Diner seen here from Rockville, Maryland was the second such unit. The first called the American City Diner they installed not far away in D.C. proper. This Silver Diner is now closed and awaits demolition.

Thanks to this relationship, I had the opportunity to see the company up close. I was also instrumental in getting a good friend a job there selling their diners in what appeared as a renewed effort to reestablish themselves in the entry-​level diner market. That is, if you consider three-​quarters of a million dollars for a diner “entry-​level.” My first job for Kullman involved designing the brochure for this diner they would call the “Blue Comet.” After a few decades of building ever-​larger units seating 200 or more, the company saw an opportunity to possibly move in on territory being established by the new builders from the south, Diner-​Mite and Starlite. About this time, Starlite installed a unit not four miles from the Kullman headquarters in Lebanon, New Jersey.

Kullman’s Lavazza drive-​through concept. Sad to say, I believe that Kullman possibly built no more than three Blue Comet class diners, one of which that went to Hadley, Massachusetts and called the Sit Down Diner. Both the Sit Down and the whole Blue Comet effort would ultimately fail. Apparently, despite their superior quality, budding diner operators opted instead for the still-​lesser-​priced Starlite or Diner-​Mites. Kullman would continue to build its expansive diner-​plexes, exemplified by the Park West Diner and Johnny D’s. With price tags of $2 million or more, only a special breed of operator could even think about buying one.

Kullman, however, derived most of its income from its other lines. At one point, cell phone tower utility buildings became a major cash cow for the company as the wireless companies embarked on major expansions. Kullman also continued to build educational buildings and it made a brief foray into constructing drive-​through coffee kiosks and Checker’s hamburger drive-​throughs.

What finally undid the once high-​flying company, however, was the decision to build embassies for the U.S. State Department. Its first few projects went well. Kullman capitalized on its expertise in modular structures and ship them to far flung outposts like Turkmenistan and Kyrgyzstan. Still stinging from the Moscow embassy debacle, the State Department sought out Kullman because it could build entire embassies using American labor on American soil.

The process was put to the test with the proposal to build a three-​story embassy slated for Dushanbe. This time, the company appeared to over-​extend itself. The project blew all its deadlines and went far past its original budget. The government would ultimately leave Kullman holding the bag for millions, and it eventually filed for bankruptcy in 2005. Purchased by Avi Telyas, the company re-​dubbed itself Kullman Buildings and built one more diner, but announced that it would concentrate on building modular condominium buildings.

In all honesty, with all my former contacts having jumped or found themselves pushed from the ship, I know little of its affairs in the ensuing years. I did, however, witness a classic case of a company riding high during a bubble. After a decade or more on top of the bubble, it poured millions into the construction of a new headquarters which not only gained it slick new digs but unwelcome overhead.

This computer generated rendering shows the Blue Comet Diner, Kullman’s attempt to get back into the “affordable” diner segment. In terms of its diner business, I saw a company that had largely lost its way, depending too much on the high-​end “Greek market,” Kullman simply could not find a way to innovate and expand into the more affordable sector then dominated by Starlite. When Denny’s wanted to build all their new Denny’s Diners, they solicited Kullman who in the end could not match Starlite’s price point. From what I understand, the difference was less than 10%.

The company’s overhead simply hurt their competitiveness. The owners and executives lived relatively flashy and comfortable lifestyles, driving the latest German cars, and dressed like GQ fashion models. In contrast, when I met Phil DeRaffele — who at the time was eating Kullman’s lunch in the high-​end diner market — he wore a broken-​in cardigan and worked in a small, disheveled office last decorated in 1974. I know muffler shops with more opulence.

The company did some great things. It didn’t invent the diner, of course, but its quietly innovated many advancements in modular construction and became the standard-​bearer for diner design and construction. It outlasted dozens of competitors in that field, and when that business dried up, it was smart enough to utilize its expertise in other ways.

We have now arrived near the end of America’s diner-​building history. The curtain will soon close. I haven’t spoke with Phil DeRaffele since my interview with him in 2006, but he was 84 then. I see no one looking to get into the business of constructing true prefab diners. The economic and regulatory environment has all-​but-​made the prospect prohibitive, and it also makes it even more imperative to preserve what we have left.