PHOTOGRAPH BY TONY LUONG ● ● ● SEPTEMBER 2019 ● INC. ● 103
HOW A
JOB LAYOFF
KICKSTARTED
A COMPANY
I grew up playing hockey in New
Jersey, and I was keenly aware of how
sharpening affects your skate perfor-
mance. The only thing I can liken it to
is getting your racket restrung in tennis,
except with ice hockey and figure skat-
ing, you’re getting your skates sharpened
at the pro shop once a week. It was such
a pain. Over the summers, as a teen, I’d
go to hockey camp and we’d sneak in
an old-fashioned sharpener—this group
of 12-year-old boys huddled around,
essentially, a bench grinder in a dorm
closet, trying to keep our edges sharp
without losing an eye. It was nuts.
Everyone in my blue-collar neighbor-
hood was a hustler—holding down
multiple jobs and picking up odd hours
when they could. From the time I was 10,
I worked: I had a paper route, I answered
phones at the church rectory, I pumped
gas, and as soon as it snowed, I’d grab my
shovel and hit the sidewalks. I even made
business cards as a teen to drum up more
business.
But I didn’t want to be hustling in the
same way as an adult; I saw college as a
way out. Once I started, however, it felt
Russ Layton was one of the few people in
his blue-collar neighborhood to make it to
college—and by most measures, his career
in mechanical engineering was a success.
But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was
just going through the motions. When an
unexpected windfall and job loss collided, he
took it as a sign to go all-in on solving a child-
hood frustration. —AS TOLD TO KATE ROCKWOOD
The Long Game
Decades after Russ Layton began
playing ice hockey—and sharpening his
skates on an archaic machine—he
designed a smarter blade sharpener.