Morton Meyerson
Morton Meyerson died last Saturday at the age of 87.
I have little doubt that as he moved on to the next realm, Fort Worth and Paschal High School weren’t far from his mind. When I spoke to him almost four years ago, he spoke as if both were defining and foundational chapters in the story of his life.
Meyerson came into full bloom at the University of Texas before going on to reshape Ross Perot’s Electronic Data Systems Corp., turning it into a global powerhouse through his trailblazing work in outsourcing. The Morton H. Meyerson Symphony Center in the Arts District of Dallas was named for Meyerson when Perot insisted that he would make a signature donation for its construction only if the hall carried the name of the former president of EDS.
I had sent an email to Meyerson’s 2M Companies, Inc., a family investment firm, asking for an interview on a story on outsourcing that I was working on. He had also just been inducted into the Texas Business Hall of Fame.
To my surprise, he personally replied: “When would you like to talk?”
What I eventually got was something far more interesting than outsourcing.
Over the course of its going on 145 years and various incarnations, Paschal High School has sent some heavyweights out into the world. Any alum will quickly remind you that the school sent one of its own to the moon, as if they blasted Alan Bean from a platform on the football field during lunch.
The realm of business, finance, and philanthropy is no different. There are some giants whose adolescence was captured for posterity in yearbooks. Before the world knew them, Paschal was molding them into thoughtful, literate, and adaptable business and community leaders.
The first to come to mind is Charles Tandy, he of Central High School, before the school was renamed in honor of its longtime principal. Richard Rainwater is, of course, another, the billionaire investor whose mark on the city will live for generations through the Rainwater Foundation.
And then there is Morton Meyerson, the Dallasite who called his formation in Fort Worth the most important thing that ever happened to him. The foundation for this gentle soul who is strong in deed was Paschal High School. And his Jewish heritage.
Meyerson was a 1956 graduate of Paschal.
“It was fantastic. Really, really good teachers. Powerhouse academically. Athletic powerhouse in baseball and basketball. Football, we were highly ranked,” Meyerson told me in a phone conversation. “Academically, it was the best school in town. I was incredibly lucky to have gone there. I had some really good teachers who stepped in and took an interest in me and encouraged me to be more than who I thought I was.”
Meyerson played football at Paschal, just as his father did a generation before. Both wore No. 72. Brudus Meyerson played on Paschal’s — well, Central’s — 1928 state football team. Football was important to Meyerson, getting the “fundamentally” introverted teen out of his shell and the realization that a young Jewish boy could coexist in a very Baptist community, and, on a larger scale, the world at large.
You simply had to excel.
“It was a great lesson, and that’s the way I handled myself the rest of my life. I just found places [in his career] where performance was No. 1 and who you were was not as important.”
In fact, both of Meyerson’s parents went to Paschal. So, too, did his paternal grandmother, and a number of aunts, uncles, and cousins. In addition to football, he was involved in student government, choir, and piano.
Meyerson graduated from the University of Texas in 1961 with bachelor’s degrees in economics and philosophy. The university marked his life of note by bestowing on him its “Distinguished Alumnus Award” in 2005.
The year 1961 began Meyerson’s term of service in the U.S. Army. There, he received occupational specialty training in automatic data processing, a skill that would serve him well.
In 1966, he took a job with EDS as a systems engineer trainee, ultimately becoming president and vice chair and leading 45,000 employees.
After the sale of EDS to General Motors in 1984, Meyerson stayed on, becoming the chief technology officer of GM. In 1986, he left GM to focus on private investing, working closely with Rainwater and mentoring Michael Dell during the formative period of Dell Computer. In 1992, he again teamed with Perot, becoming chair and CEO of Perot Systems and leading it to $1 billion in revenue.
In 2021, Meyerson was inducted into the Texas Business Hall of Fame in Houston.
“I’ve had probably more recognition in my life than I deserve so I wasn’t particularly taken by the ‘it’s about me,’” he said of the Hall of Fame honor. “The reason I accepted is I felt like a Fort Worth person — there aren’t that many in there, that were raised there — No. 1. I was asked about going on the list about 30 years ago. I declined because I’m fundamentally an introvert. I’m not very big on accolades and those things. I asked them not to put my name up. This time, they didn’t ask me. They just did it.”
Meyerson laughed at that.
“Timing, luck, and having a good family were everything.”
The values learned in the Meyerson home also included the obligation to help others. Instilled at a very early age, he said, this ethos was the bedrock of the Morton H. Meyerson Family Foundation and its philosophy rooted in the Jewish concept of “tzedakah,” a Hebrew word for a moral obligation to give back to those less fortunate.
The foundation’s focus is on assisting underserved communities and individuals, providing access to basic human needs, and supporting Jewish organizations and programs.
“My focus on giving back comes from my parents and grandparents. At the earliest age, 4 or 5, I can remember my grandfather would give me a quarter, but he’d give me five nickels. And if he gave me five nickels, he would say, take one of the nickels and put it in the pushke — a Yiddish term for the charity box.
“I’d put it in and say, wait a minute, I don’t have a quarter anymore; I have 20 cents. He would say, ‘Yeah, but you have money, and you have to share it with other people. That was his way of teaching me. My parents did the same thing. I had [learned] from the earlier time period, all of my family, and much of my school, etc., was about giving back. It came like drinking water.”
Meyerson was planning to go to Israel in 1998 when his son David died unexpectantly in Los Angeles at age 31. Working through his grief, Meyerson almost decided not to go on the trip.
“I decided to go. And I extended the trip and stayed two months and studied. One of the things I studied was tzedakah with a rabbi. I came back and formed a foundation. I think we’re making a difference. I’m active in the foundation, and the reason is, I learned as a child that if you have more resources than you can use and your family can use, you’re required to share it.”
Rest well, Morton Meyerson.