[1]Investing in Community book cover: Investing in Community – The History and Legacy of the Nord Family of Ohio“This is the story of a remarkable family; a family whose positive outlook, inventiveness, international business acumen, strong ideals, and good deeds have had a major impact. It is a story of good times and bad, of hard work and its rewards, and of farsighted philanthropy. More basically, it is a story of a family deeply committed to community service and leadership. The story begins with Otto and Mary Erickson Nord, who emigrated from Sweden in the 1870’s and raised six children on their farm in Ashtabula County, Ohio. It continues with their son Walter, who came to Lorain County, Ohio shortly before World War I to supervise machinery for a sandstone quarrying company but soon became an entrepreneur. Along with his wife, Virginia, Walter established a tradition of corporate and community leadership and wide-ranging philanthropy. The unfolding tale reveals how Walter and Virginia’s children, Mary, Eric and Evan, and their succeeding generations have carried on the family tradition in their own ways.”
from: Investing in Community – The History and Legacy of the Nord Family of Ohio
For copies of this book, please contact the staff at the Oberlin Heritage Center [2]
| Attachment | Size |
|---|---|
| Interview_1992_on_NFF_origins_and_History.pdf [3] | 79.7 KB |
Eric Thomas Nord: Reflections on the Life of Eric Thomas Nord John Mullaney The Nord Family Foundation June 27, 2008 Finney Chapel OberlinFoundations are a uniquely American phenomenon with roots back to the 17th century. Almost all charitable foundations are grounded in an experience of benevolence beckoning people to think of their neighbors in need. Thomas Jefferson saw charity as an essential component to uphold the democracy. Addressing the vestrymen in each parish of Virginia, Jefferson insisted that philanthropy was charitable motivation that, when acted upon, provided the well intended with, “the approbation of their neighbors, and the distinction which that gives them.” I can imagine Eric chiding Mr. Jefferson letting him know that philanthropy should never be done to seek the approval of neighbors. Eric’s philanthropy was more closely aligned with other Founders of the American Republic who believed that benevolent and unselfish acts by an individual towards others was a mainstay of civil society and essential to the survival of the democracy.
The staff and I had the pleasure of seeing Eric on his last visit to the foundation offices two weeks ago. He, Jane and their son Richard made a point of stopping by for lunch after visiting the Nordson offices in Amherst. In front of Jane and Richard, Eric told us how proud he was of the foundation and of its accomplishments. After a pause, we swallowed and began passing Kleenex around the table, I thought it my role to break the silence and said, “Well Eric, it’s thanks to you that we and your family can continue this great work.” His response was, “well I didn’t have much to do with its success.” It was a deeply touching and joyful experience for all of us.
After we said good-bye I sensed he had come to Amherst to run the last lap. The visit haunted me, and my thoughts on his visit that day brought me to one of the most ancient prayers of the Christian tradition known as The Magnificat. I gave myself the luxury of listening to Johann Sebastian Bach’s composition of that wonderfully meditative piece. Program notes tell us; this is the joyous prayer that Mary, mother of Jesus sings as she is greeted by her sister Elizabeth. Her prayer, it says, cooperates in a unique way with the Father's plan of loving kindness. When I heard of Eric’s passing I once again centered my reflections by listening to the Magnificat and in particular the first two lines:
My soul magnifies the Lord,
And my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.
Now, I will not give a religious speech, and save that for Fr. Brian. I will however draw an analogy that Eric was the incarnation of loving kindness and how his life has magnified that goodness in many he came to know. Ed Campbell described his devotion to the Nordson Corporation where his business provided livelihood to many that were members of that corporate family. It also was a place for some of the most talented engineering minds to find innovative products for the market.
I speak of the Nord Family Foundation which, together with his brother Evan and dear friend Bill Ginn, was established to allow people in the community to benefit from the wealth of the company and later, from the family’s wealth.
The foundation is however more than an institution that just writes checks. The foundation is a civic organization that aspires to engage the entire community in the betterment of the social fabric. Since it was founded, the Nord Family Foundation has distributed more than $70 million dollars. What people may not realize is that many of the grants made to organizations have been what we call “Challenge” grants where the foundation will give a certain portion but then challenge the organizations board or other members of the community to match yet another portion of the grant. Some of Eric’s greatest challenge grants include: The Community Foundation of Lorain County, The Oberlin Early Childhood Center, Oberlin Community Services, and The Splash Zone. In almost all cases, people stepped up to meet the challenge and make contributions. If nothing else, Evan and Eric wanted to have the Foundation serve as a place that would encourage everyone to give a little more of themselves. In short, Eric challenges all of us to magnify our kindness and in turn celebrate the joy that comes with giving.
The foundation is a FAMILY foundation which is celebrating its twentieth year this year. With stock from their mother’s estate Eric and Evan’s families, along with the children of their sister Mary were invited to participate in an institution that would propagate the spirit of generosity and giving that began with their own parents Walter and Virginia Nord. In 1988, The Nord Family Foundation began.
The foundation is there to enable the family to explore their own passion for others. The foundation nurtures their spirit of care and kindness, allowing them to magnify the goodness in their own hearts and gift themselves as well as money to the communities they serve. Just like the corporation he founded, the family Foundation invites trustees and the nonprofit organizations to work together to develop creative and innovative solutions to society’s challenges. Through the foundation, Eric’s core of innovation and entrepreneurship took another form.
Now, Eric was never one to let money come to someone easily, and that spirit exists in this foundation. Just as he and Evan were known to put challenges onto grantees, they also threw down challenges to the trustees and members of the foundation.
It’s nice to have a passion but you have to work for the money. The foundation is comprised of twelve people, nine family descendants and three non-family members. Not one person is paid for their service on the board. Trustees give freely of their time and effort.
The board is not a homogeneous club of privilege. It is an interesting and eclectic group and I believe Eric wanted it that way. I can hear Eric reflecting on its composition: we have artists, engineers, (ok so far) Republican’s, (all right but careful), Democrats (oh god!) and throw in a Libertarian or two (to this he might have put his hands together and said, Swedes can be silent in many languages) and you get something that reflects the halls of the U.S. Congress. (Sometimes we check ahead of time whether to bring bicycle helmets and shin guards).
We have members who are wealthy and many who worry about paying for their children’s school or braces. Some have to travel distances to participate in the discussions and even in the grim Ohio Februaries – they do come! Passions often run high, and grant requests are scrutinized and debated and the board struggles and prods to make the wisest decisions for investments in the communities. Site visits are a requirement of their stewardship on the foundation. Nothing is more rewarding and humbling to go on site visits to meet with those heroes of our society who choose to serve the neediest of the towns and cities where we live. Our board meetings are long and, at times exhausting. It’s hard work and Eric liked that. He enjoyed the struggle, enjoyed hearing the differing opinions, he loved to watch the political conversation and took deep pleasure with the outcome. He often has amusing comments of his own. Of one trustee he said wryly, “That one is very smart and deeply read --- not widely read, just deeply read.” Nothing gave him greater pleasure than to watch his family scruff and tumble about issues of importance to the community.
Whenever he was asked for his opinion on an organization, Eric would show stunning knowledge of the administration, the mission and accomplishments. Even in his final year, he wanted to hear about what was going on with various organizations, and what kind of help they needed. He had a profound respect for the people who ran these organizations.
In addition to remarkably successful grantmaking the foundation has enabled its members to give of their own passion:
Evan and his father’s passion for mentally challenged people gave rise to The Nord Center and Vocational Guidance Services in Elyria.
Jane Nord with her passion for art and educating young children resulted in, among other things the New Union Center for the Arts and the KidSmart program at the Oberlin Early Childhood Center.
Gini Barbarto’s love of Opera enables us to support Opera programs in schools throughout NE Ohio.
Cindy Nord with her passion for caring for abused women and children resulted in The Nurturing Center in Columbia, South Carolina and Common Ground here in Oberlin.
Pam Ignat and her passion for helping homeless women in Denver resulted in a fantastic day-shelter for women known as The Gathering Place.
The list can go on and on…
In the next generation we Erin Ignat Jorgenson’s passion for young men-and women with eating disorders created an educational theatre company and Eric Barbato’s passion for bettering the lives of poor families in Appalachia resulted in squadrons of youngsters from Cleveland building homes for our country’s neediest families..
In May, we lost a member Bruce Nord who, in the final years of his life was able to use the foundation to magnify his own passion and love for children at the Montessori School in Anderson S.C. In that case, the foundation served as a source of healing and redemption.
These are people who do not use the foundation to push a personal agenda, but to usher the foundation to discover new areas of need and care.
At our most recent meeting last week, Eric’s nephew Ethan Nord exclaimed to the members, “Being on this board has made me a better citizen.”
That is what American philanthropy provides, not just checks but an opportunity for all who participate to become larger than themselves and magnify the kindness and goodness that lies in their hearts.
The foundation is a continuation of the incarnation of kindness and benevolence that was Eric’s life.
In the foundation archives, we have video tape of Eric talking about the wealth that generated the foundation. Eric stated, “I just consider myself to have been a lucky guy and my responsibility to share that good fortune with others.” That you did dear friend in your own inimitable style.
Eric, as a servant of the foundation and as spokesperson for the thousands of people who have benefited from your magnificent kindness and love, I thank you for showing us what true citizenship means. Your life has been a magnificent love song and we thank you for the teaching us the verse!
Evan Nord was my Uncle, my mother’s brother. All who knew him would agree that he was a remarkable man, a quiet presence, a diligent worker and a man that not only cared about, but cared for his fellow man. He had an extraordinary passion for helping those who were struggling with life, especially if their struggle was from no fault of their own. He had a passion for preserving history for future generations. Today, I want to tell you a few stories about Evan, that I hope in a personal way will describe the man that I knew and loved.
During the time that my brother David and I were growing up, Evan lived just down the street from us here in Oberlin. He was a bachelor at the time, and was a frequent visitor to our home. He was our favorite guest. It seems that nearly every Saturday morning we would accompany him to “the shop” while he cleaned up and few things and we familiarized ourselves with the sights and considerable smells of a machine shop. We waited anxiously for the candy bar that was always bought for us from that green vending machine in the central building. David had a Baby Ruth, I would get a Clark bar.
He loved that place. He loved the look of the steel parts. He would show them to us, admire the finishes. He carried this love with him into his restoration projects. While his arrival was always characterized by a storm of activity and plaster dust, his departure left a wake of restored exteriors and interiors decorated with surfaces and appliances of gleaming stainless steel. I think he was born to be a mechanical engineer.
He would join us for part of our annual vacation. He would come to the cottage on lake Michigan, and be our guest, our pal, our entertainer was a central part of some of our best times there. He and my mother were a close as siblings can be. He and my father were the best of friends. He was a part of the family in those days, and I am sure we were one of his few diversions in a period when the work of maintaining a struggling business and starting up a new one were particularly challenging.
He was young then, and he taught us how to wink at the girls (mostly from afar) and mutter “hey babe” (mostly when the car windows were shut) at the cute girls on the sidewalk as he drove by. In spite of this obvious interest, and also in spite of my parents’ diligent efforts to get him (as we boys put it) hitched. Nothing worked. We had many “dinners at the house” where poor Evan was introduced to various single women in what I’m sure were long and difficult evenings. I don’t know how he put up with it.
Then, on the tennis court, he met Cindy and that was the end of that.
Evan married Cindy and adopted her three children Eric, Bruce and Katy as his own. They bought from my father, the house in which I grew up and there he and Cindy had Ethan and Alyson together. Evan, of course, immediately virtually dismantled the place and restored it with great care into the beautiful place that it is today. I visited the house from time to time and while I know that it was full of life, activity, and neighborhood kids when we were there, it seemed even more full of life with their family.
I remember being slack jawed visiting while I was on leave from the Navy. While Evan was great with us when we were kids, there was “no roughhousing.” We sat in the living room and carried on a conversation with kids coming in and out, Alyson hanging from one of Daddy’s arms, dogs barking and running around. It was amazing. I, being a squared away Naval Officer asked “Evan, how do you put up with this? His answer: Put up with what? This was not the man that I grew up with.
Even though he now had a young and growing family, he did what he always had done, both led and labored to improve the community and help those in need. He became the president of what was by then the Nordson Foundation and with the help of that foundation, his own resources, his family and countless others he helped or started the Oberlin Early Childhood Center, the Oberlin Depot, the Center for Sightless, the old Oberlin Community Center, OHIO, and several of its properties, two community foundations and on and on and on. Like I say, he was indefagable.
Evan was a younger brother, living in the penumbra of a brilliant “older” brother. While I can tell you from experience that this is not a bad thing, it has its own set of tensions and challenges. Evan handled it well and together (along with countless others) he and Eric transformed a struggling machine shop into Nordson, an equipment manufacturing company that is to this day is independent in a time of merger mania and successful beyond what I expect was either of the brothers’ wildest expectations.
I worked there for a time, and in spite of being 25 years his junior, I could never keep up with him. But he was my mentor, my teacher and he was also clairvoyant. It seemed, that each and every time I turned off my machine to a adjust something or change a tool, he was there, at my elbow, asking what was wrong. How he knew, I will never know. It couldn’t have been the sound, the din in that place was deafening. I’m sure to this day, it was telepathy.
As time went on, daughter Katy wanted a horse. Just one. Maybe a little one. That little horse would start them on a path that would change their lives, completely. As time went on, he decided to retire from Nordson, while staying on the board until very recently, and move to South Carolina. As time went on he and Cindy built the most beautiful horse farm that I have ever seen that is now home to dozens of horses and countless show and competition awards. True to form, they take in foundling dogs at the farm with nearly two dozen dogs abandoned by others having found shelter and sustenance at Meadow Ridge Farm. I have been told by one who has been there, that when he passes on, he wants to come back as a Nord dog or a Nord horse. Whatever Evan or his family did, he wanted them to do and be the best.
Even though he moved away from Lorain County in body, he never moved away in spirit. The Nordson board meetings brought him back fairly often, as did foundation work, but often he just came be with his friends. It would be breakfast at IHOP, golf with old friends, followed by fried perch at the Polish Community Center in Lorain.
He was the first president of the Nord Family Foundation at its conversion in 1987. As its first president, he did a lot to establish and instill the traditions with which that foundation operates today. I illustrate those principles as follows. Every three years, the members of the foundation gather together for a retreat where the trustees report on the projects and progress of the foundation and the members, who give their advice a counsel to the trustees as to what they would like to see the foundation do in the future. Intent. Several years ago, we, the members more or less formally did what we had been doing for some time, informally: We asked the brothers for comment about where they would like to see the foundation go in the future. In the foundation world, they call this “donor intent.”
They were pretty tight lipped. They said very little about the “what” noting that the trustees would be far better informed about community needs at the time of such decisions that they could be now. Evan spoke somewhat more forcefully about the “where.” He wanted to be sure that the foundation continued to apply most of its future efforts in Lorain County.
But Evan was adamant about the “how.” He described in no uncertain terms that he wanted the foundation as an organization and the trustees as individuals to conduct the business of the foundation and relations with grant seekers as he always did, with honesty, unselfishness, forthrightness and always with sensitivity to preserve the dignity of the grantseeker. He wanted us always to view grants not as gifts but as investments, investments in the community.
I will tell you a story, that I told at the opening of the headquarters of the foundation at the Sandstone Center in Amherst. Evan gave that building to the foundation for its use and for the use of the community. He dedicated it to the memory of his sister Mary and my father and gave it as an anonymous gift. I was the president of the foundation at the time it was during a meeting with lawyers and architects that he made his wishes known. I could only smile and say to him: “Sure Evan, a gift this size, to the foundation, to be kept anonymous in Lorain County. Right.
But he insisted.
I know some of you were there at the dedication of that building, where I told this story, but I believe it is fitting to retell it today. It illustrates what kind of man Evan was.
Evan promised his father, Walter Nord that he, Evan would see to it that a sandstone and historical society was built in Amherst. Walter came to this part of the country to take a job as an engineer in the quarries and wanted to see that sandstone quarry history preserved.
Evan was mulling over where the center could be built, and one night in a dream, he saw the old sandstone Grange Hall on Milan Avenue. He thought that that hall and the surrounding largely vacant property would be ideal for the center he had in mind. He mustered his real estate and legal buddies and wrangled an invitation to the next Grange meeting.
At that meeting, they presented their proposal to the small number of graying heads that represented what was still extant of agriculture in Amherst, Ohio. The proposal was this: He, Evan would buy the Grange Hall, restore it, endow it and make it the centerpiece of the Sandstone Center. They, the Grange members, would have a lease to meet at the property for as long as they liked.
The grey heads huddled, took a vote and accepted the proposal in minutes. They had no concerns as to whether Evan was a man of his word. No one ever had that worry.
After the meeting and on the way out, one of the gentlemen came to Evan personally, shook his hand and thanked him with these words. “Mr. Nord, during our last meeting, we all struggled with the question of how we, the few remaining Grange members, could afford to keep the place going and open. None of us had an answer. So we then had a short prayer meeting to ask God for help.
“Mr. Nord, you are the answer to our prayer.”
Evan Nord was the answer to a lot of peoples’ prayers.
Evan spent his last days of good health preparing for a gathering of most of his extended family at the farm: It was a board and members meeting of the foundation.. He spent is days making sure the place was ship shape, and his evenings looking over the family tree, to make sure he keep all the names of all the children and straight. He fell ill as we gathered. He slept most of the time during his final illness, but he would awaken from time to time. Each of us had a chance to visit him, talk to him and have our hand squeezed in response. He saw most of his family during that final time.
If you can keep a secret, I will tell you that his family smuggled his beloved dog, Pickens in to see him in the hospital. The little dog sensed that there was trouble and gently snuggled next him. Evan patted his head one last time. Not long after that, Evan slipped away.
Now he returns to his beloved Lorain County to join his mother, father, his sister Mary, her husband Joe and the first of my generation to pass on, Chip, in the family plot at Westwood.
So all of us can be confident that while not today, it is after all Sunday, a day of rest, but tomorrow, the angels will be organized into work groups. They will be given their assignments and told where to go pick up their tools. Some, but probably not quite enough, instructions will be given about what to do and how to do it. Evan will probably miss a few details, because he will assume that the angels are as smart and knowledgeable about the tasks at hand as he is. Most of them will not be. But he will make it right, by making rounds, visiting each work group and straitening things out as they go along.
They will forge ahead. The tasks may very, but the will no doubt all fit under the rubric of: “let’s clean this place up.” Yes, Evan will find chores in paradise.
Most of the crews will be devoted to the clean-up and fix up, but not all of them. He will organize some other, special crews over which he will devote particular attention. These crews will be devoted to helping those -- fallen angels. Those crews will be busy helping where they can, inspiring others, and always bringing and keeping humility in their thoughts and demeanor. They will the work together and make investment in those are not so well adjusted to their surroundings.
Early some morning, not long from now, you might find yourself outside, just before dawn. Should that happen, I urge you to look up to the heavens. There you might just see the Morning Star, the brightest star in the sky. Actually, it is not a star, but it is the planet Venus, sort of a younger brother.. On that day, you might notice that it somehow looks different. If it does, join me in believing that Evan noticed it too, and saw as a beautiful historic property worthy of care, restoration and preservation. His crews got busy, and like so many properties around us here, it was restored, beautified and burnished for our enjoyment and for the enjoyment of generations to come.
That Venus will be like Evan was when he was among us. Shining brilliantly, full of energy, reflective, and up early in the morning.
All who have known either can not help but be inspired and awed by their light.
- by Joseph Ignat, at his memorial service, Oberlin, Ohio
Evan Nord was my Uncle, my mother’s brother. All who knew him would agree that he was a remarkable man, a quiet presence, a diligent worker and a man that not only cared about, but cared for his fellow man. He had an extraordinary passion for helping those who were struggling with life, especially if their struggle was from no fault of their own. He had a passion for preserving history for future generations. Today, I want to tell you a few stories about Evan, that I hope in a personal way will describe the man that I knew and loved.
During the time that my brother David and I were growing up, Evan lived just down the street from us here in Oberlin. He was a bachelor at the time, and was a frequent visitor to our home. He was our favorite guest. It seems that nearly every Saturday morning we would accompany him to “the shop” while he cleaned up and few things and we familiarized ourselves with the sights and considerable smells of a machine shop. We waited anxiously for the candy bar that was always bought for us from that green vending machine in the central building. David had a Baby Ruth, I would get a Clark bar.
He loved that place. He loved the look of the steel parts. He would show them to us, admire the finishes. He carried this love with him into his restoration projects. While his arrival was always characterized by a storm of activity and plaster dust, his departure left a wake of restored exteriors and interiors decorated with surfaces and appliances of gleaming stainless steel. I think he was born to be a mechanical engineer.
He would join us for part of our annual vacation. He would come to the cottage on lake Michigan, and be our guest, our pal, our entertainer was a central part of some of our best times there. He and my mother were a close as siblings can be. He and my father were the best of friends. He was a part of the family in those days, and I am sure we were one of his few diversions in a period when the work of maintaining a struggling business and starting up a new one were particularly challenging.
He was young then, and he taught us how to wink at the girls (mostly from afar) and mutter “hey babe” (mostly when the car windows were shut) at the cute girls on the sidewalk as he drove by. In spite of this obvious interest, and also in spite of my parents’ diligent efforts to get him (as we boys put it) hitched. Nothing worked. We had many “dinners at the house” where poor Evan was introduced to various single women in what I’m sure were long and difficult evenings. I don’t know how he put up with it.
Then, on the tennis court, he met Cindy and that was the end of that.
Evan married Cindy and adopted her three children Eric, Bruce and Katy as his own. They bought from my father, the house in which I grew up and there he and Cindy had Ethan and Alyson together. Evan, of course, immediately virtually dismantled the place and restored it with great care into the beautiful place that it is today. I visited the house from time to time and while I know that it was full of life, activity, and neighborhood kids when we were there, it seemed even more full of life with their family.
I remember being slack jawed visiting while I was on leave from the Navy. While Evan was great with us when we were kids, there was “no roughhousing.” We sat in the living room and carried on a conversation with kids coming in and out, Alyson hanging from one of Daddy’s arms, dogs barking and running around. It was amazing. I, being a squared away Naval Officer asked “Evan, how do you put up with this? His answer: Put up with what? This was not the man that I grew up with.
Even though he now had a young and growing family, he did what he always had done, both led and labored to improve the community and help those in need. He became the president of what was by then the Nordson Foundation and with the help of that foundation, his own resources, his family and countless others he helped or started the Oberlin Early Childhood Center, the Oberlin Depot, the Center for Sightless, the old Oberlin Community Center, OHIO, and several of its properties, two community foundations and on and on and on. Like I say, he was indefagable.
Evan was a younger brother, living in the penumbra of a brilliant “older” brother. While I can tell you from experience that this is not a bad thing, it has its own set of tensions and challenges. Evan handled it well and together (along with countless others) he and Eric transformed a struggling machine shop into Nordson, an equipment manufacturing company that is to this day is independent in a time of merger mania and successful beyond what I expect was either of the brothers’ wildest expectations.
I worked there for a time, and in spite of being 25 years his junior, I could never keep up with him. But he was my mentor, my teacher and he was also clairvoyant. It seemed, that each and every time I turned off my machine to a adjust something or change a tool, he was there, at my elbow, asking what was wrong. How he knew, I will never know. It couldn’t have been the sound, the din in that place was deafening. I’m sure to this day, it was telepathy.
As time went on, daughter Katy wanted a horse. Just one. Maybe a little one. That little horse would start them on a path that would change their lives, completely. As time went on, he decided to retire from Nordson, while staying on the board until very recently, and move to South Carolina. As time went on he and Cindy built the most beautiful horse farm that I have ever seen that is now home to dozens of horses and countless show and competition awards. True to form, they take in foundling dogs at the farm with nearly two dozen dogs abandoned by others having found shelter and sustenance at Meadow Ridge Farm. I have been told by one who has been there, that when he passes on, he wants to come back as a Nord dog or a Nord horse. Whatever Evan or his family did, he wanted them to do and be the best.
Even though he moved away from Lorain County in body, he never moved away in spirit. The Nordson board meetings brought him back fairly often, as did foundation work, but often he just came be with his friends. It would be breakfast at IHOP, golf with old friends, followed by fried perch at the Polish Community Center in Lorain.
He was the first president of the Nord Family Foundation at its conversion in 1987. As its first president, he did a lot to establish and instill the traditions with which that foundation operates today. I illustrate those principles as follows. Every three years, the members of the foundation gather together for a retreat where the trustees report on the projects and progress of the foundation and the members, who give their advice a counsel to the trustees as to what they would like to see the foundation do in the future. Intent. Several years ago, we, the members more or less formally did what we had been doing for some time, informally: We asked the brothers for comment about where they would like to see the foundation go in the future. In the foundation world, they call this “donor intent.”
They were pretty tight lipped. They said very little about the “what” noting that the trustees would be far better informed about community needs at the time of such decisions that they could be now. Evan spoke somewhat more forcefully about the “where.” He wanted to be sure that the foundation continued to apply most of its future efforts in Lorain County.
But Evan was adamant about the “how.” He described in no uncertain terms that he wanted the foundation as an organization and the trustees as individuals to conduct the business of the foundation and relations with grant seekers as he always did, with honesty, unselfishness, forthrightness and always with sensitivity to preserve the dignity of the grantseeker. He wanted us always to view grants not as gifts but as investments, investments in the community.
I will tell you a story, that I told at the opening of the headquarters of the foundation at the Sandstone Center in Amherst. Evan gave that building to the foundation for its use and for the use of the community. He dedicated it to the memory of his sister Mary and my father and gave it as an anonymous gift. I was the president of the foundation at the time it was during a meeting with lawyers and architects that he made his wishes known. I could only smile and say to him: “Sure Evan, a gift this size, to the foundation, to be kept anonymous in Lorain County. Right.
But he insisted.
I know some of you were there at the dedication of that building, where I told this story, but I believe it is fitting to retell it today. It illustrates what kind of man Evan was.
Evan promised his father, Walter Nord that he, Evan would see to it that a sandstone and historical society was built in Amherst. Walter came to this part of the country to take a job as an engineer in the quarries and wanted to see that sandstone quarry history preserved.
Evan was mulling over where the center could be built, and one night in a dream, he saw the old sandstone Grange Hall on Milan Avenue. He thought that that hall and the surrounding largely vacant property would be ideal for the center he had in mind. He mustered his real estate and legal buddies and wrangled an invitation to the next Grange meeting.
At that meeting, they presented their proposal to the small number of graying heads that represented what was still extant of agriculture in Amherst, Ohio. The proposal was this: He, Evan would buy the Grange Hall, restore it, endow it and make it the centerpiece of the Sandstone Center. They, the Grange members, would have a lease to meet at the property for as long as they liked.
The grey heads huddled, took a vote and accepted the proposal in minutes. They had no concerns as to whether Evan was a man of his word. No one ever had that worry.
After the meeting and on the way out, one of the gentlemen came to Evan personally, shook his hand and thanked him with these words. “Mr. Nord, during our last meeting, we all struggled with the question of how we, the few remaining Grange members, could afford to keep the place going and open. None of us had an answer. So we then had a short prayer meeting to ask God for help.
“Mr. Nord, you are the answer to our prayer.”
Evan Nord was the answer to a lot of peoples’ prayers.
Evan spent his last days of good health preparing for a gathering of most of his extended family at the farm: It was a board and members meeting of the foundation.. He spent is days making sure the place was ship shape, and his evenings looking over the family tree, to make sure he keep all the names of all the children and straight. He fell ill as we gathered. He slept most of the time during his final illness, but he would awaken from time to time. Each of us had a chance to visit him, talk to him and have our hand squeezed in response. He saw most of his family during that final time.
If you can keep a secret, I will tell you that his family smuggled his beloved dog, Pickens in to see him in the hospital. The little dog sensed that there was trouble and gently snuggled next him. Evan patted his head one last time. Not long after that, Evan slipped away.
Now he returns to his beloved Lorain County to join his mother, father, his sister Mary, her husband Joe and the first of my generation to pass on, Chip, in the family plot at Westwood.
So all of us can be confident that while not today, it is after all Sunday, a day of rest, but tomorrow, the angels will be organized into work groups. They will be given their assignments and told where to go pick up their tools. Some, but probably not quite enough, instructions will be given about what to do and how to do it. Evan will probably miss a few details, because he will assume that the angels are as smart and knowledgeable about the tasks at hand as he is. Most of them will not be. But he will make it right, by making rounds, visiting each work group and straitening things out as they go along.
They will forge ahead. The tasks may very, but the will no doubt all fit under the rubric of: “let’s clean this place up.” Yes, Evan will find chores in paradise.
Most of the crews will be devoted to the clean-up and fix up, but not all of them. He will organize some other, special crews over which he will devote particular attention. These crews will be devoted to helping those -- fallen angels. Those crews will be busy helping where they can, inspiring others, and always bringing and keeping humility in their thoughts and demeanor. They will the work together and make investment in those are not so well adjusted to their surroundings.
Early some morning, not long from now, you might find yourself outside, just before dawn. Should that happen, I urge you to look up to the heavens. There you might just see the Morning Star, the brightest star in the sky. Actually, it is not a star, but it is the planet Venus, sort of a younger brother.. On that day, you might notice that it somehow looks different. If it does, join me in believing that Evan noticed it too, and saw as a beautiful historic property worthy of care, restoration and preservation. His crews got busy, and like so many properties around us here, it was restored, beautified and burnished for our enjoyment and for the enjoyment of generations to come.
That Venus will be like Evan was when he was among us. Shining brilliantly, full of energy, reflective, and up early in the morning.
All who have known either can not help but be inspired and awed by their light.
- by Joseph Ignat, at his memorial service, Oberlin, Ohio
[5]Walter and Virginia Nord For almost half a century the unique contributions of the Nord family - Walter and Virgina Nord, their daughter, Mary Nord Ignat, and their sons Eric and Evan, and their families - the communities of Lorain County Ohio, and beyond have won appreciation from employees, friends, neighbors, nonprofit agencies and their clients, leaders in the world of business, industry and philanthropy, and citizens throughout the area. The Nordson Corporation Foundation and The Nord Family Foundations both stem from the original small charitable trust began by Walter G. Nord in 1952. Both are expressions of his magnanimous philosophy and that of his wife Virginia, passed down to their children and grandchildren of sharing whatever wealth might come their way. And both the company and the foundations are expressions of a lifework seen as filling a need, as devising or inventing solutions that work. Throughout the Nord story is a sturdy tradition of altruism, curiosity and realism, of meeting difficulties and surmounting them, inf investing in community.
Read more about the Foundation history at History of Nordson Philanthropy [6] and about the Nordson Foundation [7].
Links:
[1] http://www.nordff.org/image/investing_in_community_book_cover
[2] http://www.oberlinheritage.org
[3] http://www.nordff.org/system/files/Interview_1992_on_NFF_origins_and_History.pdf
[4] http://www.nordff.org/image/evan_nord
[5] http://www.nordff.org/image/walter_and_virginia_nord
[6] http://www.nordson.com/en-us/about-nordson/community/Pages/History-of-Nordson-Philanthropy.aspx
[7] http://www.nordson.com/en-us/about-nordson/community/Pages/About-the-Foundation.aspx