Lessons From “The Greatest Sales Letter Ever”

My granfather Joseph F. Ruwitch was born on this day (October 3) in 1911.

Happy Birthday, Gramp!

Here’s one of my favorite stories about him, ripped from the pages of my bestselling book, Story Power Marketing:

Soon after I began dating Melissa, she met my paternal grandfather, Joe. The first thing Gramp asked her: “So, Melissa, whaddya cook?”

Gramp was from a different world, where men brought home the bacon, and women fried it up in a pan. In Gramp’s world, Melissa would be A-OK if she could whip up a tasty bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich.

And me? Gramp wanted me to “make something” of myself. When I was a kid, I would visit Gramp in his home study. There was always a copy of the Wall Street Journal on his desk. I paged through it from time to time. I didn’t understand the articles, but even as a little kid, I thought Gramp was somebody. And the Wall Street Journal on his desk had something to do with it.

Here’s what I didn’t know then: The Journal attracted customers like Gramp with an ad that’s been called “the best sales letter of all time.” The letter captivated people like my grandfather who dreamed of becoming somebody or who dreaded being the guy who didn’t make it.

Legendary copywriter Martin Conroy wrote the letter.

It begins:

“On a beautiful late spring afternoon, twenty-five years ago, two young men graduated from the same college. They were very much alike, these two young men. Both had been better than average students, both were personable and both—as young college graduates are—were filled with ambitious dreams for the future.”

I read the letter now, and I picture Gramp, young and ambitious, walking the green pastures of the University of Michigan. I didn’t know Joe Ruwitch then. But I know the Journal had him pegged.

The story continues . . .

“Recently, these two young men returned to campus for their 25th reunion. They were still very much alike. Both were happily married. Both had three children. And both, it turned out, had gone to work for the same Midwestern manufacturing company after graduation, and were still there.

“But there was a difference. One of the men was manager of a small department of that company. The other was its president.”

One man was president. The other, a lowly manager. One man was on the mountaintop. The other, stuck in a trough. One won the race. The other fell behind and couldn’t catch up. One brought home the bacon. The other brought home scraps. One succeeded. The other failed.

A classic winner-loser tale—with a lesson.

“What made the difference?” the letter asks.

“It isn’t a native intelligence or talent or dedication. It isn’t that one person wants success and the other doesn’t. The difference lies in what each person knows and how he or she makes use of that knowledge.”

Translation: If you want to be a winner in business, you have to know more than the losers. How will you know more? The letter answers:

“And that is why I am writing to you and to people like you about The Wall Street Journal. For that is the whole purpose of The Journal: to give its readers knowledge—knowledge that they can use in business.”

Martin Conroy had a P.L.A.N. when he wrote this letter. The Promise: Win the race; don’t fall behind. Be the president, not a department manager. Reach the mountain-top; don’t get stuck in a rut. Be the one everyone admires.

How can you be that man or woman? The letter delivers the Lesson: Read the Journal…

…That letter ran for twenty-five years and generated more than $2 billion in subscription sales for the Journal. Remember the three Story Power Principles? This letter checks the boxes.

Principle No. 1: Keep the focus on prospects’ emotional journeys. This story may star “two young men,” but their emotional journeys reflect the Journal’s prospects—my grandfather and millions like him.

Principle No. 2: Keep it human and personal. This letter isn’t some lecture about the importance of acquiring knowledge. It’s a story with human characters and human experiences.

Principle No. 3: Keep it simple. Two young men. Both started at the same place with the same advantages. One wins. One loses. Here’s why . . .

Could it be more simple?

And what about the 3Es—Empathize, Envision, and Enable? Conroy nails them. The writer knows how his readers feel and how they want to feel. He empathizes and envisions.

Conroy knows and understands my grandfather—the striving, the yearning to rise through the ranks to make something of himself. He knows his readers dread losing and crave winning. Conroy knows the pride a young businessperson feels when they tell classmates at the reunion, “I’m company president.” He knows the shame they feel when they don’t achieve as they had hoped.

Pride. Shame. Status. Powerful emotions driving Conroy’s readers. That’s why he crafts a story about a reunion. Conroy understands his prospects measure themselves against how others perceive them.

That’s one bit of my book that reveals proven menthods to create client-attracting, profit-generating content — without getting stuck.

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