Editor’s Note: Shirin Behzadi’s story begins during the Iranian Revolution and covers her flight to America, her recovery from a tumor in her brain and her eventually success as a CEO. Behzadi, who won a Business Journal Women in Business Award in 2022, last year published a national best-selling autobiography, “The Unexpected CEO; My Journey from Gas Station Cashier to Billion-Dollar CEO.” She says she wrote this book as an inspirational roadmap for others.
A group of young men turned the corner onto our street as I watched from the window of our apartment on the fourth floor. It was apparent that they were running away from the military police.
Pow! Pow!
Gunshots filled the air. The men ran even faster. I knew that if they didn’t find a hiding place, they would be at risk of being shot to death.
Reacting as fast as I could, I ran to the garage opener and clicked it open. With an agile reaction to the opening, they ran into the garage, and I closed it again. My heart was pounding. Were they safe? Would the police follow them? Would anyone know that a 12-year-old had opened the garage door?
Within a few seconds, the police, entering our street with their guns drawn, kept running past the building. The young men were saved! They walked out after a few minutes. They were alive. But I didn’t know for how much longer.
Soon after, Iran’s government collapsed. The monarchy was overthrown, and the revolution began. Streets filled with armed guards who could stop anyone at any time. Friends and family members were arrested and put through makeshift trials.
My father, who had worked his way up to be the CEO and grown his company to thousands of employees, was now at risk because he was part of Iran’s upper class that may question the new government. My father decided not to wait for the regime; he stepped down voluntarily.
By the time I was 17, I had been arrested twice and expelled from my high school after I had complained about how girls were treated. My father had barely escaped arrest. We had learned of many unjust imprisonments. My best friend was sentenced to 10 years in prison. We were living with war and continued chaos and persecution.
We were afraid that if I stayed in Iran any longer, I could be arrested again or killed.
“She’s got to go,” Dad said.
I don’t remember how I finally said goodbye to my father and how he kept it together to see me, his precious daughter, leave. Dad had raised me to speak up and strive for a better life.
He had to send me to a foreign country with little money. My departure from Iran left him shaken and afraid. I wouldn’t see my dad for eight years.
As we were leaving Iranian airspace, I took off my hijab, looked out the window and thought to myself, I don’t think I’ll ever see this beautiful country with its tall mountains and rich nature again.
And I haven’t since.
On a sunny day in 1983, my mother and I arrived in Istanbul. She settled me before she left, and I waited for a visa to the U.S. Instead of political violence and turmoil, there were drug and sex traffickers in this run-down area of Istanbul—dangerous for anyone, let alone unaccompanied Iranian women. In the U.S., my mother connected with a co-founder of the gifted program I had attended in Iran. He became my advocate and found me admission to a California college.
After I finally made it to the U.S., I had to find a way to support myself quickly. When someone mentioned an opening for a gas station cashier, I jumped at the opportunity. The gas station was in a poor and violent area—shootings, muggings, drugs.
As the cashier, I stayed in a bulletproof enclosure where I would process payments. By then, I had endured so many versions of danger that I could fairly easily handle this type of threat. I told one customer that one day I’d run a major company. He chuckled.
By the time I was 26, I had a CPA and worked at EY where I’d travel to respected companies around Southern California. But I was worried. The track before me didn’t look like what I wanted.
I desired a life that included running a large company and having a family. If I stayed as an auditor, neither of those desires would be fulfilled.
I joined The Hammond Company, a mortgage banker where I learned a key lesson: Every problem has a solution. If you haven’t found it, you may not yet understand the problem.
I became the CFO of a relatively large mortgage bank with 22 branches and over one billion dollars in servicing when I was 28 and pregnant. When the bank was sold, I decided to go out on my own to pursue my dream.
One day, I received a call from a franchising company, Budget Blinds, seeking someone to review its accounting system.
What I found was more than an accounting opportunity — it was an entrepreneurial platform.
Franchising is an art and a science. The idea is to create a concept and system that can be taught to others. Interested parties invest in the system and acquire a license to operate a franchise. And of course, franchisees pay franchisors royalties and other fees.
It was clear that the company had a long way to go to create valuations close to the numbers they wanted. They needed experienced financial and operational management.
Though it was much smaller than any company I had audited or managed, something about it intrigued me—it was entrepreneurial.
My gut told me I would be good at it. So, I took another leap of faith. I became its CFO and helped form what eventually became Home Franchise Concepts (HFC).
One day in 2009, I woke up sick. After numerous tests, my doctor told me that I had a brain tumor between my optic nerves. A few days after a 10-hour-long surgery, I had a major setback.
During a test, spinal fluid rushed out of my nose. I was wheeled into surgery again. Doctors warned me that I might lose my life.
The recovery was long and unpredictable, but I refused to let the setback define my life. Two months later, I went back to working part-time.
In 2015, I successfully recruited private equity partners who bought the company, and they asked me to become its CEO.
The principles I learned in life helped me. I did a listening tour of the teams across the organization to redefine the company and its brands. We fundamentally changed everything to build a robust platform of brands, a feat that led to substantial growth and cultural change at the company.
By the time we sold our company in 2019, all our brands were number one in their category. Our franchisees operated out of 12,000 cities and generated nearly $850 million in sales. We more than doubled the company’s value.
I’m proud of this journey. I’m proud to have traveled it with my core principles intact. The gas station attendant ultimately became the CEO.
