By Justin Schofield, Valentine-Cosman Research Fellow at The Strong National Museum of Play
Growing up, my brother and I played a computer game called Just Grandma and Me, a virtual book that reads to you and allows you to interact with the illustrations. I used to scramble off the bus to boot it up after school, and my brother and I listened to it together countless times.

At the time, I didn’t think of Just Grandma and Me as educational nor did I know that Brøderbund, the publisher, was changing the way children played and learned with their new “edutainment” software. All I knew was that I was having fun.
This past July, under The Strong Museum’s Valentine-Cosman Fellowship, I researched the history of Brøderbund with the goal of creating a short documentary of the company’s history. I was surprised to learn that they were responsible for a game that held so many memories for me and was also able to play and experience many of the other games and developments that Brøderbund offered from the early 80s to the late 90s. I read through correspondence to and from Brøderbund founder Doug Carlston, original licensing agreements between Brøderbund and its early partnerships, and company memos. These historical artifacts tell the story of three siblings who, hoping to sell their own software, ended up creating one of the largest software publishers in America.
The short documentaries I produce on my YouTube channel have covered topics ranging from the history of Pokémon Snap to interviews with Donkey Kong 64 music composer Grant Kirkhope, and art director Mark Stevenson. My research typically involves interviews with influential game contributors and a whole lot of internet sleuthing. My time at The Strong Museum was my first encounter with in-person archival work, which allowed me to develop a deeper understanding of the history of Brøderbund. In particular, I was struck by the humanity of the company, showcased in marginal notes on budget meetings and inside jokes in emails to coworkers.

According to the company biography, Doug Carlston, founder of Brøderbund, practiced law in Chicago until 1979 when he was “bitten by the bug” that was home computing. Like many people who love gaming, Carlston wanted to make a career out of play. He began writing games, including his first commercially successful games Galactic Empire and Galactic Trader for the TRS-80.
In a letter to a family member, Doug wrote, “Once we get about three more games, we should become our own publishers. After all, my games sell for $15, of which I get $3. Since the cassettes cost less than $.50 each when purchased in quantity, the only other major costs of production are in designing and printing the packaging and instructions, advertising and labor. . . And remember, Scott Adams, my Florida distributor, started writing games himself 2 years ago and has already sold over 30,000 of them. A living could be made.”
Doug couldn’t act alone however, and recruited the help of his brother, Gary. Gary lived a different life than Doug, having graduated from Harvard with a B.A. in Scandinavian literature, a hint as to where the name “Brøderbund” came—”broder” meaning “brother” in Scandinavian languages and “bund” meaning “alliance” in German. Gary’s company bio described him as having an “agile often humorous intellect” and that his main concern at Brøderbund was “making games fun.”

Doug and Gary also convinced their sister Cathy to join the company as first Director of Marketing and later Vice President of Educational Marketing Planning. Cathy helped market some of Brøderbund’s most monumental titles, including Lode Runner and Print Shop. Though Cathy and Gary both left the company in 1989, their contributions to Brøderbund were pivotal to the company becoming the software juggernaut it became in the 90s.
Brøderbund’s first financial statement showed a loss of over $1,000, with Doug writing a note on the top of the document (bolded and scribbled under) saying, “we’re in the RED.” By the end of its third year in operation, though, Brøderbund had moved from Eugene, Oregon to Marin County, California, had grown to more than 40 employees, and was selling “millions of dollars’ worth of software annually” according to a company handbook.
We can take a look at financial fact sheets and budgets all day long, but truly, the notes, memos, and panicked scribbles on a financial statement tell the story of a company with real people behind the scenes, something I believe is easy to lose sight of without access to the documents and personal notes that breathe life into its history. “The bureaucrats in accounting are at it again! Due to the high number of ‘I need it an hour ago’ check requirements, we are forced to implement a policy where we will require the enormous lead time of 24 hours to process check requests,” reads a memo that was sent to all employees on January 18, 1983, in an attempt to curb some unwanted behavior in regards to check requests. Other notes and memos show what the industry was like in the 80s, perhaps just as cutthroat, with Doug receiving a letter in 1987 with a written note saying, “More BS from EA!” regarding a licensing dispute between EA and Origin Systems Inc. Brøderbund also discussed an acquisition of Sierra On-line, an equally large software publisher known for titles such as King’s Quest, Leisure Suit Larry, 3-D Ultra Pinball, and more, with Sierra On-line sending over a Proposed IPO.
It’s easy to get lost in the numbers, how many copies a certain game sold, and how well the company performed on an annual basis. While these are certainly important aspects of the story of Brøderbund, the personal aspects are what truly make a good story.

Whether it’s taking a trip to Japan and holding a “Historical and Cultural Issues Relevant to Our Itinerary” meeting, deciding between a company retreat and dental care, or learning how well the company softball team (the Brøderbund Blazers) played, each “unimportant” document helps to form a story surrounding not just a company but a team of real people.
Thanks to the research I was able to do under the Valentine-Cosman Fellowship, my upcoming video, which will be published on YouTube@videogamedocs, will be better informed by the human side of game creation. This is the history of how three siblings in the 80s brought a well-loved game to two young brothers in the early 2000s.
