Mr. T. Rules the Tower

Long before The A-Team became a hit television show, Sears had its own Mr. T. In a polite and personable way, Chairman Edward Riggs Telling, 65, who is 6 ft. 2 in. and 220 Ibs., can be as tough in his sphere as that big bruiser with the Mandinka haircut. A former colleague recalls that Telling once delivered a friendly but firm ultimatum to the man ager of a money-losing store. "You know your job is on the line," said Telling. "This is September, and I don't see any reason why you can't turn this store into a profit maker by January. But if you don't, I won't come around again. So let's just shake hands now, and we'll part friends." The store made a profit by January.

When Telling became chairman in 1978, Sears was more like a far-flung feudal kingdom than a smooth-running company. Store managers ordered goods in a haphazard way and sometimes ignored merchandising strategies planned at headquarters. Telling cut costs and raised sales by imposing discipline and direction from the Sears Tower in Chicago. To add spark to the company, he eased out complacent old-line executives and appointed younger, fresher lieutenants to key positions. Says Telling: "It was very lonely. What I did had to be done, but I knew I wouldn't be very popular."

Telling had more, though, than a stern hand. He had the vision and daring to lead Sears into new fields like stock brokerage and real estate. After becoming chairman, he set up a strategic planning committee. Says Archie Boe, who retired in March as Sears president: "We studied every U.S. industry, even automobiles and steel."

A Sears man for 38 years, Telling started as a receiving clerk at the company's store in his home town of Dan ville, Ill. (pop. 39,000). "I was a clerk until I thought I'd die," he remembers.

When Telling made it to the post of store manager eight years later, he soon got a chance to prove his pluck. A month after he took over, the Danville store burned down. With no help or advice from Chicago, he salvaged what he could from the ruins and moved the business into an empty garage. By the time Sears got around to rebuilding its Danville outlet eight months later, Telling's garage operation had surpassed the old store in both sales and profits.

The father of five and the grandfather of eight, Telling is as all-American as the customers he aims to please. The son of a bank cashier, he was an Eagle Scout by age twelve. In high school he was an end on the football team and a good tennis player. After graduating from Illinois Wesleyan with a bachelor's degree in business administration and economics, he joined the Navy during World War II and became a pilot, stationed in Pensacola, Fla.

Though Telling's income is now elite ($1.4 million last year), his values remain middle class. He buys his dark gray suits from Sears and loves to fling open his jacket to flash the label. In fact, the only part of his wardrobe not from Sears is shoes. Reason: his 13 A size is too rare for his stores to keep in stock. Telling's only ostentation is that he often rides to work from his home in Northbrook, Ill., in a company limousine or sometimes drives himself in a sleek black Jaguar. He defensively points out that the Jag belongs to his wife Nancy.

Behind his plain-wrapper exterior lies a poet at heart with a phenomenal memory for verse. Wesley Poulson, chairman of Coldwell Banker, says that he once engaged Telling in a duel to see who could remember more of William Cullen Bryant's Thanatopsis. First Poulson would deliver a line or two, and then Telling. Long after Poulison had given up, Telling was still reciting the 81 line poem. He should certainly know the poem by Edgar A. Guest that graced the cover of the 1934 fall-winter Sears catalog. The last stanza:

They know me as a catalog and

yet on lonely nights

I bring them dreams and fancies

and a wealth of real

delights.

For often when the day is done

and duty's flags are furled

I take the family shopping round

the markets of the world.

Telling is scheduled to retire at the end of 1985. The front runners for the top spot appear to be Edward Brennan, 50, chief of merchandising; Donald Craib, 59, head of the Allstate insurance group; and Richard Jones, 57, Sears vice chairman. Whoever gets the job will have a tough time filling Mr. T.'s size 13A shoes.