COMMON GROUND: The Oracle of Omaha

THE BATBOY

“Do you know the name of the batboy for the New York Yankees in 1927?” Warren Buffett asked my husband Tom at a political fundraiser in 2002. Of course he didn’t, so Mr. Buffett explained why it mattered. He was doing some research for his annual shareholder letter and had just reached out to the Baseball Hall of Fame to find out the name of the boy who handed the bats to Lou Gerig and Babe Ruth. His name was Eddie Bennett. Warren Buffett told Tom that he thinks his work as a businessman and investor is a lot like Eddie’s job as batboy. “I hand the bats to the guys who hit the home runs.”

“I hand the bats to the guys who hit the home runs” - Warren Buffett

Many years later, in 2014 Tom was reading Iowan, Bill Bryson’s book, One Summer, America 1927 and came across the story of Eddie Bennett, who had been batboy for the White Sox when they won the pennant in 1919 and for the Dodgers in 1920 when they also won the pennant. “By 1927 he was one of the most valued figures in baseball,” said Bryson. Yankees owner, Jacob Ruppert saw him as a good luck charm and invited him to join the Yankees. They beat Tom’s team, the Pittsburgh Pirates, in the World Series that year, 4-0. In 1927, Babe Ruth broke his own home run record with 60 homers. Gerig hit 47.

I first met Warren Buffett when I accompanied Tom and Lieutenant Governor Sally Pederson to a meeting at a non-descript Holiday Inn for breakfast one morning in Omaha soon after their election in 1999. We got there first, so I had a chance to watch one of the richest men in the world walk in. He looked like my dad in a London-foggish raincoat and a Bear Byrant hat. No one looked up.

I was there to listen, but I did let Mr. Buffett know that I had just read Katherine Graham’s memoir, Personal History and was interested to learn how much she valued his friendship and mentorship when she assumed leadership of The Washington Post. He affirmed his respect for her and noted how difficult it was for her to compete in the news business run primarily by men.

Shortly afterward, I agreed to attract some contributions for DAWN, an Iowa affiliate of Emily’s List. Tom and I had met Des Moines businesswoman and donor, Louise Noun, during his campaign, so I decided to start by asking her for a thousand dollars that I could use as leverage with my list of 10 women recruits. I was First Lady of Iowa. I thought I might have some clout. I should have known better. Our conversation went something like this. “All of you come to me first. I’m not going to be around forever. You need to come to me for the last dollar, not the first dollar.” Saying I got a scolding is putting it mildly.

WARREN BUFFETT’S $1000 CHECK

Taken aback but undaunted, I decided to write Warren Buffett a letter asking him for a thousand dollars. I explained my idea for asking ten Democratic women for a hundred dollars for DAWN, telling them that Warren Buffett would match their hundred with a hundred dollars of his own.

The check arrived! At the time I wasn’t sure why, but with his help, I convinced 10 women to contribute, then I went back to Louise Noun, who also contributed. I was pleased with my entrepreneurial effort.

Having grown up in a small town, I’d sold Girl Scout cookies and I’d gone trick-or-treating for UNICEF as a child. When I returned home as an adult, I chaired Daffodil Days for the Cancer Society, but I’d never asked anyone for more than twenty-five dollars in my life. Politics changed that.

When I started raising money for my Literacy Initiative as First Lady, our good friend John Flannery, who worked for Verizon, took me to Texas to meet the people who ran their foundation. Verizon was designating literacy champions in each state, and John thought my ideas for supporting libraries and giving books to kindergarteners would appeal to them. “Just don’t ask them for money,” he advised.

I explained what I wanted to accomplish in Iowa. They explained their national literacy campaign and asked if I’d like to be their Iowa literacy champion. Of course, I did. Then the executive director said, “You forgot to ask us for money!”

“I get to ask you for money?” I blurted out looking sideways at John. He nodded. Over time they gave me over $50,000 for books.

“TAKE A BREATH AND ASK FOR $25,000”

Later, they sent one of their fundraisers, Lance Crissman, a nice young man originally from Newton, Iowa to help me raise enough money to give every kindergartener an Iowa book each year. I will always remember Lance’s advice: “It’s no harder to ask for $25,000 than it is to ask for $25. Either way, it feels bad when they say no, so just practice saying, “twenty-five (take a breath) thousand”.

Books and ice cream go well together, so I decided to ask Wells Blue Bunny, a good Iowa company, to be my partner. Lance traveled with me to LeMars to talk with Dave Smetter, who headed up their charitable giving. I took a deep breath and asked him for $50,000. He turned me down. Instead, he gave me $5000. In fact, every year for the next five years he gave me $5000 and free ice cream for events.

Stories 2000 gave books to 40,000 kindergarteners each year from 2002-2006. The Rotary Clubs of Iowa and Verizon were my major donors. Smaller donors are too many to mention, but Caseys, Kum and Go, IBP and Farm Bureau come to mind. It wouldn’t have occurred to me to ask them for political contributions, but for Iowa’s kids they came through as did many across the political spectrum.

Since those early days, I’ve had to raise “a lotta money” for a lot of reasons. When I tell the Warren Buffett story to professional fundraisers, they hoot with laughter. “You asked one of the richest men in the world for a thousand dollars?” they guffaw, then double over. “Well, that’s all I needed at the time,” I tell them. Now I understand. The Oracle of Omaha handed me the bat.

After I finished my stint as First Lady, I got a call from the Susan Thompson Buffett Foundation, a memorial foundation to honor Warren Buffett’s wife, who had been a champion of women’s reproductive health. The foundation wanted to do research in Iowa and Colorado to find ways to reduce the number of unintended pregnancies among adult women 18-30. They asked if I’d help set up The Iowa Initiative and become its executive director for the three-year duration of the research. As an educator, I saw it as an opportunity to assure that young adult men and women get a chance at an education. I get a kick out of thinking that I ended up working for one of the Buffett family’s foundations eight years after we met, whether he knew I was there or not.

WHEN HE WALKS INTO THE ROOM…

I’d like to think that Mr. Buffett saw something in me that I didn’t yet see in myself when I asked him for that first $1000. I think he sees potential in opportunities large and small. He’s willing to hand the bat to the Lou Gerigs and Babe Ruths of the world, but he also hands bats to everyday people who exemplify the work ethic that defines him.

Over time I learned how to ask for money without overreaching and how to work with people who don’t see eye-to-eye with me. Probably the best lesson I learned was watching how Warren Buffett walks into a room. No one looks up, but everyone looks up to him. In a time when superficiality reigns, he has no time for it.

People respect his advice. He writes his annual shareholder letter as if he’s explaining investing to his sisters, because he sees them as partners. Long ago he handed me the bat, and I’m grateful for the opportunities it gave me. As he retires, I imagine a lot of Americans feel the same.