The First Cracks
When I look back today, I sometimes wonder when the wind began to change. I could not name a precise date. There was no particular morning when I opened the door of the Pyramid and suddenly knew that everything was about to change. Life does not work that way. Great changes rarely announce themselves with noise and drama. They usually begin with small signs. Signs that, at the time, seem too insignificant to notice.
During those years, the amount of work continued to increase. New projects arrived. New manufacturers wanted to work with us. More and more people came to our door with new ideas. In itself, that was naturally positive. But at the same time, I slowly began to understand that perhaps we were moving in too many directions at once. During the day, we welcomed visitors. At the same time, quotes had to be prepared. Software development had to continue. Demonstrations had to be organized. New collections had to be installed.
Our journeys to Italy remained necessary. And meanwhile, the administrative work never stopped. Invoices had to be paid. Salaries issued on time. Commitments honored. Sometimes it seemed that one day was simply no longer enough. I remember one evening when I walked alone through the showroom. The lights had already been turned off. Only the emergency lighting still cast a soft glow over the ceramic displays. I stopped for a moment.
Not because I was tired, but because, for the first time, I truly felt the weight of everything we were carrying on our shoulders. I thought about our colleagues. The factories that had placed their trust in us. The customers who relied on us. And, of course, Marco. He gave everything he had within him.
Perhaps even more than I did. He had an endless desire to improve everything. As soon as a program worked, he already saw how it could be perfected. As soon as a website was finished, he was thinking about the next version. I loved that perfectionism in him. But sometimes it worried me too.
"Marco," I would tell him from time to time, "not everything has to be finished today."
He would smile and reply:
"Dad, if we don't do it, someone else will do it tomorrow."
That was Marco. He always lived one step ahead. Had he learned that from me? Or had we mutually driven one another further and further in that direction? When I think back today, I believe both are probably true. Technology itself was also changing at an incredible pace. Computers that only a year earlier had seemed the most modern available were suddenly already outdated. New software required ever more powerful machines. The Internet was slowly becoming part of business life.
Email was transforming the way people communicated. Everyone expected information to become available faster and faster. We constantly tried to keep pace with all those changes. But it required more than time. New investments were also continually necessary. At every step, we had to make difficult choices. What should we invest in first? Which development took priority? Which customer needed our help today? Which dream could wait a little longer?
None of those decisions was simple. Yet I remained convinced that we were moving in the right direction. Perhaps I was even too optimistic. I believed in people. I thought a promise had to be kept. That a handshake still meant something. That trust was stronger than distrust. Those convictions brought me wonderful friendships.
But they also made me vulnerable. I did not understand that at the time. When I look back on those years today, I do not see people who wanted to make mistakes. I see people who tried with all their hearts to build something exceptional. Perhaps we were too ambitious. Perhaps we tried to accomplish too many things at once.
But we never acted solely in our own interest. Behind everything we undertook was the same conviction: it was possible to move an entire industry forward. That faith kept us on our feet. Even when the first small cracks began to appear. A dream rarely collapses in a single day. First, it is tested. And sometimes only many years later do we understand that those first trials announced the beginning of an entirely new chapter in our life.
At the time, we did not yet know that. We simply continued to work. To hope. And above all... to believe. Without that faith, Piramedia would never have existed. And without that faith, we would never have come so far.