It's no secret that going to college at a private institution is generally a pretty expensive undertaking. With college tuition on the rise, many students have had to get themselves into pretty serious debt to be able to afford their first-choice university, or have opted to go for a second-choice in order to save money. With almost a trillion dollars in federal student loans going unpaid, it remains to be seen which decision will be the most prudent for the most number of students in general; however, as long as there are still worthy applicants, universities will always try and find a way to help them pay.
That's where people like Don Winston come in. Winston's been with the University of Southern California since 1974, and he's spent the vast majority of that stay taking money from rich people, and giving it to other people. That's not to say the money didn't always stay in generally well-off hands, but his ability to extract money from wealthy donors is legendary. Winston likes to say that fundraising (or “Development” as the university likes to call it) is a people person job, and that “people give to people.” That may be very true, but it's hard not to think that people are giving because of him.
When you walk into the newly renovated Heritage Hall building, which is one of Winston's most recent projects, by the way, you definitely get the feeling that it's had some work done. Not in a completely obvious, Dolly Parton/MJ kind of way, but in a tasteful, “was their nose always that straight?” sort of fashion that carries the musty smell that USC deep pockets sometimes have. That was evident during the unveiling, a formal affair featuring a taped-to-the-ground red carpet, a real live Tommy Trojan impersonator on a real live horse, and photo opportunities and champagne to spare.
That sort of semi-self-aware pomp is a big part of the presentation of the Hall. As I enter the building for the first time, I see a tour group getting briskly lead through. I emphasize the briskness because, frankly, the building's quiet, and echo-y, and no one likes being loud for long when everyone else is not. The receptionist seated in the corner is in a Trojan Polo. She's work-study, she just got the job last week, she's not really sure who Don Winston is (although the wing upstairs is named after him), but if I head up the stairs (or the “courtesy” elevator, as though service elevator was an option for a building with crème marble floors and wall to wall flat screens, I should find someone who can help me out.
Deciding that no, my shirt has no collar and I doubt she'd be interested anyway, I don't ask for the receptionist's number and instead head up the stairs, businesslike and modern a brushed metal look and ice-cold touch. Getting to the Winston Wing isn't hard: there are only two other options, and they're all excellently uninviting behind their thick glass doors that demand to only be opened with a purpose. The development arm is housed in the wing, and it's there I get the first signs of life. The bustle of a building less well-heeled is a welcome sight; I enter, chat with the receptionist, who is having fun since she started work last Tuesday, and get shown to Mr. Winston's office
Don Winston is 79 years old, but you'd think he was in his fifties with the energy he brings to a room. His long-time friend, Jon Kotler, a professor of Media Law in the Annenberg School a couple dozen yards across the way, said later to me that Winston is the kind of guy where every opportunity is a fundraising opportunity. If that was the case, I had trouble finding that out. Winston is like your grandfather, only he doles out seats on the 40-yard line to millionaires instead of hard candy to younger cousins. Winston was also doling out the stories; as his secretary Jill, says, he's recapping his career.
It's been a good one, too, and one worth hearing about. If you'd like to hear the full interview, look below; otherwise, check the sound embedded above.