Patrick Calello parks his 11-year-old Honda Civic against a yellow curb on Margaret Morrison Street and flicks on the hazard lights. They are among the few lights that work on the Civic, which has one high beam, no low beams, a spider crack on the windshield, a cracked cylinder head in the engine, and a hole in the floor through which Calello can watch the road passing by. The senior industrial design major recently bought the car for $100 at a junkyard after his family鈥檚 financial hardship required him to sell his brand new, souped-up Honda CRX. As Calello gets out of the car to walk to his design class in Baker Hall, he leaves the Civic鈥檚 lights flashing. He never legally parks the car鈥攊t鈥檚 his way of daring someone to steal it. No one ever does.
Before heading to class, Calello made sure to stuff extra sketch paper in his backpack so that he could spend time sketching cars. He鈥檚 always been fascinated by them. As a toddler, he uttered his first word鈥攃ar鈥攊n the back of the family station wagon. At seven years old, he happily trudged alongside his father at auto shows. Only when he left for college did he abandon his 300-car Hot Wheels collection. Now his classmates tease him about doodling cars.
When Calello arrives at his design class, he doesn鈥檛 have time for sketching. His professor invited a guest speaker from Waddell Manufacturing, which produces wooden trinkets for the hobby industry. The speaker announces a competition for the class to create a wooden toy.
鈥淚 have to make a car,鈥� Calello thinks. He never considers other concepts.
In the Baker Hall woodshop, he starts creating a toy that will let children do what he always wanted to do鈥攄esign and build cars. His concept involves interchangeable parts that wouldn鈥檛 limit children to building a stock toy. After refining his drafts, he builds a prototype out of insulation foam. He takes it to Carnegie Mellon鈥檚 Children鈥檚 School and watches the preschoolers鈥� reactions. The children, huddled around his foam prototype, understand the concept and love it. Calello has a revelation that goes beyond the class assignment: Start a toy company.
鈥淭he idea is nothing,鈥� he says in hindsight. 鈥淓verything else is the hard part.鈥�
For Calello, 鈥渆verything else鈥� spanned a decade of hard work and failed attempts. He gave up not long after graduating from Carnegie Mellon in 1993 when a toy company executive told him the toy would have to be simplified so it could be sold at an appealing price.
Moving on, Calello took a job. Quit. Took another job. Quit again. At his next job, he squeezed in time to plan the company that never left his mind. After about 100 hours, he came up with a name: Automoblox. He quit his job again, this time to pursue Automoblox full-time. He shopped for manufacturers in China and, after settling on one, he found that the models of his toy didn鈥檛 work. He changed toy companies, got married, bought a house, had a baby, and wondered how he would afford to live.
He doesn鈥檛 have to wonder anymore. Automoblox toys have received national media attention, have won numerous awards, and are now sold around the world. 鈥淭he day I delivered the first order for Automoblox to a small toy store in Darien, Connecticut, was a day that rivals only the day that my daughter was born,鈥� he says.
