Foundations of Agápe
Agápe Story: Foundations of Agápe, by Jim Grote
Carrying newspapers was my first job — it was 1953, I was 10 years old, and it was hard work. At that age, I hadn't started thinking about business principles yet. When I turned 14, I stepped inside a kitchen and took a job at a neighborhood pizza shop. Pizza was just starting to take off back then.
The shop was started by two owners. Both were principle-based in their own way, but they couldn't have been more different. One fellow wasn't very friendly with the folks walking in the door, and he got a little skimpy with the ingredients. He’d try to hold back a pepperoni and some cheese from every customer’s pizza to save money.
The other partner was a fellow named Hollis — he was a great leader. When a customer walked in, they’d share a laugh, catch up on the family, and talk about what was going on in the neighborhood. And Hollis put plenty of toppings on a pizza — he made a wonderful pizza. He stood behind his product like it was a direct reflection of who he was.
Each partner took a night off a week, so I’d manage both of those nights. There were just a handful of employees working there — we were just kids — but Hollis treated us with real kindness. He made us feel like we mattered, like we were true stewards of the business. When Hollis was around, I noticed more customers coming in. I learned how to treat a customer the way I would want to be treated.
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A few years later, the partners split up. Before they put the shop on the market, they called me in and offered to sell it to me. The price was fair with no money down and I could pay it off over time. I was a junior in high school, and I was excited! I ran home to tell my dad my plan: I’d keep going to school, work nights, and have my brother cover the counter while I played in high school football games.
My dad looked at me and said, "First off, this pizza thing is just a fad. And second, you are finishing high school and going to college." Well, he was right about half of that — I did finish high school and went off to college.
I continued working under the new owner who bought the pizza shop. He was a different story entirely. He wasn't neat with the books, and sometimes he’d take money right out of the cash register and head straight down to the corner bar. Not a great example for the young kids working there, but I was paying attention. I saw clearly that if you run a business like Hollis did — if you just do the right thing — you can build a strong business.
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The following year, I’m at Ohio State University taking a business class. The professor stood up and gave us the textbook definition: "The sole purpose of business is to produce goods and services to make a profit." I couldn't disagree more with the “sole” purpose!
Folks around the neighborhood used to tell me, "Red (they called me ‘Red’ back then), business is dog-eat-dog. You’ve gotta get the other guy before he gets you." People looked at business as if it were all about greed. But my parents raised me on trust, honesty, and integrity. I made up my mind right then that if I couldn't be in business based on principles, I didn't want to be in business at all.
I wanted to make a product I was truly proud of. Every pizza was my contract with the customer. If they gave me their hard-earned money, I owed them the absolute best quality every single time. And the young people working for me needed to learn right from wrong, get their start, and grow into leaders themselves.
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When I was 19 years old in 1963, a small pizza shop named Donatos came up for sale. The original owner had named it after the Latin word meaning “to give a good thing”. I didn't have the money, but I had the desire. I pieced it together, borrowed what I needed, and bought it. Eventually, I bought the original shop I’d worked in as a kid and combined the two businesses. We loaded those pizzas with premium toppings — edge to edge — and we treated every customer like a neighbor and a friend.
My philosophy started with the Golden Rule: treat others the way you want to be treated. I aspired to lead my team with love, sometimes tough love. And running the business that way turned out to be very successful.
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By the time I turned 33, Donatos had grown tremendously. I made my first million dollars. That’s when I took a step back and asked myself: “What is all of this for unless I have a purpose?” A lot of money doesn't make you a better person, and it doesn't make you any happier, unless you can do something truly positive with it.
The word “Agápe” came later on, but it brought together everything I had believed from the very beginning. Agápe is unconditional love — the highest form of love. It belongs to the whole world. It’s the universal energy that connects all of us.
The system of capitalism itself doesn't determine whether outcomes are good or bad. Good or bad is determined by the human beings who participate in the system. If you build a culture where you genuinely care about people, you can make a profit, and then you use that profit with a purpose — to do good. You educate your employees in trust, honesty, and integrity. You take care of your customers, and you help the people on your block. When you lead with love, business isn't just about making a living — it becomes a beautiful way to serve your community. Imagine if every business operated that way.
