FAYETTEVILLE -- John Ervin is a risk taker.
His fear of flying led him to become a pilot. His timid approach to style was squashed with a love for suede shoes and multi-pattern shirts. And his reservations about beginning an accounting firm just a few years after college graduation were assuaged by doing it anyway.
Ervin began Ervin & Co. CPAs in 1978 in Fayetteville, at age 26, with only three years of professional experience and hardly any money in the bank.
"Then all you needed was a calculator, a copier, a pencil and a pad of paper and you could go into business," he says.
What he lacked in tenure he made up for with a careful, thorough approach.
"He knows his business," says Cayla Wilson, Ervin's life partner. "He is a self-made man, worked very hard to establish his business. He created [it] with hard work and determination.
"You want him on your side when it comes to taxes and tax laws. He also has a quirky sense of humor and he's really funny. He's not your average accountant."
Ervin has seen the accounting business evolve many times over -- through the days of the often unreliable paper tape machine, data centers for input sheets, the early generations of personal computers, and through the fancy new machines that had 20- megabyte hard drives and laser printers.
Ervin did his best to stay on top of the technology curve.
Since he worked at the CPA firm before he took over, his advantage was being well acquainted with all the clients and keeping the same secretary, who had known them even longer.
It was an ideal base of trust on which to build, and Ervin expanded his practice little by little.
"He's conscientious about getting his work done correctly for the clients," says Jerry Cherry, an accountant at Frost PLLC, who first met Ervin as a client and later worked for him. "He's very personable and has a good way with clients. If they have an issue or problem, he does his best to help you work it out or solve it."
In 1992, he opened an additional office in Harrison, thinking that his home ties would be an advantage. But it wasn't.
"I felt like because I had the Harrison connection of growing up there that I could build onto that practice," Ervin says. "But I had been gone since 1971. Twenty years is a lot of time to try to rekindle connections.
"They had formed their own relationships and it was difficult to try to break back in."
It was important to have strong ties with the community, he says, because accounting is a business based on relationships.
"You've got to shop there, go to church there, your kids have to go to school there because they want to see you [around town]."
BALANCING BUSINESS, LIFE
Introverted by nature, Ervin spent years perfecting a fine balance of staying active in the community while also setting aside the quiet, alone time that he needs regularly.
He started making connections by volunteering on the board of directors for the Salvation Army, joining Springdale Rotary and as chairman of the development council for the Jones Center for Families, where he was instrumental in getting the ball rolling for more effective fundraisers.
"His leadership [helped] decide what this group is going to be, what are we going to do, set goals," says Kelly Kemp, chief advancement officer for the center. "He has a deep passion for the Jones Center ... he's a loyal donor and continues to support the gala. That speaks volumes about him and speaks highly of his love for community and his character."
Among his contributions there was arranging for Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, a popular swing band, to perform for the first Jones Center gala in 2010. He volunteered to secure the band because of his love for music (and he'd heard the band several times), but its success was evident when 600 people attended, even with an ice storm underway.
He continues to build the community up by volunteering regularly for the Northwest Arkansas Economic Development District and for Angel Flights, in which private pilots donate their time and pay their own expenses to fly critically ill patients to doctor's appointments and treatments.
"He's a giver of time, resources, business and his personal time," says Frank Gibson, a professional clothier and friend of Ervin's. "That's what I like about John. Sometimes success goes to people's heads, but he's reflected his success ... to help others.
"People who have the opportunity to give and don't want people to know about it ... it takes a certain type of person to give the most and talk about it least."
The most surprising networking venue to Ervin was Panera Bread Co. The act of getting a cup of coffee in the same place at the same time is a ritual that has introduced him to more clients than probably any other avenue.
No matter the method, it worked.
Ervin & Co. expanded again in 1996 with a second office in Fayetteville. By 2000, it was the largest single-owner CPA firm in Arkansas with a total of 25 employees, and was nominated for small business of the year by Arkansas Business Journal in 2001.
"He came from modest beginnings," Gibson says. "He had one of the largest independent CPA firms in Arkansas and he built it himself. That's a great accomplishment."
The very next year, Ervin's father died, an event he says changed his view on life.
"Up until that point, I felt like I was going to live forever. Life was good and I was going to live forever," he says. "And then when he passed away, I realized, 'No, you're not.'"
He had gotten away from the part of accounting he loved -- working individually with clients -- and into the less appealing business of management.
It was time to focus on what was important.
RAZORBACK AT HEART
Ervin, 61, was raised in Harrison, where he spent long days squirrel hunting, exploring the forest and fishing at Bull Shoals Lake.
He began working as early as seventh grade, distributing sales circulars, mowing lawns and, in high school, working for Walter's Department Store.
His mother encouraged him to attend a Christian college, but he'd had his eye on the University of Arkansas. Nothing could sway him. Besides, he couldn't drink beer at a Christian college.
"I knew I always wanted to come to the University of Arkansas; nothing else was considered. That was where I wanted to be," he says.
During his first semester Ervin enjoyed life, but not class.
"I wasn't a very good student ... I was more focused on having a good time," Ervin says. "I wanted to get out and do things and work, and so I figured, 'Well, why do I need a four-point [grade point average]? If I need a four-point, I'll hire one. That's what I did."
With poor grades and anxious about having a low military draft number, Ervin followed his first semester with a stint in the National Guard. He completed a six- month tour of duty and when he returned, he was glad to be in school.
He followed the footsteps of his Uncle Norman, who was a well established accountant in Arlington, Texas, and hoped to have a similar career in Dallas.
Ervin found work with Leon Bland, CPA, a small accounting firm in Fayetteville, during his senior year and continued to work there part time after his graduation in 1976.
His first competitive step came from Douglas Walker & Co. The larger firm provided a better salary and full-time work, but it didn't take long for his old employer to come calling. Bland needed a buyer for the firm, and he had chosen Ervin as the man he wanted to take it over.
"I told him, 'I'm happy where I am, I'm not ready to buy a CPA practice,'" he says. "Well, he kept calling and I bought his practice. Here I am, 26 years old, I had zero money. I financed every penny of it.
"The bank was willing to loan me $10,000 ... to pay the down payment, and I went from there."
WHITE KNUCKLE FLIER
After his father's death, Ervin scaled back the business and returned to seeing clients. He sold the Harrison practice, admitting that he wasn't the right person to make the office as successful as it could be, and cut his staff in half.
By 2009, his remained one of the most respected accounting firms in the state. Frost, PLLC recognized that and made him a purchase offer that was too good to pass up.
Ervin continued to practice there for five years before leaving to pursue a diverse set of interests.
In selling his practice, Ervin gained the freedom to work on a number of things, often something different every day. He also has more time to devote to Angel Flights.
Ervin began piloting out of frustration over his fear of flying.
"When I had to fly commercially, I was always, 'Oh please God, not today!'" he says. "I got to a point and said, 'I'm going to conquer this fear.'"
He began taking piloting lessons in 2000, and found that he was less fearful if he was in charge of the craft. He earned his private pilot license in 2001, an instrument rating proficiency in 2003 and bought a Cessna 182 in 2004.
Ervin has since logged 1,000 hours of flying time, taken mountain flying adventures and achieved the difficult feat of landing at the Leadville, Colo., airport -- the test of an exceptional pilot.
He began volunteering for Angel Flight in 2005 and has made approximately 50 trips. The pilots use their aircraft and pay for the fuel to take patients across the country for medical appointments. Many of the patients have a terminal illness, such as cancer, and wouldn't be able to make the trip by car because of the treatments' effects, finances, or both.
He was hooked from his very first Angel Flight experience, when he took a humble farming couple to the MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston.
"The neat thing about it is you have this immediate connection with them," Ervin says. "They're so appreciative of you taking them because it would be real hard ... they've got cancer, they're going for radiation and chemo[therapy] treatments and to drive to Houston and drive back would be a tremendous hardship."
The trips taught him crucial things about flying, such as the importance of knowing the total weight of the load and how to balance it.
One trip taught him to stay cool under pressure.
As he was flying home from a flight to New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina, a light on the dashboard began flashing around midnight.
Given the hour and his exhaustion, he thought he imagined it. The second flash, over south Arkansas, convinced him otherwise. A third prompted him to pull a breaker and reset the system. It flashed a fourth time over Little Rock.
By Russellville, the entire flight panel was dark. The plane's attitude and heading reference system (AHRS), the instrument that provides vital information about the plane's direction and the forces against it, had given out.
He continued to fly, trusting that at any minute Fayetteville would come into view and Springdale shortly after. It did.
Knowing he could handle an emergency changed his perspective on flying.
Thankfully for him, the high-focus moments are few and far between, leaving plenty of time to get acquainted with the passengers.
More often than not, they uplift him. They share their life stories, talk about the progression of the disease and even discuss funeral plans. Flying over the low hills of Missouri and flat plains of Oklahoma, they point out the monuments of their childhood, with Ervin as a witness to their lives. Ervin formed a connection with many of them and would often fly them a second or third time, just to check up on them.
It employs a part of him that's been at work with his friends for many years -- that of confidant.
"To be successful, you have to be a good listener," says Rick McCullough, a friend and colleague. "You have to have communication skills to express ideas and have that discussion.
"Other CPAs respect him. His name is at the top of the list."
"He's a good friend," Kemp says. "He's been there for me through the last 10 years. You can talk to him about anything and know that it's in confidence; he listens. That's something that makes him special to so many people."
To listen and to help, he says, is his greatest reward.
"I get blessed much more. What a blessing I get, flying like that. [The patients] are such an incredible inspiration," Ervin says. "It's important to give back, especially when I consider how blessed I feel that I am."
NW Profiles on 09/21/2014