Frank Cahouet, the hard-charging optimist

No one at Mellon Bank knew what to expect when Frank Cahouet arrived in 1987. We’d heard he was a no-nonsense “turnaround artist” who’d gained that reputation by having pulled a West Coast bank back from the brink. Back then, “turnaround artist” was code for “cost cutter.”

What we didn’t know was that Frank, one of Pittsburgh’s most intriguing business figures of the past few decades — to whom we bade farewell this week — was really a builder. He was someone who rose abovethe cliched concept of “visionary” to not only have forward-leaning ideas but the ability and will to render them actionable. And, for me,he was a lasting role model.

I was just a touch over 30 when Frank arrived at Mellon in 1987 and I thereafter worked in marketing and communications. Among other things, I would become his speechwriter and the company spokesman. This provided me access through which Frank imparted lessonsI have carried with me through three decades. In turn, I had the privilege of becoming Frank’s interpreter to Mellon’s many constituencies. This required a sort of mind meld (his experienced, mine eager) betweensource and medium.

It worked. Though I was not formally part of Frank’s inner sanctum, my access to him was essentially unlimited. I was young and malleable and, I hope, reasonably skilled at shaping the written and spoken word. He was the hard charging leader.

Along the way, there were layoffs and expense controls and a cultural migration from storied white-shoe financial firm to a more agile, scrappy survivor. There were acquisitions that would reshape the bank ahead of the industry, away from lending and toward fee-based services.

There are snapshots I keep in memory: arriving at a Chicago hotel late one night when only two rooms were left, and Frank’s insisting I take the one with the suite; the early morning flight after an allnight workathon for myself and my team, briefing Frank on plans for that morning’s announcement of the acquisition, in Philadelphia, of PSFS, a large and fabled savings bank, and his satisfied grin as I did so,as if to say, without a word, “Nice work, kid;” and his interrupting his own remarks at a department holiday party to pick up a toothpick from the floor (as if readying it for re-use) and joking self-effacingly, “Wehave to save money.” Thenthere are the many lessons. One late evening, Frank expressed his concern about the pace of change at the company. “We’re just not getting there fast enough,” he said. I replied that people were working hard, giving their best effort, to which he said, matter-offactly, without judgment: “Effort without results is just effort.”

However harsh those words may have seemed then, I have come to adopt them throughout my career. Like Frank, they are straightforward. After all, the names of Stanley Cup runners-up aren’t engraved on the trophy no matter how hard they played.

Another lesson that has stuck with me: Early on, Frank gave me a daunting assignment, and I asked, “When do you need this?” To which he replied, without meanness or condescension: “Never ask me that.” What he meant was, “If, as CEO, I ask you to do something, it means it is important and I want it completed as soon as possible. My asking you to do this is a sign of confidence in you. I trust you to do it well.And quickly.”

I never asked that question again of a CEO. And, since acquiring that and other executive titles myself, I have replayed his words many times to eager staff who have asked thesame question of me.

My time with Frank taught me more than I ever learned in a classroom. As always, the best lessons aresimple:

• Lead by example and never ask anyoneto work harder than you.

• Treat the company’s money like yourown.

• Make the hard decisions and accept the inherent loneliness of leadership.

A couple months ago, I dropped Frank a note after having run into someone with whom we had worked on Mellon’s acquisition of The Dreyfus Corp. in 1994. In writing back, he said kind things and opined that, though we stood at different moments in life, the key thing was that “people at any age stay positive.”

Vintage Frank. Hard-nosed? Yes. Builder? Proven. Mentor? Uh huh, possibly without thinking of it that way. But it was Frank’s optimism that informed all else. The belief that things would work out, and the willto push them, hard.

Optimism may be Frank’s least known— but most lasting — legacy. It’s a big reason why the Mellon name (now appended to BNY) still radiates from atop 500 Grant St., why the heart of an organization in which so many of us take pride still pulses, and why the lessons of a great business leader still apply broadly in life.

May his belief in the inevitability of success live on in all whom he touched.

Thomas W. Butch, a Mt. Lebanon native, is executive vice president of Waddell & Reed Financial in Overland Park, Kansas, and CEO of its Waddell & Reed Inc. subsidiary, with offices nationally, including in Green Tree and Monroeville.