We’ve all seen it before: the tale of the gauzy self-made business entrepreneur swept into fame and wealth, touting a name for themselves, only for it all to come crashing down suddenly. In their joyride, the protagonist figure realizes that beneath the world of dizzy glitters, there’s a saddened space of existence reality awaiting, of gaping shadows where life isn’t as pleasing as it seems to be. 

Experiencing poverty is, without a doubt, a challenging feat in itself. Being born into it, experiencing success, fame, then losing it all and falling back into poverty is what must be especially difficult. Where the majority see this cliche in fiction or television, some are unfortunate enough to experience it firsthand.

This is the story of Wally Amos, of the Famous Amos fame.

Who is “Famous” Amos?

When it comes to feelings about Famous Amos, I imagine people typically fall into one of three groups:

The first group—being made up of mostly young people (probably; I’ve no data)— has zero knowledge of the brand at all. If the name doesn’t conjure visions of second-rate vending machine options (D4 at best), then you’re likely in this group. 

The second group knows of Famous Amos and is familiar with its underwhelming status as a dollar store checkout counter snack food. Reasonable.

But the third group has a different view of the matter. A much more romantic take on the treat. Because this group remembers Famous Amos as a mouthwatering gourmet delicacy. A top-shelf cookie purveyor with an outspoken, charismatic owner in Wally Amos.

Why such a harsh disparity? How can a company less than 50 years old have such contradicting reputations among different generations?

There was a time, just a few decades ago, when Amos was a household name. A successful brand with big-name celebrity investors, upscale distribution, and a first-year total sales revenue of $300,000. 

But by the mid-80s, the brand was hemorrhaging money. Amos would lose his house and eventually sell a majority stake of the company. Many people were left to wonder: How did one of the most successful snack companies of the last decade so quickly decay into financial shambles?

How did Amos find himself on the butt-end of a bad break? 

These are interesting questions, and sure to be answered. But first, it’s worth understanding Famous Amos’ rise to popularity, understanding what made this gourmet cookie company so successful, so, well— I’m not gonna say it, I am not going to—famous.

Wally Amos’ Rise to Fame

Wally Amos came from a classically humble upbringing, born in 1936 in Tallahassee, Florida, to poor, illiterate parents. At age 12, he moved to New York to live with his Aunt Della. It was here that he learned of the famous recipe. (More on this in a bit.)

Amos, who dropped out of high school, would receive his G.E.D. after joining the Air Force. Returning to New York as a mature, educated man, he found work in the William Morris Agency, a Hollywood-based talent agency once considered “the best in show business.” 

He began in the mailroom, eventually working his way up to becoming the first black talent agent in the entertainment industry. 

This was more than just a side-quest for an aspiring baker; Amos now headed the rock’n’roll department at William Morris, where he signed Simon and Garfunkel and worked with Motown legends like Diana Ross, Sam Cooke, and Dionne Warwick. 

It was only after growing disillusioned with the industry that Amos sought refuge in his aunt’s baking once more. 

Wally’s son, Shawn Amos, said:

“Cookies were a hobby to relieve stress.”

It wasn’t long before the cookies took the main stage. 

Amos told The New York Times in 1975:

“I’d go to meetings with the record company or movie people and bring along some cookies, and pretty soon everybody was asking for them.”

Amos’s connection with the entertainment business helped his business aspirations tremendously. He received significant contributions from industry stars Marvin Gaye and Helen Reddy, who gave Amos $25,000 for his new venture. 

In 1975, Amos launched his first brick-and-mortar location. 7181 Sunset Blvd. in Los Angeles. 

And it was a big deal. The grand opening was a star-studded gala attended by 1,500 people. 

Success was sudden. After selling $300,000 worth of cookies in its first year, the brand continued to climb in popularity. By 1982, Famous Amos was making $12 million in yearly revenue. 

Famous Amos’s success was the result of exploiting a hole in the market. In the mid-70s, the grocery store shelves were loaded with preservative-dependent snack options. Amos carved out a lucrative niche by marketing the product as a gourmet, zero-preservative, craft-made cookie. A risk well rewarded.

From “What’s Going On?” to “What’s Going On???”

With any great market advancement, a plethora of eager competitors emerge. And shortly after arriving on the scene, Famous Amos was met with rival brands like Mrs. Fields, and new, upmarket product lines from Nabisco and Duncan Hines. 

Combining these market competitors and Amos’s inability to keep up with his success led to the first cracks in the business. By 1985, Famous Amos reported a $300,000 loss on sales of $10 million.

Later that year, Amos officially gave up the reigns of his company, selling a majority stake to Bass Brothers Enterprises for $1.1 million.

Two years later, the new owners upended the recipe entirely, adding preservatives and shelf-stable ingredients. Famous Amos was rebranding as an affordable brand. It wasn’t entirely unexpected; such mission-statement-defying practices are common for newly bought companies, but the decision prompted original owner Wally Amos to depart. 

In 1992, President Baking Company bought Famous Amos for $61 million—more than 55 times what Wally Amos sold his controlling stake for just a few years earlier. 

Amos wasn’t through with the cookie business, however. Later in 1992, he launched his new venture…

And was promptly sued. 

Turns out: the latest Amos product— Wally Amos Presents Hazelnut Cookies— stood in direct violation of the contract he had signed years prior when selling his first business. The one that expressly prohibited Amos from using his own name and likeness in the selling of any product.

Undeterred, he changed the name of his company, operating instead as Uncle Nonamé. Boldness had treated him well in the past— and I think it’s an undeniably ballsy way to approach being sued over your own identity— but the market operates in mysterious ways. In 1996, Uncle Nonamé filed for bankruptcy. 

What Became of Wally Amos?

By 1999, Amos was in talks with Keebler, the new owner of Famous Amos. An agreement had been reached: Wally Amos would become a paid spokesperson for the brand under the condition that they craft the recipe closer to the original. 

And it feels like a solid ending to the story. The sweet embrace of a father and son after a long, arduous journey, complete with lawsuits, bankruptcies, and foreclosure. Ending up together would be fitting— if a bit too good to be true.

“It was bittersweet,”

says his son, Shawn Amos.

“He was happy to be back in the center of the brand he started, but he also had a hard time accepting the fact that at the end of the day, he was just a paid spokesperson.”

The feeling of being alienated from one’s own brainchild eventually led to a short-lived reunion between Amos and the brand that bears his name. 

After leaving once and for all, Amos pivoted to making muffins with Uncle Wally’s Muffin Co., opening a bake shop in Hawai’i.

Amos wrote multiple books about his experience over the years, including Power In You, Man With No Name: Turn Lemons into Lemonade, and The Famous Amos Story: The Face That Launched 1,000 Chips. He has also been a vigorous advocate for literacy and was granted a National Literacy Honors Award by President George H.W. Bush.

At age 80, Amos appeared on the hit television show, Shark Tank, pitching another new business, “The Cookie Kahuna”. The business ultimately failed.

In 2017, he launched a GoFundMe, announcing he was struggling to pay for food, gas, and rent.

No longer famous, Wally Amos continues on with his baking and entrepreneurial spirit. His life is a statement of hard work and resilience, but also a cautionary tale about success, hubris, and the risks we make along the way.