They started with a simple idea and a stubborn streak — a Buffalo entrepreneur who in 1945 turned a soy-based experiment into the first non-dairy whipped topping and then built an empire from the ground up. That kind of American grit, the willingness to tinker in a garage or a kitchen and turn it into worldwide commerce, is what made a hometown maker into a global supplier.
Today that business brings in billions and the family that built it is refusing to sell out to Wall Street suits who would hollow it out for a quick profit. Forbes reports Rich Products pulls in roughly $5.8 billion a year, and the chairman, Bob Rich Jr., along with Mindy Rich, make clear the company will remain privately held and run on family terms — not on the quarterly whims of activist investors. That commitment to private ownership and long-term stewardship is a patriotic act in an age where every successful American firm is eyed like prey.
Bob Rich Sr. didn’t just make desserts — he made history, buying the naming rights to the new Bills stadium in 1973 and ushering in the era of corporate stadium branding. That deal, a $1.5 million commitment at the time, was one of the first of its kind and it put a locally built business front and center for an entire region. It’s worth remembering that small-business risk and civic pride once went hand in hand before naming-rights became a tool for faceless corporations and CEOs seeking headlines.
Now that stadium — once proudly called Rich Stadium — is set to be torn down after this season, a reminder that even durable local institutions eventually face the wrecking ball of progress and commerce. Buffalonians will have to say goodbye to a structure that carried decades of memories, and the family’s name that once adorned it will live on through the business rather than on a sign. The bittersweet end of an era is exactly the sort of story that should make Americans think twice about the value of local legacy versus disposable corporatism.
What conservatives should celebrate here is not nostalgia alone but the principle: ownership matters, continuity matters, and families who keep businesses private preserve jobs and local character. Rich Products didn’t just survive lawsuits and the changing tides of industry — it grew by buying smart brands, expanding into seafood, bakery, and ice cream, and supplying everyday staples to retailers and restaurants nationwide. That diversified, quietly strategic growth is the opposite of woke virtue-signaling corporate bandwagoning; it’s plain business done well.
The Riches have shown that you can build a global business without selling the soul of it, and that should be a model for patriotic entrepreneurs across America. Instead of bowing to Big Money, they’ve chosen stewardship, pride in place, and a willingness to keep decisions close to home — values that sustain communities and reward hard work. If we want to keep America prosperous, we should back more family-run firms that think in decades, not in the next quarterly earnings call.
