He sold lawn care with better flyers than mowing, helped turn a fading pay-per-click business into an agency, then spent thirteen years earning the right to buy it. Troy Lerner's favorite strategy is less glamorous and more useful: put one foot in front of the other.
After nearly two decades inside a Boston agency, Philip Pennellatore bought it, rebuilt it and gave it the name of the Dorchester street where he grew up. The result is a succession story with unusually deep roots.
She began in pharmaceutical sales, learned to make complicated businesses legible, and helped reclaim an agency after a merger went wrong. Today, Judy Capano runs Calcium+Company with the same preference for clarity over theater.

He entered Mintz + Hoke through IT, brought an accountant’s discipline to a creative shop, and stayed for three decades. What followed is a Connecticut agency story about curiosity, continuity, and making room for more people at the table.
The AB&C chief spent years learning how an agency grows, a council governs and a room reaches agreement. His career makes a case for ambition measured in decades, not announcements.
She spent nearly eight years turning an agricultural agency into a national specialist. Her final management decision was the rarest one: handing it over before anyone had to ask.
He arrived in 1990 to make graphics on a computer. Thirty-six years and nearly every agency discipline later, Brent Schott is still betting that fluency beats flash.
After turning a one-person PR shop into a 140-person international agency, the Antenna Group CEO is pressing the climate economy to trade coded language for cost, resilience and enterprise value.

After three decades at Campbell Marketing & Communications, the Detroit executive still prefers curiosity to certainty, teams to corporate-family talk, and the long race to the victory lap.

The Chicago operator spent years turning data into an agency business. Now, as CEO of Manifest, he is making a blunt case for the neglected stretch between brand fame and the final click.

The CEO of G&S built a career by treating curiosity as a discipline. Three decades after choosing agency life over an academic one, Anne Green still leads like a teacher, listens like a counselor, and asks the next useful question.
After 27 years at one agency, Dale Bornstein took a risk on a smaller one. Her bet was that people-first leadership could be a growth strategy - and M Booth's next decade made the case.
The former print and broadcast journalist leads Aspectus Group’s North American business with an editor’s eye, a commercial brief and a stubborn preference for work that can prove its value.

A former band director spent four decades turning rehearsal-room lessons into an agency philosophy. His final act as CEO was the least theatrical one: preparing other people to lead.

A quarter-million-dollar setback pushed a young designer into freelancing. Two decades later, the firm that followed still runs on her first hard lesson: show people the real numbers, remember who helped, and keep moving forward.

After 25 years inside one communications firm, Chris Heaton helped buy it, rename it and hand more authority to the people around him. His operating idea is simple enough to fit on a label: find the purpose first; promotion comes later.
She nearly became a Spanish teacher, learned communications on the auto-show circuit, and returned to the city she missed. At Franco, a job became a stewardship - and eventually an ownership stake in a 62-year-old Detroit institution.
Before she became the owner of a Pittsburgh agency, Erin Stinner learned the weight of a sentence in newsrooms, government offices and a college president's cabinet. Now she has a deceptively plain brief: find the proof, lose the fog and make the next decision easier.
The KPS3 chief came up through design, technology, accounts and strategy. His real operating system is simpler: show people the numbers, trust them with the work, and keep moving.

A career that began with early web companies now runs through AI, IPOs and a 140-person agency. Morris built his case for leadership the unfashionable way: one office, one client and one durable relationship at a time.
After four decades in advertising, The Shipyard's founder is building his second large agency around a stubbornly human idea: data can locate an audience, but only emotion can make it care.

A Buffalo return brought her to Crowley Webb in 2003. One improbable acquisition, a hand-lettered office reminder to “Serve,” and two decades later, she is leading the independent agency into its next forty years.
He arrived at Walker Sands as employee No. 13 with a private three-year plan. A steady climb through PR, a bet on integrated marketing, and a taste for measurable outcomes turned that short experiment into a career running the agency.

From a Toyota planning brief to agency leadership across London, China and New York, Farquhar built a career by translating complexity into decisions - and keeping the audience human.

She helped take The Romans from a two-person Brooklyn outpost to a serious American operation. Her method is disarmingly simple: stay curious, earn attention and never confuse a calendar moment with a relationship.

The New York agency executive has spent two decades turning music, sport and entertainment fandom into an operating system for growth. Her second act with a trusted leadership trio suggests the real product is not attention - it is specialist judgment.

Across 43 years at Luckie & Co., Bobby Luckie rose from the mailroom to the corner office. What colleagues chose to preserve was simpler: his instinct to share.

After three decades spent building healthcare agencies, Leo Tarkovsky has taken on a more exacting problem: helping useful evidence survive the noise between scientific discovery and everyday clinical practice.

After more than 25 years inside large healthcare agencies, Eric Muller has chosen an independent company for his next build. His brief at Lucid Group is to make science, strategy, creativity and technology move as one.
A freelance job in Madrid gave her the pulse of live events. A collapsed employer gave her an opening. Sixteen years later, the company she began at home had become a nearly 100-person experiment in courage, reinvention and letting people draw their own route.