I still remember the feeling of those days at Albertsons when a recall hit. We managed around 250 a year, and each one felt like a fire alarm. The phones would start ringing. Teams scrambled to find item numbers, store lists, supplier contacts. Everyone wanted answers. There was no central dashboard or instant alerts. We had binders, fax machines, and a lot of late nights.
In those moments, you’re so deep in the details that it’s easy to lose perspective. You’re chasing information, coordinating logistics, and trying to stay ahead of the next question from an executive or regulator. Looking back, I realize there are things I would have done differently. So if I could do a little time-traveling back to 1995, here’s what I’d tell my younger self.
The first thing I’d say is to build relationships before the crisis hits. I had strong supplier connections, but we didn’t always talk about recalls until one happened. If I could go back, I’d pick up the phone earlier. I’d ask suppliers to walk me through their process or even include me in their mock recalls. We could have established expectations together instead of discovering them under pressure.
The second thing I’d remind myself is that clarity beats control. When you’re managing a recall, the instinct is to control every detail. But what people really need is clear, honest communication. Even when all the facts aren’t in yet, sharing what you know, what you’re doing, and what comes next makes everyone stronger. It reduces confusion and builds trust.
I’d also tell myself to focus on systems. Back then, data lived in file cabinets or spreadsheets. Today, we have digital tools that make it easier to maintain and access data in real time. Even without those tools, focusing on organization, documentation, and accessibility would have helped reduce the chaos. A strong system keeps information ready to move, so the right people get it, fast.
A real shift for me, though, came years later when I started seeing recalls as consumer events, not only business events. Recalls start in corporate offices somewhere, or a warehouse or retailer, but they end in people’s homes. A parent checking the pantry. A customer reading a label. That’s who we’re working for.
Every recall is a chance to protect someone’s health, maybe even their life. That perspective impacts everything. It impacts how you talk to your team. It impacts how you plan with suppliers. It impacts how you handle stress when the next recall comes in. It impacts the tools you prioritize – and this isn’t a sales pitch. Honestly, it’s why I built Recall InfoLink. I wanted to take what I learned in those early days and make the process simpler, faster, and more human.
If I could sit across from my younger self today, I’d say this: never lose sight of who’s at the other end of that recall notice. Your recall needs to reach them and enable them to act. Because behind every recall is a human story, and that’s what should guide us.
