A lady in a faded gingham dress and her husband, dressed in a
homespun threadbare suit, stepped off the train in Boston and walked timidly
without an appointment into the Harvard University President's outer office. The
secretary could tell in a moment that such backwoods, country hicks had no
business at Harvard and probably didn't even deserve to be in Cambridge. She
frowned. "We want to see the President," the man said softly.
"He'll be
busy all day," the secretary snapped.
"We'll wait," the lady replied. For
hours, the secretary ignored them, hoping that the couple would finally become
discouraged and go away. They didn't and the secretary grew frustrated and
finally decided to disturb the President, even though it was a chore she always
regretted.
"Maybe if they just see you for a few minutes, they'll leave,"
she told him. He sighed in exasperation and nodded. Someone of his importance
obviously didn't have the time to spend with them, but he detested gingham
dresses and homespun suits cluttering up his outer office.
The President,
stern-faced with dignity, strutted toward the couple. The lady told him, "We had
a son who attended Harvard for one year. He loved Harvard. He was happy here.
But about a year ago, he was accidentally killed. And my husband and I would
like to erect a memorial to him, somewhere on campus."
The President
wasn't touched, he was shocked. "Madam," he said gruffly. "We can't put up a
statue for every person who attended Harvard and died. If we did, this place
would look like a cemetery."
"Oh, no," the lady explained quickly. "We
don't want to erect a statue. We thought we would like to give a building to
Harvard."
The president rolled his eyes. He glanced at the gingham dress and
homespun suit, then exclaimed, "A building! Do you have any earthly idea how
much a building costs? We have over seven and a half million dollars in the
physical plant at Harvard."
For a moment the lady was silent. The president
was pleased. He could get rid of them now. And the lady turned to her husband
and said quietly, "Is that all it costs to start a university? Why don't we just
start our own?" Her husband nodded.
The President's face wilted in
confusion and bewilderment. And Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford walked away,
travelling to Palo Alto, California where they established the university that
bears their name, a memorial to a son that Harvard no longer cared
about.
You can easily judge the character of others by how they treat
those who can do nothing for them or to them.
Malcolm Forbes
I have always liked this story since first reading it last year. And even though Standford's own official history and archives discredits this story as being nothing more than fiction, it still teaches an important lesson.
Enjoy!!
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