A PHILOSOPHY OF PHILANTHROPY
THE BUSHES CHAMPIONED CHILDHOOD CANCER RESEARCH, LITERACY AND PUBLIC SERVICE
For years, when President George H.W. Bush and first lady Barbara Bush showed up to a party, they caused a stir. And an uptick in funds raised.
Even the most poised social swans would swivel their necks to catch a peek, and a photo. Such was the power of the Bushes.
With last week’s passing of George, only seven months after his beloved wife, Barbara, died in April, Houstonians are mourning the loss of the Bushes in waves. There has been a ripple effect through the political sphere, the literacy community and cheekysock aficionados. But perhaps none will feel their void as deeply as the philanthropic community.
The Bushes were wealthy, certainly. But with an estimated net worth in the $25 million range, they’re not ultra-rich, like some of Houston’s heavy hitters in the philanthropy scene. Not middle class, but not write-checks-first, askquestions-later, either.
As a result, much of the Bushes’ contributions to Houston’s firstrate charity scene relied on their presence as a magnet to other donors. They knew this. And they made it a key component of their strategy to help advance as many causes as possible.
Barbara was a champion of literacy; George believed in the power of public service. As a couple who lost their daughter to leukemia, they threw their tireless support behind the Texas Medical Center’s leading childhood cancer treatment programs.
Literacy
Sue and Lester Smith can’t pinpoint when or how they met the Bushes. But as with many close friendships, the genesis doesn’t matter as much as being there when it counts. The Smiths, well known for their love of ballroom dancing and record-breaking philanthropy, knew that those moments for Barbara revolved around literacy. As a result, the Smiths have regularly opened the ballroom in their Memorial home to host events benefiting the Barbara Bush Houston Literacy Foundation.
When the former first lady couldn’t attend last year’s Celebration of Reading author announcement party at the Smiths’ home — a first for her, amid her declining health — she sent gifts in her stead: a triple-strand of pearls from Barbara’s personal collection for Sue, and a pair of Bush-worn socks lifted from her husband’s dresser drawer for Lester.
Heartfelt keepsakes. But nothing compares to the Bushes’ presence, the promise of which typically attracts a sell-out crowd, hoping for a photo or a handshake.
The Bushes gave more than pearls and socks. In 2016, after meeting with the Houston’s Public Library Foundation’s leadership, the Bushes surprised the foundation with a $500,000 commitment. They knew that using Barbara’s name was the library’s best chance to secure the full $5.5 million needed to complete the capital campaign for what has become the Barbara Bush Literacy Plaza. Sweet, yes. But also deliberate. They’d done this before. In 1999, M.D. Anderson Cancer Center approached the Bushes with an idea: a blowout birthday party for the couple, who were turning 74 and 75 within a week of each other. The party would benefit the cancer center on its quest to fund the George and Barbara Bush Endowment for Innovative Cancer Research.
It was a cause near to their hearts, after the couple lost their 3-year-old daughter Robin to leukemia in 1953.
They accepted with gusto. And what was originally pitched as a $5 million fundraiser blossomed into a $10.1 million birthday extravaganza. Bruce Willis delivered an opening roast. Reba McEntyre sang. The sultan of Oman cut a $100,000 check, and the country of Kuwait gave $1 million. The nightcap? A 100-foot tall fireworks finale that spelled out the evening’s theme, “Milestones & Miracles.”
“They turned everything up to 1,000,” said Pat Mulvey, the hospital’s vice president for development. Such was their way. In the late 1990s and early 2000s, the Bushes regularly offered up their summer home in Kennebunkport, Maine, to help attract mega-donors to M.D. Anderson’s cause. These invitation-only weekend summits weren’t fundraisers, said Mulvey, who instead called them “friendraisers.”
“That stamp of approval and validation by individuals such as President and Mrs. Bush, that’s the icing on the cake,” Mulvey said. “And that allows M.D. Anderson to attract individuals who are philanthropically minded in a significant sense, to become closer to the institution.”
It didn’t stop at opening their home. M.D. Anderson planned to host its 60th anniversary celebration in the fall of 2001. But in the wake of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, organizers worried the nation’s somber mood would affect turnout and funds raised. So Bush picked up his pen. “We can let nothing stand in our way of continuing the fight to eradicate cancer,” he wrote in a letter attached to the hospital’s gala invitation. “Especially not now.”
Showing up was important. So was leading by example.
‘Pitching in’
What literacy was to Barbara, service was to George.
When he was sworn in on the steps of the nation’s capital on Jan. 20, 1989, he spoke of a Thousand Points of Light, “all the community organizations that are spread like stars throughout the Nation, doing good.” In the speech, he promised the American people he would lead a culture of giving.
This was the founding principle for Points of Light, which he launched in 1990, and has since grown to become the world’s largest volunteer organization, engaging 5 million people in 20 million volunteer hours every year.
True to Bush’s words during the inauguration — “The old ideas are new again because they’re not old, they are timeless: Duty, sacrifice, commitment, and a patriotism that finds its expression in taking part and pitching in” — the organization’s founding pillars are mobilizing volunteers, recognizing their good deeds through daily awards and providing global training programs.
Between 1989 and 2011, Points of Light reports that the percentage of Americans volunteering increased by 60 percent from 38 million to 64 million.
And the Bushes were among those numbers.
During her husband’s first year in office, Barbara caught wind that some of the shopping malls in Washington, D.C., would not allow the Salvation Army to display their kettles or post bell-ringing volunteers outside stores. That just wouldn’t do.
“She volunteered to ring the red kettle, and put in the first donation,” said Major Melody Davis, associate area commander of the Salvation Army of Greater Houston.
It was only $10. But the message was clear.
“That changed the minds of several vendors,” Davis said. “That just kind of spread all over. It helped everybody.”
Decades later, after the Bushes returned to Houston, history repeated itself.
“We had a Salvation Army kettle bell out here one day, and they came out and worked it for an hour,” Gallery Furniture owner Jim “Mattress Mack” McIngvale said Tuesday. “They congratulated people who came by and gave money as they rang the bells. And they treated everyone the same, whether it was a million-dollar donor, or someone parking cars.”
The kettle poured over that day, reaching $90,000 in donations, thanks to the Bushes and a $50,000 personal donation from McIngvale in their honor.
McIngvale has many stories like this.
“He was such a gracious man. And he and Mrs. Bush were certainly a team,” he said. “They never turned down a worthy cause. And they really set the standard for philanthropic activities in Houston, Texas. And there’s certainly a hole in the world now that they’re gone.” Big socks to fill, if you will. A legacy. But George would hate to think of it that way.
“He did not like the word ‘legacy.’ He never liked using that word. It was called the ‘L word,’ ” said David Jones, CEO of the George H. W. Bush Presidential Library Foundation. “He would say, ‘Don’t use the ‘L Word!’ and among the people who worked for him, it became kind of a joke.”
Like it or not, his legacy is something that his children and grandchildren take very seriously. His son Neil, who lives in Houston, is the chairman of the Points of Light board of directors, as well as director of the Bush School of Government and Public Service at Texas A&M University, and a member of the Salvation Army’s board of directors. Neil’s wife, Maria Bush, formed the Barbara Bush Houston Literacy Foundation’s Ladies for Literacy Guild and actively volunteers with Houston Methodist Hospital. Their son, Pierce, is CEO of Big Brothers Big Sisters Lone Star and met his wife, Sarahbeth at a volunteer gig.
And while former president and first lady George W. and Laura Bush live in Crawford, they have recently begun making more regular appearances in Houston to fill the philanthropic void. This June, George W. took the stage at the Holocaust Museum Houston’s annual Lyndon Baines Johnson Moral Courage Award Dinner, tripling the night’s fundraising goal with his presence. And after her mother-in-law’s passing, Laura gave a fireside chat this October at the BBHLF’s third annual Power of Literacy Luncheon, helping bring in $350,000 that day.
Things will be different now, for sure. But there are still so many points of light in Houston.
“I think there will certainly be a void. And I think people will step up to fill it,” McIngvale said Tuesday. “But they’re some mighty big shoes.”
“Think about every problem, every challenge, we face. The solution to each starts with education.” – George H.W. Bush “No genteration can escape history.” – George H.W. Bush