Charles Addison Sammons wanted to see everything. "He liked to go different places and do different things," said his daughter, Mary Anne Cree. "He felt that was an education in itself." His inquisitive nature and eagerness to learn led him around the globe. He traveled everywhere, from the New York World’s Fair in 1939 to a golf cart factory in Poland in the 1970s. As a businessman, he was often called a visionary. An avid reader, Mr. Sammons built an enterprise using competitive intelligence to identify and acquire businesses in high-potential industries. He capitalized on some of the greatest consumer demands of the twentieth century, including oil, cable television, and bottled water.

His greatest pleasure was not in accumulating wealth. Rather, he wanted to create value through diversified and decentralized operations. This meant that Sammons Enterprises’ many subsidiaries were autonomous. The holding company’s role was primarily to allocate capital and ensure each investment had a strong leader in place. Charles Sammons’ business philosophy resulted in continuous growth and acquisition. According to Jim Whitson, former CEO of Sammons Communications, and EVP and COO of Sammons Enterprises, selling a business represented failure to Mr. Sammons. But as a risk-taker, Charles Sammons accepted that failure was sometimes unavoidable. As Mrs. Cree put it, “He always said to me, ‘I don’t know how successful I was, but I won more than I lost.’”

Under ordinary circumstances, Charles Sammons’ success would be impressive. But for a man who had neither father figure nor higher education, it is exceptional. The enterprise he built has endured the Great Depression, World War II, natural disasters, and several recessions. In early 2009, the business spanned the United States, Mexico, and the United Kingdom, and had a market value of more than $3 billion.

As companies across the globe struggled under the weight of 2008’s sharp economic decline, Sammons Enterprises remained on firm footing. Charles Sammons’ businesses have withstood many economic fluctuations since he established the precursor to Sammons Enterprises during the Great Depression, and they remain strong and diversified in the face of today’s challenges. “We view these current times as much an opportunity as we do a challenge,” said Sammons Enterprises chairman Bob Korba. Mr. Korba admitted it is impossible for Sammons’ many businesses to be unaffected by the recession. “Our insurance group has a lot of investments that are subject to write-downs and devaluations, and in our equipment business people just aren’t spending,” he noted. Even so, Mr. Korba believes there are prosperous times ahead. “It’s not an issue of whether or not we’ll survive. We know we’re going to survive. The question is how can we get through this even stronger than we were when it started?”

A Childhood Cut Short

Charles Addison Sammons, Sr., and Mary Georgie Porter Sammons had little time to teach their children about life. Charles Addison, Jr., the second of three children and only son, was born on June 5, 1898. By 1911, Charles and his sisters were orphans. Their mother died on January 26, 1910, and their father succumbed to a heart attack on December 16, 1911. The impact Mr. and Mrs. Sammons made in these few years, however, strongly influenced the course of Charles Sammons’ future.

The Sammons family made their home in Ardmore, Oklahoma. Still considered Indian Territory for most of their time there, Oklahoma became the forty-sixth state on November 16, 1907. Ardmore developed along the route of the Santa Fe Railroad. It was named by a railroad survey crew in 1886 when they drove a stake into the ground to mark the site of a future station. They named the site Ardmore, for a town in Pennsylvania. On July 28, 1887, the first train arrived. It brought much needed lumber and other building supplies to the town, which then consisted of just a few tents. In 1898, the year Charles Sammons was born, Ardmore was granted a city charter, and the first city elections were held. Telephone and electric services were also established that year.

Cotton served as the community’s primary economic base. In fact, Ardmore was the largest inland cotton market in the United States. But the soil eventually became depleted and cotton could no longer be produced. When that happened, oil became Ardmore’s main commodity. The first oil well was drilled in 1905, and by the 1920s, the town boasted five oil refineries.

In the midst of farmers and oilmen, Charles Sammons, Sr. was a businessman. It was a skill his son inherited. Mr. Sammons owned lumberyards in both southern Oklahoma and northern Texas, and provided a comfortable life for his family. They traveled regularly, spending summers at the Antlers Hotel in Colorado Springs. Located at the foot of Pikes Peak, the fashionable hotel was a popular destination for U.S. presidents and other celebrities.

For young Charles, the appeal of travel never faded, and he instilled it in his own family. “Travel was very important to both my mother and father,” said Mary Anne Cree. “He felt that was more important than school, though I always had to take my homework along.” Mrs. Cree was not the only family member guilty of absenteeism. Mr. Sammons took time off from building his business, even in the vital early years, to vacation with his family. This was no small feat for a man for whom business was more than work. He later wrote, “My hobbies are reading, travel, some swimming and bicycling. However, perhaps attempts to solve business problems, help make companies grow and prosper is my most interesting activity.”

Before long, however, the line between business and travel blurred. The cost-saving nature for which Mr. Sammons would later be renowned began to appear. He entered the hospitality industry in the 1950s, and vacations became getaways to Sammons-owned properties. Those who knew him joked that, like the queen of England, he never stepped on land he didn’t own.

But before building his enterprise, Charles Sammons had to confront the tragedy of his parents’ deaths, and the loss of the life he had known. Because his parents left no will, explained Mary Anne Cree, “everything sort of disappeared.” The Sammons children were split among relatives. Charles Sammons moved to the farmland of Plano, Texas, to live with his aunt. That familial separation shaped the life Charles Sammons made for himself. More noteworthy than the loss, however, was the resilience and ingenuity with which he responded.

According to Mary Anne Cree, Charles Sammons felt responsible for his sisters even after they were separated. This drove him to work at an early age. “He picked cotton one summer,” she noted, “and said he never wanted to have to make a living doing that.” He quickly developed a dislike for the physical labor involved in farming. That feeling persisted during high school when he worked a laundry route. He ultimately chose to follow in his entrepreneurial father’s footsteps and become a businessman. He bought a wagon and hired a horse and some of his high school friends to lug the clothes around while he concentrated on the operational side of the business. Counting all three of Plano’s barber shops as clients, Mr. Sammons earned commissions of several thousand dollars each year he was in business.

He was able to earn enough money to help send his sisters to college, though he never went himself. “He had a very bright, active mind,” Mrs. Cree said, “but he always felt that he missed out because he didn’t have the advantages of college.” Nonetheless, Charles Sammons gained invaluable practical education through a lifelong career in business. And he was always eager to learn from the people with whom he surrounded himself.

After graduating from high school in 1916, Charles Sammons went to work for a wholesale hay dealer in Plano. Working for someone else was a rare experience, but it gave Mr. Sammons the opportunity to learn the trade and gain experience. The commodity brokerage business developed in the 1800s. It emerged due to changes in the agricultural industry, driven by the development of both the railroad and telegraph. The rise of the commodity futures industry helped propel the purchase, transport, and delivery of goods across the nation. These brought increased organization and speed, and ultimately lower costs, to consumers. For farmers who were previously forced to rely on bartering at local markets to sell their products, the emerging national market was a welcome improvement.

By 1917, Charles Sammons felt he had learned enough about the hay and grain industry to move to Dallas and begin his own operation. Using credit from local banks, he bought carloads of hay, grain, oats, and other livestock feed from producers and shippers and had them shipped directly to buyers. By selling his product for more than the amount due on his loans, he was able to maintain his credit and make a profit. “My bank arrangements allowed me to handle about ten times the collateral I posted with the banks,” Mr. Sammons later wrote. “My profits soon doubled or tripled that starting capital, and I soon had similar offices in Fort Worth and Waco.” Mary Anne Cree described her father’s financial intuition as a gift. “He understood money,” she said. “He always used other people’s money to make money.”

Charles Sammons was building his business at a time when most of his contemporaries were working as ranch hands and stocking warehouses. But his relationship with Dallas-based Security National Bank was put in jeopardy when the institution discovered he was not of majority age. He owed the bank roughly $100,000 at the time but legally could not be held accountable for the debt. Mr. Sammons diffused the situation by going to court and having his minor status removed. The act allowed him to continue building his enterprise. But just as important, his actions demonstrated the manner in which he conducted business. Integrity was of the utmost importance to Charles Sammons. And he expected just as much from his employees and business partners as he did from himself. As his business grew in the following years, so did the challenges. But he encountered each one with the same uprightness exhibited when, according to the law, he was just a child.

With his banking relationships restored and his adult status legally recognized, Mr. Sammons set his sights on the future. Even in his early twenties, Mr. Sammons had the ability to look past his current project to the next endeavor. It was a trait that eventually earned him the label of visionary. It also helped diversify his enterprise, which ultimately became a cornerstone of his business philosophy. Through diversification, Charles Sammons could continue to develop his business without relying on a single industry to constantly provide growth. While still in the hay and grain business, he took bookkeeping and business law courses, as well as cotton-buying classes, to expand his business into cotton sales. It was a timely decision. The new business both complemented the old and gave Mr. Sammons the additional industry on which to concentrate, should the market for livestock feed deteriorate. “The hay and grain business was feast and famine, and it ended in famine,” he said. Power-driven equipment soon began to replace the draft horses and other animals fed by his original product. But for Charles Sammons, always a step ahead, it was a relatively smooth transition.

When Security National Bank discovered Charles Sammons’ status as a minor, it put their relationship in jeopardy. Though Mr. Sammons had his minor status removed, as a show of good faith he invested the majority of his wealth in the bank’s stock. It was an ill-fated decision. In the early to mid-1920s, farmers’ struggles with crashing crop prices and bankers’ poor lending practices led to the failure of many U.S. banks. Security National was one of them, taking Charles Sammons’ money with it.

As the Depression began to set in, many Americans were destitute. Jobs and savings vanished seemingly overnight, and thousands were forced out of their homes. Many ended up in “Hoovervilles,” communities of makeshift shacks constructed from as little as cardboard boxes. The temporary housing was named for President Hoover, whom many blamed for the crisis. Others roamed the country in search of work, though there were few jobs to be found. By 1932, roughly 25 percent of the U.S. workforce was unemployed. For Charles Sammons, who had neither family nor physical skills to rely on, the future could have been grim. Rather than succumbing to the fate of so many other Americans, he regrouped. Mr. Sammons moved to Waco, Texas, and refocused his efforts on the cotton trading business.

Charles Sammons continued to rely on his ability to attract investors. He quickly secured the financial backing of a Waco businessman who owned a cotton storage facility. In return, Mr. Sammons ran the business, and they shared the profits.

During this time, he also became acquainted with local businessmen Abe Marker and Harold Goodman. Mr. Marker and Mr. Goodman were rebounding from a failed attempt in the health and accident insurance business. “They had learned why they went broke,” wrote Charles Sammons. “It was because they had spent all of the money collected as it came in and had nothing left to pay claims.” Abe Marker and Harold Goodman wanted to give insurance another try, and recognized in Mr. Sammons a potential business partner. Though his insurance industry knowledge was minimal, Mr. Sammons had several key assets to offer the relationship. He had managed to amass a decent savings, which, coupled with his excellent credit, gave him a small but sturdy base. He had also gained considerable operations skills while running his livestock feed business. “It turned out they wanted me because I knew about office machinery, typewriters, adding machines, etc.,” skills the two men lacked.

In 1928, Abe Marker, Harold Goodman, and Charles Sammons formed a partnership, agreeing to split everything equally. Each contributed a few hundred dollars to establish Postal Indemnity Company, a mutual assessment insurance company that wrote accident and life insurance coverage. Money was scarce. The only capital was the $1 application fee they collected. In fact, the partners had to borrow money to pay their first accident claim. It came in at $1,000, which was their limit for accident coverage at the time. But Charles Sammons again refused to let capital, or lack thereof, become an obstacle to building a business. He turned to Republic National Bank, as well as other Dallas banks, which willingly funded the operation. Mr. Sammons felt they dispensed their money a little too willingly. He later criticized several bankers for “lending me money with which to go into businesses in which I had no experience whatever.” He cited a basement full of letterhead as evidence of the many companies that were financed, but never thrived. He was always quick to note, however, that he never denied any just claim. Nor did he ever default on a loan or declare a company bankrupt.

Despite its meager beginning and the fact that economic woes still hung thickly over the country, Postal Indemnity grew. Its name soon changed to Postal Mutual Indemnity Company. The policies the company originally sold for $3.65 per year (one cent a day!) turned into thousand-dollar-per-year income streams. Marketing emerged as one of the tools used for company growth, and was an area of creative interest for Mr. Sammons. According to Jim Whitson, former CEO of Sammons Communications, and EVP and COO of Sammons Enterprises, even forty years later marketing remained one of the few operational areas in which Mr. Sammons gave any business input at all. True to form, Charles Sammons capitalized on the sales appeal of Postal Indemnity’s first claim. “We made thousands of pictures of the check and mailed them to doctors all over the United States to show them how important such small policies could be,” Mr. Sammons said

Growth was always on Charles Sammons’ mind, but insurance laws of the 1930s limited mutual assessment policies to $1,000. Expansion meant branching out into other areas of Texas as well as other parts of the country, by acquiring existing companies. As Postal Indemnity moved into states such as California, Indiana, Illinois, and Arizona, the partnership grew as well. Mr. Sammons considered Abe Marker and Harold Goodman to be “entirely honest,” and “excellent partners and friends.” In later years, however, he did note that while Mr. Marker was an industrious worker, Mr. Goodman was lazy. Mr. Sammons felt that he and Mr. Marker carried Mr. Goodman along. The comment sheds light on the end of their partnership. When Abe Marker died from a heart attack in 1938 at the age of forty, rather than continuing the business with Harold Goodman, Mr. Sammons bought Mr. Marker’s share of the company from his widow. Mr. Goodman took the Indianapolis, Indiana, branch as his share of their agreement. Once again, Charles Sammons was on his own.

Mr. Sammons used the handful of mutual insurance companies that he solely owned, and a $26,000 loan to form Reserve Life Insurance Company (RLI) in 1938. It was his first stock-based company, and the basis on which Mr. Sammons built his dynasty. With the cash Reserve Life generated, Mr. Sammons funded future acquisition.

Charles Sammons also continued his pattern of business expansion during economically challenging times. To combat the struggles of scarce labor and machinery during World War II and postwar years, Mr. Sammons kept RLI running twenty-four hours a day at times. He arranged for employees to work in shifts to accommodate business requests. He even operated the addressograph machine, printing addresses on customer correspondence.

In the early years of Reserve Life, Mr. Sammons used the capital generated from his mutual companies to fund growth. However, as RLI began to offer additional products and services, expansion was subsidized through the company’s own sales efforts. Mr. Sammons also continued to acquire insurance companies.

Modern-day health insurance in the United States began with the Baylor Plan, which was established during the Great Depression by Baylor Hospital administrator Dr. Justin Ford Kimball. Dr. Kimball had previously been a school superintendent. Knowing the burden of health care costs on a teacher’s salary, he created a fund into which teachers could pay fifty cents a month to guarantee up to twenty-one days of hospital care. Other hospitals around the country followed suit, and in 1944, the Baylor Plan was merged into Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Texas. One of RLI’s new products was hospital insurance, which it began offering in 1946, shortly after the formation of Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Texas. Mr. Sammons also pioneered the concept of selling monthly premiums, which increased growth. The success of his efforts showed clearly in his premium income numbers. In RLI’s first year, premium income was $1,453.71; in 1946, it surpassed $1 million.

Geographical expansion, however, brought challenges. The regulations for obtaining an insurance license in each state were different. In some states, the requirements were especially difficult to satisfy. In New York, for example, insurance laws were extra-territorial. This meant New York laws applied to the insurance a company wrote not only in New York but also in any other state in which that company operated. To avoid these types of restrictions, Mr. Sammons typically acquired companies that were already licensed and let them operate as subsidiaries under their own names. In this way, he neither had to endure the often painful licensing process, nor bind Reserve Life to other states’ rules. What he could do, however, was introduce the products and services offered by Reserve Life into the subsidiaries, thus creating a national market.

Building a Values-Based Culture

At the onset of his career, Charles Sammons discovered he could not legally be held accountable for his debt due to his minor status. His decision to assume the debt anyway came from an unwavering commitment to his personal values, one of which was integrity. As Mr. Sammons began to grow his enterprise, like any businessman, he was periodically faced with values-based decisions. While these types of judgment calls can seem singular and isolated when they arise, over time they create precedents and help define an individual’s, and in this case an enterprise’s, culture.

“Mr. Sammons set some fairly high standards, one of which was to keep our word in a transaction. If we committed to do something, we would do it,” Sammons Enterprises chairman Bob Korba said. Ethics were important to Mr. Sammons, and he would go out of his way to uphold the company’s integrity. Mr. Korba, who was general counsel for Sammons Enterprises before assuming the role of CEO and later chairman, noted that the company faced several baseless lawsuits over the years. Refusing to settle with plaintiffs making false claims, Mr. Sammons spent thousands of extra dollars on litigation to defend the company’s honor. “It was not a business decision,” said Mr. Korba. “It was a decision based on his values.”

Another standard established by Charles Sammons was hard work. On this he set the bar much higher than most people could reach. He was often noted as having worked until the day he died. And he expected a lot from his employees as well. As Doris Hartman, his secretary of forty-seven years, explained, “After hours, he’d often go around and check people’s desks to make sure they did their work for the day. He wouldn’t necessarily say anything, but he was definitely aware.” Demanding though he was, Mr. Sammons created an atmosphere that inspired his employees. Doris Hartman said she never minded the hard work or long hours, noting, “It was fascinating because there was always something new happening.”

Today, Sammons Enterprises concentrates on recruiting new employees who uphold these same principles. “Everybody wants the best and the brightest people,” explained Mr. Korba. “I think bright is a commodity. Everybody in our organization is bright. We emphasize the ‘best.’ And by that, we’re talking about the character and the personality of the individuals. They understand priorities. They first care about themselves and their families, they next care about their community, and lastly, they care about what they do at Sammons. If they’ve got their personal priorities right, they’ll be great employees.”

In recent years, the company has made a concerted effort to define and articulate its values to both new and existing employees. And just as company executives believed, the original principles Charles Sammons stood stubbornly by were clearly worth defending. Across all of Sammons Enterprises’ businesses, ethics, integrity, and a commitment to creating value, regardless of the amount of work it takes, are essential company ingredients.

“It Was a Good Life”

Though it may have seemed so, life during the first half of the twentieth century was not all business for Charles Sammons. In the 1920s, he met Rosine Smith in Dallas while running his livestock feed business. They married in 1928. Though Rosine Smith’s early life had followed a different path than Charles Sammons’, she exhibited one important characteristic in common with her future husband: the ability to reach beyond what was expected. While many women were just getting used to exercising their recently gained right to vote, Rosine Smith was attending college at Southern Methodist University. She graduated with a degree in journalism, and later held a variety of jobs in her field, including Dallas newspaper publicist. Before marrying Charles Sammons, she became the publicity director of The Adolphus, a leading Dallas hotel. The Texas landmark was built in 1912 by Anheuser-Busch co-founder, Adolphus Busch, and featured luxurious Baroque architecture combined with world-class service. The first woman to ever hold the publicity director position, Rosine Smith was truly ahead of her time.

Though she no longer held a full-time job after marriage, Rosine Sammons continued her work with a range of charities. She provided the publicity for the local chapter of the United Way and brought the first Girl Scout chapter to Dallas. Looking back, Mary Anne Cree noted that while at the time she took her mother’s charitable work for granted, she now realizes how progressive her mother was.

Rosine Sammons also had a great deal of influence on her husband. Charles Sammons followed her philanthropic lead and became a large contributor to local charities as well. As parents, Mr. and Mrs. Sammons passed the importance of charitable work on to their daughter. They often explained that for all the advantages she had, she owed that much to society. Mrs. Sammons was also able to offer Charles Sammons some of the higher education he missed as a younger man. “Mother was a great sounding board for him,” Mrs. Cree explained. Dinner conversations were Charles Sammons’ chance to take advantage of his wife’s education and test his ideas. They even discussed the meanings of words. “They were a good combination,” said Mary Anne Cree.

It was a good life, confirmed Mrs. Cree, who grew up in a middle-class neighborhood in Dallas. Even though she was born during the depths of the Depression, she claimed never to have gone without, including the attention of her parents. Though Charles Sammons worked hard, there was still time for pitching practice and other sports with his daughter. She joked about his choice in activities, saying, “Daddy was probably a little frustrated that he didn’t have a boy.”

Mary Anne Cree described her father as loving but not necessarily expressive with his emotions. “I always knew I was cared about a great deal, but he didn’t talk about it,” she said. He also expected his daughter, and grandchildren, to be independent and successful. For a man who earned every penny he made, nepotism was not an option. Ever the businessman, he saw the drawbacks of hiring family members. “Certainly no capable company department head or executive would want very much to continue with us, thinking that if we had a promotion or a better job, it would most likely go to some of the kinfolk,” he wrote to one of his hotel managers who had been caught adding his family to the hotel staff.

He often told his daughter to live conservatively and quietly. And there is no better way to describe the life he led himself.

Reserve Life’s expansion was briefly put on hold in 1948 as Charles Sammons recovered from a heart attack. Only out of the office for a month or two, Mr. Sammons struggled with the notion of “taking it easy.” “He had to nap every afternoon between two and four,” explained Doris Hartman, who had to force him to rest. “It was impossible for him to let go of work for those two hours, because he could hear phone conversations and wanted to get up,” she said.

Mr. Sammons was in good hands, though. He had created a family atmosphere among his businesses, and employee health was of the utmost importance. In fact, when Reserve Life introduced its family health plan to policyholders, Mr. Sammons made sure that employees benefited as well. The plan was based on preventive medicine, a new approach at the time. Employees received copies of the same educational materials on health and home safety produced for plan policyholders. “He cared about everybody,” said Sammons Enterprises chairman Bob Korba. “He worried about people’s health, and he’d talk to people about it.”

Communicating with his employees was second nature to Mr. Sammons. Even though many struggled to see beyond the executive-level boundaries that automatically attach to a company founder, Charles Sammons was readily accessible. “His number was in the phone book, and he generally answered the phone himself,” Mr. Korba said. In fact, in later years when Mr. Sammons no longer came into the office, he regularly hosted employees at home. He welcomed them into his apartment to discuss even the smallest of matters.

Sammons’ Watchful Eye

By 1950, Charles Sammons had returned to full health and was ready to refocus on growth. That year, Reserve Life’s premium income surpassed $22 million. Mr. Sammons relied on tight cost controls to help grow his company, so much so that he was often seen as a penny-pincher. Doris Hartman remembered times when employees would approach him requesting salary adjustments. “He would say, ‘Oh? Up or down?’” He was also known to reprimand employees for being wasteful. His definition of wasteful was throwing paper clips away, or not using pencils to their fullest extent.

While many bristled under his watchful eye, it was this mentality that had served him well in the early days. In a 1982 letter to then president of Sammons Enterprises, Ken Mutzel, he commented on what he termed the “ridiculous” long-distance telephone expense. “Early in my business experience, my main selling tool was keeping a number of employees on the telephones, trying to monitor their calls to a minimum and calling at the cheapest hours. I had to operate a tight ship or go broke. I did operate a tight ship and survived and saved a few tens of thousands of dollars to go into some other businesses which treated me somewhat better.”

The strategy worked then, and continued to do so. But Mr. Sammons relied on more than memos and admonishments to control costs. He used creative techniques, one of which was limiting sales agents’ continuing interest in the policies they sold. He provided them with leads, thus saving agents time and money in researching potential clients. In return, he paid them a one-time fee for each policy. Agents with a continuing interest could potentially be compensated 5 to 10 percent of the amount of a policy’s premium on a continual basis for the life of the policy. At Reserve Life, agents had no continuing interest in the policy once that initial fee was paid.

Charles Sammons also continued to pioneer new health insurance products. In the early 1950s Reserve Life introduced its family health plan, the first of its kind. The plan encouraged preventive medicine as a method for bettering policyholders’ lives and costing the company less in claims. “We feel what we are doing will write new medical insurance history,” a Reserve Life press release stated. “What we are doing is not at all unselfish. We know that we can save these people pain and worry and grief, and we think that we can keep their insurance rates down, and we also expect to save money ourselves.” The family health plan offered a number of specialized services, including a home safety quiz and coupons with which policyholders could obtain services such as free medical counsel and urinalysis tests.

More than a creative product, the family health plan was another example of marketing savvy. Reserve Life partnered with Dallas writer, sales expert, and Reserve Life policyholder Elmer Wheeler to promote the plan. In 1950, Mr. Wheeler published The Fat Boy’s Book, which explained how he lost forty pounds in eighty days. The book became popular through newspaper syndication, and Reserve Life decided to capitalize on its success. Reserve Life agreed to fund the cost of The Fat Boy’s Tummy and Automatic Calorie Selector, a pocket version of the book with supplemental information. The book was sent to potential policyholders, with a note from Elmer Wheeler explaining the benefits of the family health plan and a business reply postcard for those interested in more information.

Mr. Sammons also used creative cost control methods when acquiring new businesses. He took advantage of the fact that some of them operated in less expensive environments. According to Bill Rigsbee, former president of Midland National Life Insurance Company, being located in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, gave his business an advantage over competitors located in higher cost areas, such as New York City–based Metropolitan Life. “As a result of having a cost advantage, we had a pricing advantage in our products,” he explained. “We could be competitive in the marketplace.”

Midland National

Acquisitions indeed were a large part of Mr. Sammons’ growth strategy, and he was constantly in search of new developmental opportunities. While expansion itself motivated Mr. Sammons, he particularly liked turning struggling organizations around. In a 1983 letter to Ken Mutzel he wrote, “If we can get a list of quite a few private companies in which we might be interested, there might well be one or two that would like to continue on and to safeguard the future of their employees that will be interested in what we have to offer.” The fate of the employees was always one of Mr. Sammons’ concerns when acquiring or selling a company. “He was very sensitive about people and people being employed. He felt good about providing a livelihood to people,” explained Bob Korba.

Midland National, one of Mr. Sammons’ most successful acquisitions of the 1950s, was founded in 1906 as Dakota Mutual Life Insurance in Lead, South Dakota. Even in its early history, the company exhibited characteristics that proved to be a good fit for Mr. Sammons’ enterprise. It was durable, able to withstand the influenza pandemic of 1918–1919, which killed approximately 675,000 Americans. That’s ten times as many who died during World War I. The company had also survived the Great Depression and World War II. By 1925, Dakota Mutual had written life insurance policies totaling more than $28 million and had a national clientele. In recognition of this growing customer base, company leaders voted to change Dakota Mutual’s name to Midland National.

In addition to its strength, the company boasted another Sammons-like characteristic: innovative marketing. When the Dust Bowl overwhelmed local farmers in the 1930s, Midland National created the “Hog Contract.” The company gave farmers who either took out a new life insurance policy or renewed their existing policy a female hog for breeding. With the money earned from selling the offspring, farmers would pay back the loans they took out on the policies and begin paying their premiums. Though the Hog Contract required an initial investment on Midland’s part of $90,000, it provided many farmers with life insurance. Plus, it boosted the struggling hog-farming industry in South Dakota, Minnesota, and Iowa.

Charles Sammons acquired Midland National in 1958. In 1961, he brought in Bill Rigsbee from Franklin Life Insurance Company in Springfield, Illinois, to run the organization. At the time, all of Mr. Sammons’ insurance companies sold mostly health-related products, except for the recently acquired Midland. Mr. Rigsbee explained that while his background was in life insurance, Midland could have moved toward selling health insurance. Mr. Rigsbee, however, pushed to keep the company primarily as a life insurance provider. In the 1960s, Mr. Sammons did not have a company other than Midland licensed to write insurance in Wisconsin. Mr. Sammons approached Mr. Rigsbee about using Midland as a vehicle to write health insurance in that state. “I felt that was not a wise move to make, that there would be some rub-off on Midland relative to some things that were going on in the health insurance industry,” Mr. Rigsbee said. He was referring to the reputation challenges relating to underwriting that the health insurance industry as a whole was facing. “Agents would write business and the policies would be issued, and sometimes they wouldn’t be careful to document the health history of the applicant. The first notice the company would have that this applicant wasn’t a very good risk was when they got a claim. This created public relations problems,” Mr. Rigsbee explained. He was determined to protect Midland from this exposure. In a show of faith in his executive, Mr. Sammons agreed to leave Midland as it was, focusing primarily on life insurance.

Willingness to listen to his employees was a key aspect of Mr. Sammons’ leadership style. Rather than taking a hands-on approach, Mr. Sammons instead hired people he believed in and got out of their way. “I would rarely hear from him and I knew that if I didn’t, that was good news,” Mr. Rigsbee noted. As Bob Korba explained, “Charles Sammons created this healthy environment where you could, with minimal interference, grow your business as big as you were capable of growing it. He empowered people to prove how good they could be.” It was a successful policy. Mr. Rigsbee was able to grow Midland substantially, boasting a 15 percent compound annual growth rate over his thirty-one-year tenure with the company.

In the 1980s, Mr. Rigsbee expanded his role, heading up all of the insurance companies in the Sammons portfolio. In this role, he oversaw a period of merging and selling companies that were not faring as well as others. This included American Progressive, British Fidelity, Westland Life, and Professional Insurance Corporation, most of which were acquired during Mr. Sammons’ 1950s era of expansion. Mr. Rigsbee also coordinated the merger of Reserve Life into Midland National, which was a testament to Midland National’s success. When Mr. Rigsbee retired in 1992, Midland National posted year-end revenues of more than $350 million and life insurance in force of $50 billion.

In addition to expanding his insurance business in the 1950s, Charles Sammons also focused on diversification. One of his most notable moves was entering the cable television industry. The industry had only just begun to emerge, and Mr. Sammons’ decision demonstrates his ability to spot an unmet consumer demand and act quickly to fill it.

Cable television in the late 1940s and early 1950s bore little resemblance to the industry we know today. It was initially a reception service, designed for areas that were either located a significant distance from a television station or surrounded by mountainous or hilly terrain. Large towers with “community antennas” were constructed, and subscribers could receive television signals that were amplified and distributed from these antennas through coaxial cables.

Charles Sammons entered the industry via a partnership with prominent Colorado cable broker/investor Bill Daniels. Mr. Sammons was particularly attracted to the industry because, much like the insurance business, it generated regular cash flow. Once initial subscriptions were sold, as long as the customers remained happy, they continued to send money each month. In fact, Mr. Sammons’ acquisition strategy in the cable business was based on cash flow. He would not buy a business for more than ten times its cash flow. “Of course you had to look at what constituted cash flow. If the system was really run down, you would give less than ten times because you would have to go in there with a rebuild,” explained Bill Strange, vice president of Corporate Development for Charles Sammons’ cable businesses.

Mr. Sammons formed a Communications Group in 1961, and continued to buy antenna systems around the country, as well as several radio stations. In 1964, he folded these holdings into National Trans-Video. Growth in the industry continued at a rapid pace. To keep up, Charles Sammons formed Sammons Communications, Inc., in 1972 to provide antenna and cable television services nationwide. By the time Jim Whitson joined the company in 1973, Sammons Communications posted yearly revenues of more than $13.6 million, had nearly 450 employees (most of them in the field), and operated in twenty-one states. In 1974, T.V. Digest listed Sammons Communications as the seventh-largest cable television system operator, based on its 244,074 subscribers.

Sammons Communications was a multiple system operator, which meant that it served numerous communities. As one of the earliest of its kind in the country, Sammons Communications approached each of its systems like a local business. Programming catered specifically to subscribers in each region. For example, viewers in Easton, Pennsylvania, watched a pre-taped local congressman’s Washington, D.C., interview, while subscribers in other areas tuned in to city council meetings.

The cable industry saw many changes in the final decades of the twentieth century. As technology progressed and the Federal Communications Commission began to relax its regulations, more options became available for consumers. Initially, strict rules put in place to protect the broadcasting industry limited the number of signals providers could carry. This essentially controlled their ability to compete in major markets. However, in the 1970s and ’80s, the rules were relaxed, allowing cable providers to bring in signals from anywhere they could get them. Also during this time, satellites came into use. Companies like HBO and Ted Turner’s WTBS took advantage of the new technology and expanded their range. No longer having to rely on cable companies to build towers and string wires to receive their signals, companies like HBO and WTBS could broadcast their programs to the entire country. For cable providers like Sammons Communications, this meant that after the initial expense of purchasing and installing the satellite equipment, broadcasting these additional channels became a viable option. They charged each customer a subscription fee, which they used to pay for the additional channels.

With Mr. Whitson at the helm, Sammons Communications continued to grow. Like Bill Rigsbee, he was given the opportunity to succeed, with little input from Charles Sammons. “He participated to the extent that I told him what we were planning to do, and he either agreed or didn’t,” Mr. Whitson said. Not surprisingly, marketing was the one aspect of the cable business’ operations in which Mr. Sammons did contribute. “He was prone to call our marketing person directly and set up marketing programs,” Mr. Whitson said.

Like Charles Sammons, Jim Whitson ran a tightly controlled operation when it came to costs. Bill Strange recalled the details of Mr. Whitson’s efficiency measures. “We shared secretaries, we never used private planes, we flew coach. If we couldn’t go coach we’d wait for the next plane.” These measures aided growth, and Sammons Communications logged more than 700,000 basic subscribers by the mid-1980s. Things went so smoothly, in fact, that when Sammons Enterprises CEO Bob Korba asked Mr. Whitson to become EVP and COO of Sammons Enterprises in 1989, Mr. Whitson made a relatively easy transition. And though the business remained successful, Mr. Whitson and Mr. Korba made the difficult decision to sell the cable company in 1996.

The motivation to sell was twofold, said Mr. Whitson. In addition to increased competition from telephone companies, the business faced demands for added services, such as Internet. Sammons Communications consisted of small companies scattered across multiple states. Some of them were very small markets, such as Clinton, Oklahoma. Mr. Whitson and Mr. Korba did not anticipate a large return on their investment for upgrading their services. Knowing how Mr. Sammons felt about selling anything, Mr. Whitson struggled with the decision. In fact, he continued to think about it in the years after his retirement. But ultimately, he acted according to the sound business judgment Mr. Sammons had relied on for years. “It was a hard decision to make, but I think it was the right one. If faced with the same set of circumstances, I’d do it again. In any business there comes a time when it may be a right time to get out. If you’ve got an alternative use for the capital, take advantage of it. We had an alternative use and it has proven to be very successful.” Over the course of two transactions, they sold the cable business for roughly $1.8 billion. The capital was used to acquire additional businesses, helping to build the billion-dollar insurance business of today.

On Sunday, August 26, 1962, Rosine Sammons succumbed to injuries she sustained after falling in the home she and Mr. Sammons had recently purchased. She died in Baylor Hospital. The Dallas Times Herald reported that Mrs. Sammons had stepped through a layer of Sheetrock™ in the Sammons’ attic and fell two stories. She landed on the marble floor below. After thirty-four years of marriage, Charles Sammons faced heartbreaking loss. Upon hearing of Rosine Sammons’ death, Jim Bishop, a friend who had previously suffered the loss of his own wife, wrote Mr. Sammons a letter. In it, Mr. Bishop offered the most honest of words: “Grief will hit you in waves and go away and come back again when you least expect it. No words of mine will help. You, who have done so much for so many friends, now stand alone in sorrow.”

The tragedy was an unexpected event in Charles Sammons’ personal life. And it would take time and distance to heal. But business moved on. By 1962, Charles Sammons had fully diversified his holdings. In addition to the insurance and cable businesses, he had acquired companies in a range of industries. Some of these were Bennett Printing Company, a Texas-based printing and stationers company; United China and Glass Company, a worldwide importer of ceramics and other gift items; and Briggs-Weaver, Inc., one of the largest industrial distribution companies in the southwest. Mr. Sammons also had significant investments in the hospitality industry, which are often noted as particularly close to his heart. He concentrated even more of his efforts in this area in later years. To accommodate his growing vision, Charles Sammons formed Sammons Enterprises, Inc. (SEI).

It can be argued that the true beginning of Mr. Sammons’ dynasty was the formation of Reserve Life in 1938 or even Postal Indemnity in 1928. But the official beginning of today’s multibillion-dollar business is marked by the establishment of Sammons Enterprises, Inc. on December 17, 1962.

A New Life Begins

After Rosine Sammons’ death, Charles Sammons tried to stay away from Dallas. Perhaps the memory of his wife still lingered too vividly there. Luckily, the love of travel that had been integral to Mr. Sammons’ life since childhood kept him busy. In the early 1950s, he purchased the Jack Tar Hotel in Galveston, Texas, combining his hobbies of travel and business. “My family and I enjoyed stopping there, so when it was for sale, I thought it would be nice to own it,” he said.

Mr. Sammons’ purchase of the Jack Tar Hotel initiated his entrance into a new industry in which he later became heavily involved. Over the next eleven years he expanded into travel agencies and tour companies, as well as investing in thirteen hotel properties in locations stretching from Charleston, South Carolina, to San Francisco, to the Bahamas.

One property in particular, the Grand Bahama Hotel and Country Club purchased in 1959, needed quite a bit of attention in the early 1960s. Situated just fifty miles off Florida’s Atlantic coast, the secluded, 2,000-acre property had the potential to be an exquisite getaway. It was surrounded on three sides by sparkling blue water filled with coral reefs, colorful sea life, and game fish. To unlock its promise, Mr. Sammons invested roughly $70 million into the property. He expanded the amount of guest rooms from 340 to 575, and increased the number of holes on the golf course from eighteen to twenty-seven. Also located on the property was the West End International Airport. Mr. Sammons extended its runway to 6,400 feet, long enough to accommodate 747s.

Overseeing the bevy of improvements provided a great escape for Charles Sammons. He often stopped at the Jack Tar sales office in Miami on his way down to the resort. There, he became acquainted with Elaine Dewey, who worked in the office. A widow, Ms. Dewey provided much-needed friendship for the healing Charles Sammons. Eventually, friendship grew into more. The two married in November 1963.

With a background in hospitality and a talent for interior design, Elaine Sammons offered sound business judgment to her husband, particularly in the hospitality sector. In fact, The Grove Park Inn, which Mr. Sammons purchased in 1955, was one of Elaine Sammons’ most triumphant projects.

“Built for the Ages”

The Grove Park Inn Resort and Spa sits on the slope of Sunset Mountain in the western North Carolina city of Asheville. It is surrounded by the Blue Ridge Mountains. Wanting to capitalize on the scenic mountain town’s developing tourism, entrepreneur Edwin Wiley Grove built the inn in 1913. Mr. Grove was inspired by the Old Faithful Inn at Yellowstone National Park, whose log-and-wood exterior gave way to a huge lobby with a stone fireplace inside. Finding an architect to carry out his vision of a rustic-style inn, however, was no easy task. After many consultations he settled on the only drawing that brought his ideas to life. It was created by his son-in-law, Fred Seely, who had no architectural experience whatsoever.

The inn was constructed from boulders taken from Sunset Mountain and the surrounding area. The lobby, appropriately known as the Great Hall, was 120 feet long and 80 feet wide. On each end sat a large fireplace stocked with twelve-foot logs.

In the first half of the twentieth century, the inn’s guest registry was filled with the country’s most influential names, ranging from Thomas Edison to F. Scott Fitzgerald. During World War II, the U.S. government leased the inn for various purposes. Axis diplomats and consular officials were housed there while they waited for expatriation. It also served as an army redistribution station for soldiers who awaited reassignment. But when the government contracts ended, hard times fell upon the inn. Not only were many of the rooms empty, but the infrastructure was in dire need of repair. For Charles Sammons, who liked nothing more than to restore a failing business, the inn was an opportunity. In 1955 Charles Sammons bought The Grove Park Inn for $450,000 cash.

In the late 1970s, Mr. Sammons agreed to a complete overhaul of the inn. He decided to put as many resources as were necessary into the project. Though the changes were financed by Charles Sammons, they were led by Elaine Sammons. She recognized the inn needed more than remodeling, it needed preservation. Instead of covering up the inn’s age, she wanted to expose its history.

Restoration began with replacing water and electrical lines and the heating system in the main inn, as well as installing a bar in the Great Hall. Expansion came next.

To create a wealth of new rooms and meeting space, Charles and Elaine Sammons added the Sammons and Vanderbilt wings to the main building. They were designed as continuations of the original structure so that the historic look and feel of the inn was uninterrupted. Mrs. Elaine Sammons filled the additions with authentic Arts and Crafts antiques and well-made reproductions, adding to the building’s historic feel.

Mr. Sammons had also acquired the inn’s adjoining country club, golf course, and outdoor swimming pool, which he then upgraded. He also built a new, modern sports complex for guests. When the work was completed in 1988, The Grove Park Inn Resort boasted 510 guest rooms, five restaurants and lounges, two ballrooms, forty meeting rooms, a country club and golf course, two swimming pools, sports facilities, more than 600 employees, and an annual payroll of more than $10 million.

Charles, and particularly Elaine, Sammons successfully recaptured Mr. Grove’s vision by restoring the original architectural design. Granite walls, oak woodwork, and copper lighting fixtures were all preserved. They also embedded that vision within the additions and updates. Elaine Sammons embraced the American Arts and Crafts movement, another important component of the original design. The movement promoted individual artistry and sought to reestablish the ties between art and the artist. It can be seen throughout the inn in details such as the antique furniture and appointments and the stencils applied to parapet walls, revealed only after the staff removed thirteen layers of paint.

The inn was named to the National Register of Historic Places in 1973. Today it stands among the elite hotels around the world, once again boasting a registry full of prominent names. Charles Sammons is often noted as the savior of the inn, rescuing it from almost-certain demise. And while he may have saved the building, it was Elaine Sammons who saved the spirit of the inn. After her husband’s death, many assumed Mrs. Sammons would sell the inn. But she remained committed to guiding it to an even higher level of success. In the 1990s and 2000s, she embarked on a new set of renovations, including updating the historic main building, replacing the roof, and building a state-of-the-art spa.

When The Grove Park Inn opened on July 12, 1913, faithful guest William Jennings Bryant declared that it had been “built for the ages.” Charles and Elaine Sammons ensured it remained that way.

“To whom much is given, much is expected,” Charles Sammons always told his daughter. But for him, the saying was only half true. He was given very little in life, but gave of himself a great deal. Even as a teenager, when the responsibilities of homework and baseball practice could have easily filled his days, Charles Sammons worked to help fund his two sisters’ college educations. When both sisters were afflicted with breast cancer at a fairly young age, he was again inspired to act on their behalf. Their struggles personalized his lifelong support of the Baylor University Medical Center. “I first became interested in the field through Dr. Fred M. Lange, president of the Dallas Community Chest Fund, and Dr. Boone Powell, director at Baylor University Medical Center,” said Mr. Sammons in 1977. “I find contributing toward the research satisfying.”

In June 1955, the Baylor University Medical Center, then known as Baylor University Hospital, installed its first Theratron Cobalt sixty-Beam Therapy Unit. The 16,000-pound cobalt unit was a radiation machine designed to treat cancer. With ten times as much power as the hospital’s preexisting X-ray machine, it was able to penetrate deeper into cancerous tissue, yet cause less harm to surrounding, healthy tissue. The machine was the first of its kind in Dallas, and among the first in the entire southwest. It was purchased with a $75,000 gift from Charles Sammons.

In the late 1950s and ’60s, Mr. Sammons made numerous contributions to the hospital. His gifts enabled the facility to continue to upgrade its technology, establish a nuclear medicine department to aid in the diagnosis and treatment of disease, and further cancer research through a new virology lab and additional funding. In 1973, Mr. Sammons donated an additional $1 million to the hospital, which helped to establish the Charles A. Sammons Cancer Center. Mr. Sammons donated the money as a “challenge gift,” which was meant to inspire others to dig into their own pockets. The nature of the gift forced Mr. Sammons to make his contribution public. Though ever humble, he did so reluctantly. In a letter to Boone Powell, Sr., executive director of Baylor University Medical Center, Mr. Sammons wrote: “We would very much prefer that there be no publicity of this matter at this time. However I realize that a gift of this kind helps bring further similar gift funds that will be needed for the project.”

Charles Sammons’ challenge successfully encouraged other donors. The hospital was able to collect enough money to build the Center, which was dedicated in January 1977. The facility served as a hub for the hospital’s oncology branch, housing Baylor’s department of radiation therapy and treatment services for cancer. It was stocked with sophisticated equipment, including an eighteen-million-volt electron beam therapy linear accelerator. This state-of-the-art tool delivered previously unavailable precision in radiation treatment. In a Dallas Times Herald article, Dr. Reuben Adams, chairman of the medical staff that planned the institute, explained that the Center’s focus would “be directed toward bringing the latest advances in cancer control methods, both diagnostic and therapeutic, to the patient, hopefully resulting in improved chances of survival in many types of malignancies.”

Years later, Baylor had not forgotten the generosity that enabled the hospital to accelerate its work in the field of oncology. “Thanks to Charles Sammons’ vision, his planning and his support, the Cancer Center is a reality, as are advances in understanding and treating the disease. We look forward to the future, knowing that we’re building on a firm foundation laid by Mr. Sammons and other dedicated individuals,” said Boone Powell, Jr., who became president and CEO of Baylor University Medical Center in 1980.

Charles Sammons’ generosity reached beyond what he alone could offer. He inspired those around him to give as well. The employees of Reserve Life’s home office held a Founder’s Day each year, during which they raised money to give to a charity of their choice. Mr. Sammons matched the amount they raised. One longtime friend of Mr. Sammons, Harry Blomberg, sent Mr. Sammons a check for the Cancer Center every year on Mr. Sammons’ birthday. He always enclosed a letter, often joking, “I could not find a necktie that I thought you would like so instead I enclose a birthday gift that I know you will like.”

The Beneficiaries of Value

Charles Sammons made considerable contributions to the advancement of oncology, which unquestionably benefited many patients. But perhaps one of his most significant gifts was not to a charity at all, though he cared deeply for the recipients. In 1978, Charles Sammons created an employee stock ownership plan (ESOP), giving his workforce ownership of what they helped create.

The concept of an employee stock ownership plan was developed in the 1956 by Louis Kelso. A lawyer, investment banker, and economic thinker, Mr. Kelso argued for a binary theory of economics and co-authored The Capitalist Manifesto and its follow-up, The New Capitalists. He believed that capitalism would be stronger if all workers, not merely a few stockholders, shared ownership of capital-producing assets, including the company itself. Initially, few benefited from his idea. Congress had yet to define the ESOP. This meant that the ability to borrow money to buy stock for participants was based on Internal Revenue Service rulings and had no clear legislative authorization. Thus, many companies shied away from it.

But in 1973, in the Montpelier Room of Washington, D.C.’s Madison Hotel, Mr. Kelso met with Senator Russell Long. Senator Long was chairman of the Senate Finance Committee, which was one of the tax-writing arms of Congress. Mr. Kelso convinced Senator Long that employee benefit law should not only permit but also encourage tax benefits for ESOPs. That same year Congress passed the Regional Rail Reorganization Act, legislatively defining ESOPs for the first time. In 1974, a legislative framework was established for ESOPs in the Employee Retirement Income Security Act, which governs employee benefit plans. Following this legislation, ESOPs became much more widespread.

Ken Mutzel, then CFO of Sammons Enterprises, introduced the ESOP concept to Charles Sammons in 1973. According to current chairman Bob Korba, two significant factors made the ESOP a logical option for Mr. Sammons. “Creating the concept of employee ownership was the main one,” he said. “And the second critical piece was that it provided a vehicle for his daughter and her children to sell stock, which they had inherited as a result of the death of Rosine Sammons.” Mary Anne Cree and her children had a great deal of net worth tied up in the company’s stock. While it was a valuable investment, it was not a liquid asset. Initially, the only market for their stock was either Sammons Enterprises or Charles Sammons himself. The ESOP created new shareholders to whom their stock could be sold.

At first, Charles Sammons saw the ESOP as a way to provide for both his family and his employees. And while that remained an important goal, his thoughts on the ESOP evolved over time. “He became more and more intrigued by the concept of employee ownership and what he thought were the real benefits,” said Bob Korba. “He was very interested in growing the company and keeping the company together.” In light of this growing interest, Charles Sammons wanted to change his will. He hoped to designate the ESOP as the first beneficiary of the stock in his estate. Mr. Sammons wrote a letter to his attorney, Vester Hughes, saying, “It may be so that all or much of my stock can be given directly to ESOP without taxation.” The $26 million tax he had paid more than twenty years prior was still very present in his mind. He feared that Elaine Sammons might face the same consequence upon his death.

While Mr. Sammons’ doubt was well-founded at the time, a few business leaders around the country had begun to support the idea of allowing ESOPs to be treated as charities. “Congress wasn’t sold on the idea,” explained Vester Hughes. “But I told him that it might be worth it to spend time, energy, effort, and money to try to get it done.” Charles Sammons was in his eighties at this time. Mr. Hughes realized that while legislation might eventually allow for Mr. Sammons to donate stock to the ESOP without being taxed, it might not happen during Mr. Sammons’ lifetime. “We set up a charitable remainder trust,” Mr. Hughes said.

Ever the visionary, Charles Sammons planned for the possibility of change even after his death. He saw the ESOP as a worthwhile risk. “I’m not sure how he thought the ESOP was going to work when he first established it,” said Bob Korba. “As he became more familiar with it, he saw how it could be an incentive for the workforce. And I think he also felt that at the end of the day the people who are creating all this value are the employees, and why shouldn’t they be the beneficiaries of it?”

To demonstrate the benefit of the ESOP, Bob Korba cited the company’s performance. He noted that in both the holding company and all of Sammon’s subsidiaries, Sammons companies perform at the highest levels. “The result has been tremendous,” he said. “The workforce is more enthusiastic about what they do, care more about their jobs, work harder, and perform the best they can. And, ultimately, they are the people who get the benefits of all their efforts.” The evidence is also in the value of the company’s stock, which continues to increase. “I’ve been participating in the ESOP since it was established more than thirty years ago. The value of the shares the first year was $15. And the end of 2007, it was $409 a share,” Mr. Korba said. “We’ve been able to create value in years when the rest of the world hasn’t, like after the dot.com bust and after 9/11. We’ve been able to create value during all of those years, and I think a lot of that is due to the ESOP and an energized workforce.”

A Vehicle for Giving

As a philanthropist, Charles Sammons cast a wide net, giving to a range of causes. To facilitate his generosity, he created the Sammons Dallas Foundation. Recipients of his philanthropy included the Salvation Army; the Educational Trust Fund Commission of the Catholic Diocese of Dallas; the Communities Foundation of Texas, which provides grants to help address community needs; and area hospitals including Baylor University Medical Center, Methodist Dallas Medical Center, and UT Southwestern Medical Center–St. Paul.

The foundation was more than an avenue for charity, however. It established some order to Mr. Sammons’ estate planning, which suffered after the death of Rosine Sammons. Because Texas is a community property state, Mr. Sammons’ wealth was owned jointly by him and his wife. When she died, it created an estate tax liability of more than $26 million dollars. To pay this debt, Mr. Sammons had to liquidate several of his holdings. These included the two profitable insurance companies, George Washington Life Insurance Company and Pyramid Life Insurance Company, and a few hotels. “He was very sensitive to the payment of estate tax,” noted Vester Hughes, of Mr. Sammons’ response to the debt, “and he had no intention of ever paying that much again.” The tax exempt status of the charitable remainder trust and of the Sammons Dallas Foundation allowed Mr. Sammons to control where his money went upon his death without generating estate taxes.

Building an Artists’ Home

Charles Sammons began creating value in the 1930s with Reserve Life Insurance. In the mid-1980s, he was looking for a way to commemorate its upcoming fiftieth anniversary. Also during that time, renovations were beginning on Dallas’ historic Turtle Creek Pump Station. The plan for the $3-million-dollar project was to turn the building into a performing arts center. But it was a tough time for construction. Funds were scarce, and the nonprofit organization was competing with the Morton H. Meyerson Symphony Center, another Dallas performing arts building being constructed simultaneously.

Turtle Creek’s executive director, Mischa Semanitzky, a former symphony conductor with real estate development experience, was desperate to find a donor to complete the Center’s renovation. The stars aligned when Mr. Semanitzky had a chance encounter with Sammons employee Fred Gottschalk, who knew just the benefactor.

Charles Sammons was an active community leader, and Elaine Sammons was a longtime patron of the arts. The opportunity to help restore a community landmark as well as create a home for numerous local art organizations seemed the perfect way for them to commemorate Reserve Life Insurance’s success. Their contributions secured the Center’s path toward a better life. It also prompted a new name: the Sammons Center for the Arts.

The Ones Who Made It Happen

Built in 1909 by architectural firm C. A. Gill & Sons, the Turtle Creek Pump Station was Dallas’ sole water source until the 1930s. At that time it was relegated to a water meter repair and equipment storage facility for the Dallas Water Utility. In 1954, however, the city shut down all activity at the station, and the building was virtually abandoned. In fact, when Harry Hines Boulevard, which runs alongside the Center, was widened from two lanes to six in the 1950s, the southwest corner of the building was actually removed to make room for the road. This resulted in a partially diagonal wall that now runs the length of the building’s west side, and a loss of roughly 5,000 usable square feet.

Though still owned by the city, the building sat idle for nearly thirty years. On June 24, 1981, it was designated a historic landmark by the Dallas City Council. With its previously uncertain future safe, the oldest public city building in Dallas was ready to serve a new purpose. The city solicited suggestions for the building’s use, and accepted a proposal put forth by Jo Kurth Jagoda, president of the Greater Dallas Youth Orchestra. She recommended that the building be used by a coalition of nonprofit arts organizations.

Initially, this simply meant that local performing arts groups could rent space in the building for rehearsals and administrative tasks. No one realized that the Center would come to provide so much more. Today, in addition to the rehearsal, performance, and meeting spaces, the Center offers management assistance to its tenants. “We help groups find health insurance programs, choreographers; we help them apply for city grants,” noted the Center’s executive director, Joanna St. Angelo.

The Center has also created the Dallas Arts Resource System (DARS), which it calls a “business incubator program.” DARS provides tools such as mailboxes, copy and fax services, a library/information center, and even an on-site notary. It also contains an on-site technology center with computer equipment, Internet access, and software including accounting programs and desktop publishing. “Our model proves that this is the most efficient way to provide resources and facilities to performing arts groups,” Ms. St. Angelo said. She believes that the secret to the Center’s success was its flexibility with growth. The Center’s staff allowed for change organically, as it was needed.

As the oldest and largest facility of its kind, Sammons Center for the Arts is now a model for other cities looking to provide local talent a place to work and hone their craft. “Every community has artists and vacant property,” explained Ms. St. Angelo. But she acknowledges that the key final ingredient can be hard to come by. “What every community doesn’t have is a Charles and Elaine Sammons to help make it happen.”

In the later years of his life, Charles Sammons developed Parkinson’s disease. Though it never progressed past the early stages, he did have slight trembling in his extremities and was advised not to walk without the help of others. This was due to the fact that he could lose his balance and fall. For many people in their eighties, this would mean retirement. Not for Charles Sammons. It simply meant that instead of going to the office, he brought the office home. “He had a little seating area, there were a couple of soft chairs around the coffee table, and that’s where he conducted business,” said Bob Korba.

Little else changed for Charles Sammons during “retirement.” In fact, some might argue that bringing the office home inspired him to work even more. As Bob Korba recalled, “He would pick up the phone on a Sunday morning and call the office and be frustrated when nobody answered, until Mrs. Sammons would say, ‘Well Charles, you know, it’s actually Sunday morning.’”

Reading was still a large part of his day, though it was the one area in which he did begin to struggle as the years went on. In a memo to his longtime secretary, Doris Hartman, he described his worsening eyesight: "I have had to have a lot of stuff read to me by you and others, and may later try to get the services of a professional reader to pick out for me the stories and articles from magazines and papers and attempt to cover items of special interest, such as cable TV; life, health and accident insurance; printing; hotels; travel agencies; and various other things in which we have special interest. I really think my inability to see well bothers me more now than having to get around with a cane or a wheelchair or sometimes with special help."

Bob Korba, however, believed Charles Sammons’ claim of poor eyesight was only partially true. Mr. Korba explained that Mr. Sammons had a keen sense of humor, which went unseen except by those who knew him best. Mr. Korba was convinced that Mr. Sammons could see more than he let on. He described a scenario that took place just months before Charles Sammons’ death: "We were down in the Dominican Republic at a Jack Tar Hotel we owned, one in Puerta Plata. And late in the afternoon, he said, 'You know, do you mind? Let’s go out to the beach and let’s visit out there.' He always liked to visit in the afternoon and talk business. He was in his wheelchair, and I rolled him out to the beach, and there was a concrete spot before we got near the sand where we could actually stop. The water was only thirty feet away. And so as we were sitting (I had my back to the beach, and he was looking out at the water) all of a sudden I noticed he was distracted, and I said, 'Is there something distracting you?' And he said,'Bob, you’ve got to turn around and look at this.' So I turned around, and there were two women walking, and they were unbelievably scantily clad. And I said,'Mr. Sammons, you know, you’re not supposed to have very good vision.' And he says,'You know, most of the time I don’t.' "

A Visionary Passes, but Leaves SEI in Capable Hands

Charles Sammons died on November 12, 1988, at St. Paul Medical Center in Dallas. His passing left a void in the community, and in all the lives he so personally touched. It did not, however, leave Sammons Enterprises in disorder. He was actively involved in the company until his very last days, and Charles Sammons was too thorough a businessman to leave without securing leadership and strength at the top of his company. On January 1, 1988, Charles Sammons appointed Bob Korba, the company’s general counsel, to be his successor as CEO. (Mr. Korba’s role continued to evolve in January 2009, when he became chairman.)

Mr. Sammons had actually broached the idea of becoming CEO to Mr. Korba as early as March 1987. Never having been trained to run a business, Mr. Korba balked at the notion. “The closest I’d come to doing that was managing a legal department. I had a handful of lawyers and support staff working for me. And I just felt I wasn’t qualified to do the job,” Mr. Korba explained.

But Mr. Sammons’ determination eventually wore away Mr. Korba’s uncertainty. “I think, on reflection, the reason why he wanted me to do it was not because I could run a business, which I couldn’t. He thought I would do two things for him after he had passed away. One was to take care of his family, and the other was to keep the organization together and not let it be sold off a piece at a time,” Mr. Korba said.

It was always about more than business for Charles Sammons. He cared about the people involved, and chose a successor who would uphold all of his priorities. Another key to Sammon’s ongoing success was Elaine Sammons. Named to the company’s board of directors six years prior to Charles Sammons’ passing, she became chairman of the board after his death. Though she had taken an active role within the company for years, as chairman she worked with Bob Korba to approve major company decisions.

“She reminded me a lot of Mr. Sammons,” noted Bob Korba. “He was very, very active and knew everything that was going on in the company. She was the same way.” Also like her husband, Mrs. Sammons was an avid reader, combing through the Dallas Morning News, USA Today, and the Wall Street Journal every day. “On a regular basis I received articles from her that she cut out with a note on them, ‘Have you seen this?’ or ‘How does this affect our businesses?’” Mr. Korba said.

Given her breadth of knowledge and interest in the business, it is not surprising that Mrs. Sammons and Mr. Korba didn’t always agree. “We had very lively exchanges. We could discuss a particular business investment or an issue or a personnel matter for several weeks,” Mr. Korba said. “And she always had questions. And they were good questions. We worked through all of them. And there were times when I thought something was a good idea and she didn’t, and we didn’t do it. Based on our track record, her judgment’s probably been better than mine on a lot of things. She had incredible instincts.”

As a leader, Mrs. Sammons expected a lot from the workforce. But she also genuinely cared about Sammons employees. It was a characteristic that transcended her role as chairman. As recently as December 2008, she attended the Sammons holiday party to spend time with the staff. “She played blackjack, and was winning,” said thirty-seven-year company veteran Mamie Mobley. When Midland National celebrated its ninetieth anniversary, Mrs. Sammons traveled to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, to mark the occasion. With her typical flair, she donned a rhinestone blouse and cowboy hat and boots for the barbeque that capped off the event.

Mrs. Sammons was also known for remembering even the smallest details of employees’ lives. “I can’t tell you how many times she would bring up something I said a year or two ago,” Ms. Mobley said. No point was too minute for Mrs. Sammons, even the health of an employee’s pet.

In addition to Bob Korba as CEO and Elaine Sammons as chairman, the final piece of security Charles Sammons put in place for his company was Vester Hughes, his longtime attorney. Mr. Hughes was named Special Trustee of Charles Sammons’ estate. In this role, Mr. Hughes was to ensure Mr. Sammons’ wishes for his charitable remainder trust and his enterprise were being carried out. In the years after Charles Sammons’ death, Mr. Hughes worked diligently to carry out his wishes.

Mrs. Sammons also carried on Charles Sammons’ personal and professional charity work after his death. She encouraged the company’s subsidiaries to remain actively involved in their respective communities. As one of her many personal charitable contributions, she continued to support the Sammons Center for the Arts, and served as chairman emeritus for twenty years. Medical research remained an important charitable interest as well. In 2003 she donated $1 million to the University of Texas, Southwestern Medical Center in Dallas. Four years later, she contributed an additional $1 million.

The gifts helped established distinguished chairs for both cancer and pulmonary research. Mrs. Sammons also gave generously to the Laura Bush Foundation for American Libraries and the Highland Park Library Renovation Project. In 2004, Mrs. Sammons established The Elaine Dewey Sammons Foundation to manage her contributions. Like her husband, Mrs. Sammons shied away from publicity. Her philanthropy was done quietly, so much so that many never realized the extent her impact had on their communities.

Steadily Pressing Forward

Today, Sammons Enterprises is making great strides in all of its business areas. In 2007, the company’s market value exceeded $3.3 billion for the first time in its history. Many of its subsidiaries turned in record revenue and earnings, and the company as a whole had record assets of more than $36 billion and record revenue of $3.4 billion.

The company’s growth is seen in more than just its financials. In the years since Charles Sammons’ death, Sammons Enterprises has maintained his vision, which was to create value through diversified and decentralized operations. According to Bob Korba, if Charles Sammons were to evaluate the business today, he would see his original business philosophies, concepts, operations, and strategies still hard at work.” Innovation, another of Charles Sammons’ business characteristics, is also still central to each subsidiary’s operations. This means that they are often evolving to maintain their competitive edge, leading the change within their respective industries.

Sammons continues to focus on its people. It took roughly fifteen years, but by 2008 the company had created an extensive career development program. Each senior executive has both a personal and professional development plan, including external professional coaches as well as internal mentors. “And now that has moved into the mid-management level, and it’s working its way into the line staff,” added Bob Korba. “And our focus on people just grows every year.”

And as long as Sammons Enterprises continues to hold true to what Charles Sammons built, management is optimistic that growth will continue. As he assessed the uncertain economical landscape in late 2008, Mr. Korba spoke with the confidence of someone who knew the strength of the foundation on which his company stood. “While a lot of people are hunkering down in the foxholes with their steel-pot helmets on, hoping to survive, we’re charging.”

Epilogue: A Conversation in Heaven

On Wednesday, January 14, 2009, Elaine Sammons passed away. At her funeral, Bob Korba remembered the sharp, adventuresome woman who had traveled around the world three times and refused to be called anything other than chairman. “She didn’t waste a breath,” Mr. Korba recalled. “She knew only one speed: wide open. I think she would agree that it was a great ride.”

In bidding her a final farewell, Mr. Korba imagined that Charles and Elaine Sammons were reunited in heaven, and he surmised about the conversation they might have. “First, Mr. Sammons would ask her why her salary as chairman was so much greater than his.” Admitting that she would have to charm her way through that question, and perhaps tiptoe around why she sold some of his favorite companies, Mr. Korba reached the heart of their exchange. “And then I believe Mr. Sammons would thank her for furthering his vision and dream of perpetuating the company and creating ever increasing value for the benefit of current and future generations of employees.”