The children of Sal Lupoli, Joe Faro, and Ginny Eramo are all stepping into ready-made businesses. But in a way, the odds are stacked against them: According to a widely circulated stat, only around 30 percent of family businesses survive through the second generation.
Lupoli, Faro, and Eramo—and their children—are all working to buck that trend. From practicing how to humanely fire employees, to studying other business transitions, to quietly handing off power behind the scenes, here’s how the three families are attempting to put the “success” in succession.
Earning Respect
Joe Faro, founder of Tuscan Brands, doesn’t yet have a formal succession plan in place. For now, his sons Joe Jr. and Max are learning as much as they can about the business—and he’s learning as much as he can about how other founders have successfully handed off companies to the next generation.
“I’m like a sponge,” Faro says, rattling off lessons he’s learned from watching other transitions gone awry. “Communication is very important. Patience is important. Honesty and transparency and candor are important. Not that we’re transitioning next week, but I really want to do it right.”
Faro founded Joseph’s Pasta in the attic of his family’s Lawrence bakery in 1991, sold that company, briefly retired, and then started Tuscan Brands, a 3,000-employee company that operates in hospitality, real estate development, and food manufacturing.
Joe Jr., 28, studied business and entrepreneurship at Suffolk University and worked his way up from busboy to manager in Tuscan Brands’ restaurants. When the pandemic hit, he pivoted to marketing, and he is now regional sales director for Artisan Chef Manufacturing, working with national accounts including Walmart, Sam’s Club, and Trader Joe’s. “I can walk into some of the largest retailers in the country and have them know me and respect me,” he says. “That’s not something I ever imagined in college.”
Max, 26, studied business and entrepreneurship at Brown University and spent much of his college years interning at Tuscan Village. After graduation, he joined the construction team, quickly moving from hauling plywood and fences to managing major projects. Now, as director of construction and development, he oversees builds of restaurants, multifamily housing projects, and a fulfillment center tied to the company’s manufacturing arm.
Rather than relying on their last name, the brothers say, they find themselves working even harder to show that they belong in their positions. “You develop this chip on your shoulder that makes you want to prove to everyone you can do things yourself,” Max says. “That’s gone into our work ethic.”
“Nothing is ever given,” Joe Faro Sr. says. “People are going to respect you because of your actions, and they’re going to respect you because of the example that you set.”
He notes that he was able to make mistakes on a small scale when he was first starting out, while his sons are walking into a multifaceted operation. “Honestly, I think it could be harder for them than it was for me. I was too dumb to know what I didn’t know. They’re walking into a complex enterprise and have to create their own value.”
Joe Faro Sr. has seen other family businesses descend into backbiting and jealousy—tearing apart not only companies, but also family units—and he is determined to avoid that fate, both for Tuscan Brands and his children. He is intentional about giving both of his sons space: They work in different units, and neither report to him.
“There will be difficult situations,” he says. “That’s simply the path we chose. But I would never want to sacrifice Christmas dinner for the business. That’s not why we built this.”
From Baby to Boss
For six months, employees at Interlocks Salon in Newburyport had no idea they were working for a new CEO.
Founder Ginny Eramo, who is now managing director of Interlocks’ adjacent medical spa, founded the salon in 1988, when her daughter Jordan was only a year old. That meant many employees had watched Jordan grow up, rather than meeting her as a professional adult.
“We were worried there was going to be some level of: ‘Can Jordan do this?’” Eramo says. “There’s sometimes a false perception that a person lacks ability when they’re the owner’s daughter. So we wanted to make sure we set everyone up for success. Then we could say, we’ve already been doing this for six months, everything is okay.”
Jordan Becker, now 38, grew up toddling around Interlocks and worked the front desk as a teenager, but she never imagined taking over her mother’s business. “I really did not see this as my future,” she says.
Becker attended the University of Miami with plans to become an educator, and she had even enrolled in a graduate program at New York University before a health situation spurred her to come back home to the North Shore. At the time, Eramo needed extra administrative help, and Becker gradually transitioned into a leadership role. Eramo’s son Eric also worked at Interlocks as a buyer for a time, but he then set out on his own, opening BANTER Barber & Clothier in downtown Newburyport.
“I’ve never had any expectation for our kids to work with us,” Eramo says. “But it’s so great that we’re able to work together. We have a really good balance. Jordan is very willing to take my input, and I’m very mindful not to micromanage anything. And she’s a better leader than I was, to be truthful.”
Over nearly four decades, Eramo—and now, Becker—have grown Interlocks from a modest shop into an operation spanning 7,400 square feet, including the medical spa. “When I started Interlocks, I only had a handful of people, and it grew organically over time,” says Eramo. “When I handed it off to Jordan two and a half years ago, the staff was smaller than it is now. I was really at my limit, where I did not have a leadership team, and I was wearing too many hats.”
Becker not only lightened the load for her mother, but also introduced a new leadership style, as well as a management framework called the Entrepreneurial Operating System. Eramo admits she would sometimes default to “lecturing” employees who made mistakes, while Becker is more likely to sit with them to find the root of the problem.
“I think my leadership style is very open and honest,” Becker says. “I’ve learned to be really comfortable having uncomfortable conversations. And I’ve learned that it’s easier to put something out on the table and talk about it than to let it sit and stew.”
Over the next several years, Eramo hopes to fully transfer ownership of the Interlocks brand to Becker, with another leader at the company taking over operations at the medical spa. For now, the pair maintain an easy balance between their personal and professional lives.
“When I’m here at the office, Ginny is Ginny,” Becker says. “But the second I walk out that door and I call her on my ride home, she’s Mom.”
A 100-Year Legacy
From an early age, Sal Lupoli’s children Mary and Sal Jr. practiced firing people.
Lupoli would play-act as an employee who had begun hurting the business, and his children, who were as young as seven years old at the time, were tasked with following through with the termination, no matter how many excuses he made or how much he pleaded.
The point wasn’t to make Mary and Sal Jr. calloused and unsympathetic, but rather to underscore how leaders sometimes need to make difficult decisions for the greater good of the business—and the good of the other workers who depend on its success.
“You’re obligated to the people who work for you,” Lupoli says. “If someone is preventing others from earning more money or advancing, you have to make that tough decision. It’s not about you. It’s about protecting the whole organization. Out of all my accomplishments, I’m most proud of our 1,200 employees. People put food on their table because of this organization, and we’re obligated to protect them.”
Lupoli started Sal’s Pizza (which has now morphed into Lupoli Companies) in 1990 with a single shop as a way to get into real estate. Today, Lupoli Companies operates more than 150 Sal’s Pizza locations and owns 10 million square feet of real estate, including the 4.5-million-square-foot Riverwalk complex in Lawrence.
Mary and Sal Jr. starred in the company’s commercials as kids and accompanied their father on “pizzagrams”—family pizza deliveries made to new business partners to seal a deal. Mary, now 28, worked for several years at Oxford Properties after earning degrees from Bentley University and Boston College.
“It became evident to me that I needed to create a name for myself,” says Mary, associate director of leasing and development at Lupoli Companies. “People knew me as ‘Sal’s daughter,’ which I love, but I needed to also create my own mark in the real estate business. I wanted to show: I can do this without you having to pave the path for me.”
Sal Jr. took a different route, playing professional indoor football for the Massachusetts Pirates and even participated in the New England Patriots’ minicamp last spring before joining Lupoli Companies. He earned two business degrees from Bentley University, and he is currently rotating through different parts of the business to get an organization-wide view of its operations.
Sal Jr. likens the experience to his time in football. “I try to beat everybody to the office every day,” he says. “Instead of putting my cleats on, I’m taking out my laptop out of my backpack.”
Sal Lupoli Sr. plans to stay involved in the business “as long as I can take a breath,” but he hopes to gradually step back into a counselor or advisor position as his children grow into leadership roles in the organization. “I might have built it, but I won’t be the one to take it to the next level,” he says. “It will be the next generation. My legacy will not be how many pizza shops or hotels we own. My legacy will be that, in 100 years, somebody will still be able to say, ‘I work for Lupoli Companies.’ That’s my legacy.”