He spent his first grade of school in nine different schools in nine towns, following his traveling salesman father. But, by the third grade his dad bought three grain elevators near Canton, IL and the moving around was over. Bill Cook spent the rest of ...
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"BoomtownUSA by Jack Schultz" - 5 new articles

  1. Bill Cook Comes Back Home to Canton
  2. Switching to Twitter
  3. Mary Lee Emmert: Remembrances of a son-in-law
  4. Banks Lending More!
  5. Beach Adventure or Women are From Venus, Men are From Mars
  6. More Recent Articles

Bill Cook Comes Back Home to Canton

He spent his first grade of school in nine different schools in nine towns, following his traveling salesman father. But, by the third grade his dad bought three grain elevators near Canton, IL and the moving around was over. Bill Cook spent the rest of his formative years there. At the age of 32, Bill Cook started Cook, Inc with $1,500 in a spare bedroom in a $165/month apartment in Bloomington, IN. Today, Bill Cook is a multi-billionaire, having grown Cook into a leader in the medical device industry.

Cook is best known for his incredible restoration projects in French Lick and West Baden, IN. I’ve written a number of blogs on them, that you can read here.

I was back in Canton this past week doing a talk at their Economic Development annual meeting. I was supposed to do the event in 2008, but was bumped by Bill Cook who was back home in Canton. I would have bumped me, too!

Canton was largely a one industry town, having grown up around The Plow Works, a 33 acre site adjacent to their downtown. Plows were made in Canton from 1852 until International Harvester, which bought the business from the local owners in 1919, closed it down in the early 80s.

Mayor Kevin Meade told me, “The whole town revolved around that plant. Our high school nickname was the Plow Boys and later the Little Giants, named after one of their product lines. The company whistle, which now sits on top of city hall, blew seven times per day and literally ran the whole pace of the town. It was incredibly devastating when they closed down.”

I had visited Canton in the mid 90s to look at the old IH plant and site, but it was well beyond our capabilities at the time. And, today the site still sits there, having gradually been cleaned up from its brownfield status.

And, it might still be an empty site in 2020, but for a letter Mark Rothert, head of ED, wrote to Bill Cook a couple of years ago. Cook invited Rothert and Mayor Meade over to Bloomington to talk about Canton. From that initial meeting and further visits, Cook decided to return home to refurbish the old Randolph Building (shown in picture), a $2 million restoration that opens this month.

Later this year, a new Cook Group factory that will hire 300, opens on the old Plow Works site. My guess is that future investments are on the way for Canton, from the hometown boy who made good and returned home to invest.

After my talk, an elderly lady approached me and said, “I went to school with Bill Cook. We graduated in 1949 and will be celebrating our 60th class reunion in September. I used to date Bill and didn’t think he would ever make more than $1,000/month. I was sure wrong! My one regret in life, is that I wasn’t nicer to him in high school.”

My question to the audience at my talk was, “How many future Bill Cooks do you have in Canton. What are you doing to nurture them into future entrepreneurs? What are you doing to stay in touch with them after they leave home?”

Those are the key questions that every small town should be asking themselves. It could be the difference between having empty buildings and sites, or having vibrant, economic activity in the future.

Switching to Twitter

After sitting out from the blogging scene for several months, I’ve decided to switch more of my energy from blogging to tweeting. I will continue to post some blogs when I have items that I want to expand upon. However, I’ve found that being able to quickly put out a number of items in one day on Twitter allows me to look at more items and is of greater interest.

Since I started blogging in late 2004, I’ve done just under 2,000 blogs. With Twitter, I’ve done over 200 tweets in less than two months.

You can sign up for my twitter account at www.twitter.com/jackschultz.

I also have recently started a facebook page which you can access at http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=635513330

I hope that you will continue to stay in touch and let me know what you are doing in your towns. Feel free to email me at anytime at jschultz@agracel.com.

Mary Lee Emmert: Remembrances of a son-in-law

My mother-in-law, Mary Lee Emmert, passed away this week. Here is what i said about this wonderful woman yesterday at her memorial service.

I want to tell you about a pioneering woman, one of the most amazing people that I’ve met in my life.

Mary Lee Green was born in San Benito, TX. It was always Mary Lee and not just Mary. And, you only called her Mary Lou ONE time!

If you’ve ever driven down into the valley, you’ll have remembered San Benito by its huge water tower with the picture of Freddie Fender, boasting San Benito as his hometown. Last month Mary Lee was talking about that water tower when she was down visiting us, a bit dismayed that Freddie Fender was her hometown’s claim to fame. After she left we thought of renting one of the big billboards along 77 and adding

San Benito
Birthplace of Mary Lee Green Emmert
And in little type… also Freddie Fender

She would have loved it!

The next time you drive down to the valley, please look at that big Freddie Fender water tower and think of Mary Lee’s billboard. I only wish we had time to put it up for her to see!

Because, in our eyes even though Freddie Fender was a character and well known around Texas, our Mary Lee was known in countries far from Texas, but more on that later.

When her mother suffered debilitating health problems and passed away, Mary Lee was raised by her loving father Bill in Sinton. In Sinton, her women role models were Aunt Ruby and Mrs. Landrum who looked after young Mary Lee when her father was working in the oil fields. I wish that I would have known Aunt Ruby and Mrs. Landrum as I’m sure that they would have some rare stories to tell about young Mary Lee. As I reflect upon those days, it must have been tough for her but is also where she developed her determination, independence and willingness to explore everything new whether it was new people, new ideas or even new lands.

One of her proudest moments that she often related to us, was sneaking off with a friend to see the scandalous Elvis Presley at the Corpus Christi Coliseum.

From Sinton, she went to college at Texas A&I, now Texas A&M in Kingsville, where she first met the love her of her life and lifetime partner, Pete Emmert, a bull riding, stereotypical cowboy from Refugio. I believe it was love at first sight or at least that is what I would love to believe.

During summers she worked at the old Liechtenstein Department Store in Corpus, not so much for what she could earn but more for the discount she got on purchases and the interesting people of Corpus that she met.

Pete and Mary Lee were married on January 2, 1957, spending their honeymoon in Monterrey. Pete’s future boss gave them $100 for their honeymoon, quite a sum in those days. Mary Lee thought that they should blow the whole $100 on activities in Monterrey, but Pete was more financially grounded, wanting to save some of the $100. They went home with money in their pockets. It was one of only two arguments I ever heard of her losing.

While Pete was finishing his degree, Mary Lee taught English at a largely Hispanic school in Kingsville, one of the early pioneers of teaching English as a second language. Her pioneering work was starting! Upon Pete’s graduation from A&I, they moved to Las Vegas. But, probably not the Las Vegas you are thinking of, but rather Las Vegas, New Mexico. And, Las Vegas, New Mexico is about as far from Las Vegas, Nevada as you can get. They spell remote there with a capital R!

And, it was not only remote but also cold, VERY cold. I’m certain that the first time that Mary Lee saw snow in her young life in Las Vegas it was exciting. But, by the time her first born Betinha was born in February and Mary Lee had to go into town a week before she was due because of the snow drifts, I’m guessing that the thrill of the white stuff had long passed.

I’m also guessing that it was Mary Lee who found the ad in the Cattleman’s Journal, advertising for ranch managers for new ranches that the King Ranches and Swift Meatpackers were opening in the exotic country of Brazil. Tropical Brazil might be just as remote as Las Vegas, New Mexico but it had to be warmer! A train trip to Chicago for the interview, where the interview of the spouse and their ability to adapt to a strange country and language was as important to Swift-King as the ranching ability of the manager, resulted in a job offer and off they were, on literally “the slow boat to Brazil”, landing there on December 9, 1958.

And, even though the King ranches in Brazil were even more remote than New Mexico, Mary Lee fell in love with them. The hardships of no roads, no electricity or phones didn’t deter her. The fact that it took two to four days, depending upon weather, to drive the 350 miles from Sao Paulo to the ranch, added to the excitement of a new language, new surroundings and of course new friends. I told you she was a pioneering woman!

New children started coming every two years almost like clockwork. After Betinha; Jimmy followed in 1960, then Theresa and finally Michael. With the closest American school that 350 mile drive back to Sao Paulo, Mary Lee again pioneered in homeschooling her four children, decades before homeschooling became a fad. Of course, Mary Lee wasn’t going to be just teaching it strictly by the book. Classes were taught around the swimming pool, heavy on Greek Mythology, Art History, English and Social Studies. Less so on math and science. And, lots on Texas history! Mary Lee was a true Texan at heart and her children were going to learn everything and more that they would if they were at school in the states.

In the beginning, they would take states-side leave every two years, when Mary Lee would plan the usual visits with family and friends and also long sojourns on Padre Island. As important were educational trips that took the family to Colorado, Wyoming, Mexico and of course all over the vast state of her beloved Texas.

I’m told that when the Emmert kids were getting bored on one of these trips, they would make statements like, “Gosh, there are a lot of streets named Sam Houston. Wonder what that guy ever did?” They knew that it was sure to illicit a reaction and a twenty or thirty minute lecture on what this Texas hero had accomplished. There were certain buttons like that which could be pressed, almost guaranteeing a known response.

Mary Lee and Pete’s Brazilian ranching life was a true partnership. While Pete might have earned the paycheck, even he would admit years later that Mary Lee had as much to do with his success as his knowledge of cattle, horses, pastures and ranching. Theirs was a true partnership with Mary Lee taking care of the guest house, visitors and making sure that any cattle or horse buyers felt right at home. Famous international guests like Henry Ford II, Prince of Turin, Daniel Ludwig, and even TV stars like Starsky and Hutch were constant guests. Starsky and Hutch fell in love with Mary Lee’s Texas accent and asked her to read Uncle Remis’ Burr Rabbit to them over and over.

The big event of the year was the annual Leilao or cattle sale when 60 quarter horses and 20 Santa Gertrudes bulls and 65 heifers were sold each year, It was THE event in the cattle business in Brazil. Preparations included finding accommodations for those travelling from afar as well as preparing a churrasco for 800 and a late night dinner/party for 200. All with extreme style and grace.

It was at the Leilao in 1980, that an American farm boy who was raising soybeans in the wild west state of Mato Grosso attended and instantly fell in love with Mary Lee’s oldest daughter, Betinha. As the two began dating and became more serious, Mary Lee tried to dissuade her daughter, warning her, “Do you want to drive a combine for the rest of your life?” Fortunately, Mary Lee lost the second argument of her life.

In 1981 Mary Lee and Pete moved back to the USA, running the Chaparrosa Ranches for B. K. Johnson in LaPryor, TX. They were the same winning team that they had been in Brazil, with Pete running the ranches and business and Mary Lee anything that had to do with marketing, something at which she excelled.

They say that you never want to outlive your children and Mary Lee and Pete suffered when son Jimmy was killed in an auto accident at Sul Ross University in Alpine, TX. Later Pete would suffer through rectal cancer and passed away on December 20, 1993, leaving Mary Lee a widow at only 61. It was a very traumatic time for her and someone of lesser will might have given up on life after losing the love of her life.

But, Mary Lee went pioneering again. She signed up for the Peace Corps and was assigned to the Philippines where she taught English for two years, living in incredibly primitive conditions on less than $100/month. Even though all the rest of the Phillippines Peace Corps were “kids” in her words, they gained a great deal of respect for the “old lady” (their words) from Texas who ended up becoming someone they looked up to, respected and friends until today.

Later, she moved back to the Corpus Christi area, finally landing in Trinity Towers where she didn’t lose her knack for collecting new friends like most of us might collect seashells. Everybody always knew Mary Lee and she made everyone feel as though they were special.

She continued to reunite with her many friends in Texas from her days when Pete was on the Santa Gertrudes board, her Texas A&I days and even from her schoolgirl days in Sinton. She was usually the leader of reunions and get togethers, always taking on new challenges with enthusiasm and wonder.

She was very proud of the accomplishments of her children and grandchildren and delighted in the almost daily calls that she received from her children. She died peacefully this week, a proud, proud Texan.

Banks Lending More!

"Banks need to start lending again!"
That has been the rallying cry from DC, over the past several months. While, I've found that small town banks are carrying on business as usual, the large ones and Wall Street appear to be be frozen up.

As you can see from this graphic from the St. Louis Fed, it is a good thing that the small town banks are still lending and carrying the USA forward.

Perhaps it would help if the national media looked beyond the Beltway and Wall Street for their information.

Beach Adventure or Women are From Venus, Men are From Mars

One of the major attractions of TX to us is the long stretches of virgin beaches and that the state allows you to drive right on the beach, right next to the pounding surf. We took off on Sunday morning from South Padre Island (SPI) up to the Port Mansfield Ship Channel, as far as you can go on the island.

It was a rather cold (mid 60s) morning for SPI, windy and with a fog hanging over the horizon. We were hopeful that as the day brightened, we would see the fog lift and the wind diminish for our romantic, leisurely drive up the beach. We hoped to have a nice picnic lunch, catch some sun and walk on the deserted beach.

It took us a little over an hour to drive the 27 miles up to the ship channel, passing a handful of cars the last half of the journey. A couple of miles back down the beach, Betinha said, “Can you please stop the car.”

And that is where our stories diverge.

Betinha’s version
“Stop the car. I want to walk down the beach to look for shells. You can pick me up in awhile.”

So off I went, walking fast at first but gradually slowing down, wondering where Jack was. I turned around a couple of times in order to walk back but the strong winds (20+ mph) right in the face hurt my ears, so I just kept on walking down the beach. There was no way he could drive past me as there was only one beach and only a small track of packed sand that he could drive on.

And, I kept walking….walking…walking. No Jack! Did he have car trouble? Is he lost in his book? Where is he?

Wish I’d brought my phone or a watch. I wonder how long I’ve walked?

Carrying all of these great shells and the neat message in a bottle, is getting a bit awkward. Hope that he shows up soon. Wish I’d brought some water and my phone. Where can he possibly be?

Jack’s version
“Stop the car. I want to walk into the dunes back there.”

So I pulled over and got out a great book I was reading and didn’t look up from it for over an hour. Hmmm, I wonder why she didn’t come back from the dunes. Oh well, she must be exploring. Back to the book!

Two hours! Maybe I should go out to look for her. Checking her footsteps in the sand (isn’t there a song by that name?), I headed toward the dunes, calling our her name. Remembering her previous warnings about rattlesnakes (BIG rattlesnakes) in the dunes, I walked v-e-r-y carefully, keenly watching for anything that moved, as I climbed up onto the highest dune I could find. Damn, this is a big island! “Betinha!!!”

Nada! Only a howling wind and blowing sand!

Fortunately, the phone worked. “Hello, 911! My wife is lost in the dunes….Ok; I’ll wait here for the park ranger.”

More trips back and forth between the dunes and car with a phone that worked about half of the time because of our remoteness, wondering how we were going to mount a search for her before nightfall, what was I going to tell our boys, thinking about how cold it was out there with that wind blowing, etc. I wasn’t moving the car because I wanted for the trackers to see her footprints in the sand. Hopefully, not her last!

Finally, a park ranger pulled up and asked, “Are you Mrs. Schultz? Can you get in the pick-up truck with me? You know, we’ve lost kids before, but you are the first adult who’s gone missing!”

Finally, a voice mail that they had found her on the beach! Wonder how she found her way out of the dunes?

So I started driving down the beach to meet the park ranger and her. And drove…and drove…and drove.

Four hours after that “Stop the car,” we were reunited. We won’t go into the conversation back down the beach, leaving that to your imagination. Let’s just say that it seemed to be a lot longer drive back down the beach than up to Port Mansfield. The picnic lunch went uneaten.

Later, we tried to figure out if she had walked 12 or 15 miles in those 4 hours. The next morning, Jack had to duck when he asked, “You ready to go for our regular walk on the beach this morning?”

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