As a starting
forward for the Newman High School basketball team in 1960-61,
young Bill Goldring learned some important lessons about competition
and teamwork from the Greenies' brand-new head coach, Ed Tuohy.
The lessons stuck. The team posted a perfect record and won the
state championship.
Tuohy long ago became a legend in Louisiana high school athletics.
The Newman gymnasium bears his name, and he influenced hundreds
of athletes whose careers span decades in and out of sports.
Bill Goldring is one of them. And for a while, winning that
state championship was the defining moment of his life.
Until he turned 21. On that day, his father, Stephen Goldring,
gave him a letter that he obviously had composed with great
care. It was the only letter he ever wrote to his son.
"In a few days you will be twenty-one years old," the letter
begins. "This birthday is important. ... You must stand and
be counted. With this new stage of life goes responsibility."
The simple, two-page letter goes on to wish young Goldring
three things that all parents wish for their children -- health,
happiness and wealth. "Health is our most precious wish," Stephen
Goldring wrote. "We cannot give you health. You must take care
of yourself, but we do wish you a long life.
"Happiness is a part of your life that you must create for
yourself. There is no formula; there are a few basic rules that
might help. Keep a clear conscience. ... As the Bible says,
'Walk humbly before your God.'"
Stephen Goldring had spent his life building the family business,
Magnolia Marketing Co., into one of the largest independently
owned wine and spirits distributors in the country. His letter
to Bill focused intently on the matter of wealth -- but not
so much on how to acquire it as how to use it wisely. "Intelligent
use of wealth can bring power and happiness, not only to you,
but to many. Wealth can also bring you much happiness and satisfaction
by helping others."
The letter also shows how well Stephen Goldring understood
his son's competitive instincts, which were honed so keenly
on the basketball court under Coach Tuohy: "The more wealth
you have the more responsibilities you have. ... Work and work
hard. Play the game of life as you did when you played basketball
for the state championship. Play to win -- even if you give
it away after you get it. Prove to yourself that you are better
than your competition. Don't ever be a loafer."
The final bit of advice that Stephen Goldring gave to his
son returned to the matter of responsibility. The father wrote
simply: "As you get older you must serve your community; give
time as well as money."
Bill Goldring will turn 61 later this month. In the 40 years
since his father penned that letter, he has worked hard to follow
his father's advice. He has kept himself in excellent health.
He has pursued happiness at every turn. And he has expanded
the family liquor and wine business in ways that enabled him
to earn -- and share -- a great deal of wealth. So much so that
he was an easy choice to be Gambit Weekly's New Orleanian
of the Year for 2003.
The many causes supported by Bill Goldring are as
impressive as they are varied. Tulane University, the Audubon
Institute, the Jewish Community Center, the Ogden Museum of
Southern Art -- to name just a few -- have enjoyed not only
Goldring's financial largesse but also the commitment of his
personal time. He is a tireless worker, yet all who know him
say he takes great pains to get the job done quietly, behind
the scenes and without fanfare.
What's most impressive, however, is how nimbly Goldring juggles
his time and resources -- while overseeing a large family business
in the fiercely competitive field of alcoholic beverage distribution.
He went to work for the family business, Magnolia Marketing
Co., right out of college, working under his father's tutelage.
He became president of the company in 1982 and chairman in 1991.
The family holdings also include the Sazerac Company (makers
of Taaka vodka), a distillery in Kentucky, and beverage distribution
companies in Louisiana, Florida and Arizona. He also is president
of the Goldring Family Foundation and the Woldenberg Foundation,
which have given many millions to local charities and institutions
over the past 20 years.
But Goldring's civic deeds extend far beyond writing checks.
Consider the following list of causes he has championed -- all
of which blossomed in 2003:
 |
|
After graduating from college, Bill Goldring worked under
his father's tutelage at Magnolia Marketing Co., one of
the nation's largest independently owned wine and spirits
distributors. |
| Photo
by Donn Young |
· Tulane's new $25 million business school annex, Goldring/Woldenberg
Hall II, opened in November and immediately doubled the size of
the A. B. Freeman Business School. The original building is likewise
named Goldring Woldenberg Hall, a reflection of his family's longstanding
generosity and commitment to Tulane.
· As a member of Tulane's Board of Trustees, Goldring
led the fight to preserve Tulane athletic programs when the
university considered scrubbing them for financial reasons.
He did it in typical Goldring fashion, behind the scenes and
away from the spotlight.
· He chairs the board of the new Ogden Museum of Southern
Art and personally guaranteed enough funds for it to open on
time (and with sufficient operating capital). The museum's new
building on Camp Street is named for Stephen Goldring.
· He led the fund-raising drive for the Holocaust Memorial
in Woldenberg Park, which was dedicated last June. The memorial
is a "living" work by Jacob Agam, the noted Israeli artist and
sculptor. "As you walk around it, it changes image and shapes,"
Goldring says. "Every three or four feet, it's a completely
different picture. Each image symbolizes something different
from the Holocaust." Goldring's donation to the memorial reflects
one of the cornerstones of his philanthropy -- social justice.
He's equally happy to see it placed in Woldenberg Park, where
more than 7 million visitors a year will have a chance to see
it.
· He made a substantial contribution to, and led fund-raising
efforts for, the new Jewish Community Center in Metairie, which
opened last February. The center bears his family's name --
another reflection not just of his financial contributions but
also of his personal efforts to build the facility. "This JCC,
like the one Uptown, has 50 percent of its membership from non-Jewish
families," Goldring notes. "That's very important, because it
reflects the JCC's commitment to be a resource for the entire
community."
In addition to those high-profile projects, Goldring quietly
contributes to countless other causes. For example, his companies
offer college scholarships to the children of all 3,000 Goldring
employees, regardless of where they choose to go to school.
The scholarship program started five years ago, which means
the first wave of Goldring scholars is graduating from college.
If a student earns a full scholarship on his or her own, Goldring
still gives the equivalent of a company scholarship to help
with college-related expenses.
Among the other local institutions he has supported are the
National D-Day Museum, The Southern Institute (which is located
at Tulane but is funded independently), the NO/AIDS Task Force,
Covenant House, Second Harvesters Food Bank, the Contemporary
Arts Center, Project Lazarus, the Red Cross, the Anti-Defamation
League, the Urban League, Dillard University, Xavier University,
Bridge House, the Preservation Resource Center, the Greater
New Orleans Foundation, Touro Infirmary, NOCCA, the Magnolia
School, and many others.
On top of all that, Goldring last year moved one of his businesses
-- Crescent Crown Distributing Company, which he co-owns with
businessman (and former New Orleanian of the Year) Jim Bob Moffett
-- onto the burnt-out site of the old MacFrugal's warehouse
in eastern New Orleans. The move was announced shortly after
Mayor Ray Nagin's inauguration in 2002, and the facility opened
a year later. It brought more than 200 jobs to a blighted area
and helped jump-start Nagin's economic development efforts.
"We've always tried to maintain our roots in and ties to New
Orleans," Goldring says. "I've lived here my entire life, and
any time we can do something that will benefit where we live,
that's of primary importance. It's also important from a distribution
standpoint. That location is great. Plus, it brought back an
eyesore. We're just happy to have been able to get a location
that made it so easy for us to make a good decision."
Among those who know Goldring well,
his generosity is legendary -- yet he is painfully shy when
it comes to talking about his philanthropy. "He does things
that people don't know about, things the public never hears
about," says life-long pal Coleman Adler, who played on the
Newman championship basketball team with Goldring in 1961. "He's
always helping kids get a college education or helping families.
Friends call him all the time asking for help. He genuinely
tries to do it all."
"Nobody knows all the extra work he does quietly, because
he does so much more than write a big check to get his family's
name on a building," says Paul Fine, who works closely with
Goldring at his companies and at the foundations. "He always
stays calm and works hard to do the right thing. He listens
very well to others when there's a difference of opinion, and
when they're finished, he gets his point across."
In addition to ducking the spotlight, Goldring is known for
working constantly, and feverishly, to get things done. "I've
always had a personal motto," he says. "Anything you can do
tomorrow, you can do today." His unpublicized efforts to save
Tulane athletics are probably the best example of the Goldring
touch.
Tulane's trustees have an obligation to examine, periodically,
all aspects of the university in terms of their financial and
educational viability. Financially speaking, athletics have
been a losing proposition. That observation last year led to
a protracted -- and painful -- examination of the value and
importance of athletics at an institution of higher learning.
For die-hard TU fans, it was an easy issue to resolve: athletics
must be saved at all costs. For the trustees, who also had to
find ways to give professors a pay raise, the choices were not
so easy.
Goldring was one of only two trustees determined from the
outset to save athletics, but he knew it would be a tough sell.
He started by assessing the situation objectively and then using
his marketing skills. "We had to rejuvenate interest," he says.
"We had to get commitments from people and rejuvenate interest
throughout the state -- and throughout the alumni base. It was
done in little pockets, by talking to board members outside
the meeting, and we just picked them off one at a time."
Fine recalls that it was not a quick fix.
"He was on the telephone constantly, talking to board members,
spending time with [TU Athletic Director] Rick Dickson, and
just using his influence in a positive way, telling board members
why saving Tulane athletics was the right thing to do," says
Fine, who worked at Tulane for a decade before joining Goldring's
companies. "It was his consensus-building efforts behind the
scenes that saved the program, not a grand speech at the board
meeting. By the time it came up for a vote, Bill already had
the consensus he wanted on behalf of saving athletics. That's
very typical of him."
That pattern repeated itself when the Ogden Museum hit several
snags before opening last August. From fights with the adjacent
Confederate Museum (which appear to have been resolved) to political
heat over UNO's participation in the project, Goldring always
had plenty of challenges as chairman of the Ogden board. "There
was so much hubbub at the last minute to get the project finished,"
says Fine. "There were just lots of fights over the museum.
But Bill single-handedly fixed it. He personally met with Pat
Taylor, the governor, the UNO chancellor and anybody else who
needed to be included. His message was always the same: 'Trust
me, we'll get this done.'"
 |
| Bill
Goldring with his father, Stephen Goldring, who passed away
in 1997. On Bill's 21st birthday, he received a letter from
his father that instructed him to "give time as well as
money." |
| Courtesy
of Bill Goldring |
He did. And when the museum officially opened, Goldring stood
silently in the back of Stephen Goldring Hall and let others take
the bows. Even now, he gives others all the credit. "Greg O'Brien
took the bull by the horns and did what had to be done. Roger
[Ogden] came to me and said, 'Look, if you take over as chairman,
I think we can pull off this thing.' I generally don't chair committees.
... But Roger talked me into it."
In a way, Goldring's involvement
with the Ogden Museum
marked the culmination of a passion that grabbed him somewhat
late in life. He had always been keenly into athletics ("He
found himself, athletically, in tennis," says Coleman Adler),
but his interest in art came almost by accident.
"Years ago, we were getting ready to re-do our offices," Goldring
recalls. "I did not have good art around here at the time --
just some posters that we'd gotten here and there. So I said
to someone, 'You know, we ought to have decent art.' But I didn't
know where to look."
Then one day, almost by chance, Goldring ran into local artist
and musician Tony Green, whose murals have become an artistic
hallmark all over town. "I had just bought one of his works,"
Goldring says of Green, "and so I mentioned my idea to him.
And Tony said, 'Why not? All these New Orleans artists are starving.
The only way they're going to make it is to have local people
buy their stuff.' I looked at Tony and said, 'You know, you're
right.'"
Goldring's offices now include original works by Green, Michalopolous
and other local artists. He's constantly on the prowl for new
works and new artists, and he takes immense pride in showing
off their works to visitors at his Jefferson Highway headquarters.
"He has really good vision in terms of spotting things that
will succeed," says Adler. "He's very shrewd, whether it's about
business or something else. In business, he's tough but very
fair."
Adler and other close friends of Goldring know first-hand
about his unique brand of "tough love." He's so passionate about
his companies' brands of liquor and wine that if he finds competitors'
brands in the homes of friends, he opens the bottles and pours
their contents down the drain.
"He's just that competitive," says Fine. "At the same time,
I don't know of anybody that Bill has ever treated maliciously.
He's got as big a heart as anybody you'd ever want to meet."
His heart probably was never bigger than shortly after his
father died in 1997. According to a close friend, Goldring inherited
a sizeable fortune from his late father, who was a philanthropist
himself. No doubt recalling his father's advice to him when
he turned 21, Goldring decided to donate the entire bequest
to the family foundation -- effectively sharing it with charities
far and wide for generations to come.
Goldring doesn't talk about that decision, but his father
no doubt would have approved of it. In giving up all that his
father left to him, Goldring showed just how much he is his
father's son.
