Ringleader of fun

Scott Robertson remembers growing up on his family's farm in Kentucky and marveling at the way auctioneers sold tobacco and cattle.

“I was amazed at how they controlled the crowd,” Robertson recalls. “I'd always wanted to go to auctioneer school.”

Robertson, now 52, attended auctioneer school in 1992 while he was teaching industrial arts to high school students. For practice, he would help charities raise money.

Today, Robertson is one of just 30 auctioneers in the nation who focuses full-time on charitable fundraising. In 2012, Robertson conducted 62 auctions and raised $15 million.

Robertson, who lives in the island hamlet of Matlacha near Cape Coral in Lee County, is well known on the Gulf Coast for his careful preparation, polished auctions and colorful tuxedo vests. His nickname is “ringleader of fun.”

But it wasn't until 2010 that Robertson made benefit auctions a full-time profession. He left teaching in 2000 and joined a commercial real estate firm, staging benefit auctions on a part-time basis.

By 2010, many charities in Southwest Florida had cut back their budgets and they were eager to replenish their coffers. Robertson found he could make a full-time living doing what he'd always wanted. “They needed a fundraising auctioneer more than ever,” he says.

Fact is, wealthy retirement areas such as Fort Myers and Naples have many generous donors. “We're in a very nice area for fundraising,” Robertson says.

Robertson says he can afford to be choosy. “I will only work for charities if I support their cause,” he says. He declines to say how much he charges because it varies from one auction to another, but it's usually a flat fee, sometimes with an incentive bonus or a percentage of sales.

However, Robertson says he travels for auctions too, including one recently in San Diego. “They pay my expenses and I charge more when I go out of town,” says Robertson.

Robertson says people are more willing to spend today because of the improvements in the economy, the stock market and real estate. “Spending money at auction is all about confidence in your own portfolio of wealth,” he says.

And more people are attending benefit auctions today than they did during the downturn. “It's just more solid all around,” he says.

Robertson does his homework before every auction. He finds out who the key donors are and makes sure the items being sold are appropriate for the audience. “We don't want buyers' remorse,” he says. “I only pressure people to their comfort level; I watch their body language.”

To stay in shape, Robertson swims regularly. “You've got to look good in a tux,” he says. And he doesn't drink or tell jokes. “Every place I go it's a party, but I'm the sober one there.”

The best auctions are the ones that raise money for a specific goal. For example, a food pantry might need a van to deliver goods. “People want to see the results,” Robertson says. “No one wants to shovel money into a general fund.”

A well-managed benefit auction usually starts when everyone's seated and there are no distractions on the stage. It's held in a different room from where cocktails are served. “The buffet is a bad idea,” Robertson says, who wears one of 30 flamboyant tuxedo vests so people keep their eyes on him.

Robertson ends the auction no later than the last entree is finished. Like TV dinners, people pay attention while they're eating. “When people stop eating, they wander off,” he says. “I've never finished an auction too early.”

Robertson uses his own microphone and he'll start whispering or moving around the room if he senses he's losing the crowd's attention. “I've got a tool bag full of tricks,” he chuckles.