Subway announced that it is selling itseIf to Roark Capital, a private equity firm whose two holding companies already own an impressive collection of fast-food chains. Roark-owned brands include Dunkin’, Carvel, Jimmy John’s, Arby’s, Cinnabon, and Buffalo Wild Wings–and that’s just a partiaI list.
Subway is owned by the families of Fred DeLuca and Peter Buck, who founded the chain in 1965. At the time, Buck was 34. DeLuca was 17 and trying to raise money for college. Buck Ient him $1,000 and suggested they start a sandwich shop.
DeLuca passed away in 2015 and Buck di ed in 2021, but Subway remained a family owned business until now. It must have been a wrenching decision to give up ownership of the chain. But however they may feel about it, the families seem to have negotiated the best possibIe deal for the chain. Every business owner looking to sell can learn from their approach.
Our story begins back in February, when the families hired JPMorgan Chase as an adviser to explore a sale. At the time, the families reportedIy wanted $10 billion for one of the world’s two largest fast-food chains.
But it’s been a bad year for acquisitions so far, and some observers noted that the chain has been losing ground to newer rivaIs such as Firehouse Subs in recent years. With its shares of U.S. sandwich sales down from 34 percent in 2017 to 23 percent today, some questioned whether Subway was really worth $10 billion.
Woman Unearths Astonishing Secret After Tracking Twin Girls Who Sit Unaccompanied in Park Each Night
Every night, Colleen saw twin girls in shabby clothes sitting alone in the park. When her curiosity got the best of her and she followed them, she stumbled upon a heartbreaking secret that would alter her life forever.
Hi, everyone! I’m Colleen, 32 years old and still single. No kids yet, though I’ve dated my fair share of guys. I love kids so much and can’t wait to have my own, but it’s so hard to find true love these days. But hey, no rush.
I decided to wait for the right man, unaware that my life would change in ways I never imagined.
It all began when I saw twin girls, about 8 years old, in old shabby clothes sitting on the same bench in the park where I walked my dog. Their eyes, filled with a haunting sadness, drew me in each evening as they sat alone on the same bench. No parents or adults were ever around, and their loneliness was palpable.
One evening, the chill in the air was sharper, and the girls were there again, shivering in their old jackets.
The streetlights flickered on as darkness crept in. My concern grew unbearable, and I decided to discreetly follow them to see who would come for them.
As the sun began to set, the girls stood up, holding each other’s hands tightly. They walked with hesitant steps and left the park alone. My worry deepened with every step they took, and I followed them, determined to ensure their safety.
To my surprise, they boarded a bus, looking even smaller and more vulnerable under the harsh fluorescent lights. I followed them and noticed how they huddled together and whispered softly. They traveled nine stops and each mile made my anxiety grow.
When they finally got off, I was stunned beyond words because they walked into a wealthy neighborhood. The contrast between their appearance and the grand houses around them was jarring. They approached a particularly large home and entered without hesitation.
I stood there, frozen in disbelief. What was going on? Why were these clearly neglected girls living in such an affluent area? Something didn’t add up, and my gut told me I needed to investigate further.
Taking a deep breath, I walked up to the house and rang the doorbell. A maid answered, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone clipped.
“Yes, I’d like to speak with the parents of the twin girls who just came in,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
The maid hesitated, then nodded. “Wait here, please.”
Five long minutes passed before a man appeared at the door. His expensive suit and cold demeanor screamed wealth and indifference.
“What do you want?” he snapped.
I swallowed hard. “Sir, I’m concerned about your daughters. I’ve seen them alone in the park every evening, and it’s not safe—”
He cut me off. “That’s none of your business. Don’t show up here again.” The door slammed in my face.
I walked away, my mind racing. Something was very wrong here, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that those girls needed help.
The next day, I went to the park earlier than usual. Around 4 PM, the twins appeared, settling onto their usual bench. Gathering my courage, I approached them.
By choosing to get involved, I not only changed the lives of two wonderful little girls but also found a love and purpose I never knew I was missing.
To the people reading this, I urge you: if you see something that doesn’t seem right, speak up. You never know whose life you might change.
Leave a Reply