Jack Lupton
May 17, 2010
Many have written about what Jack Lupton has meant to Chattanooga, but many of his most meaningful gifts remain little known. It will be impossible to replace his generosity, vision, and humility in helping make Chattanooga into a place I am proud to call home.
But beyond that, he gave immense gifts to hundreds, maybe thousands, of individuals. Often he did so anonymously. I was one of those lucky ones to have been touched by Mr. Lupton directly, several times.
Few consider how many lives he saved with one decision, to allow Pete Parker to implement the first local Employee Assistance Program, when Pete was but one month sober. Pete became the savior for literally thousands of Chattanoogans who struggled with alcoholism and addiction. Without Jack Lupton, it wouldn’t have happened.
When I was a senior at Baylor School, it was announced that Baylor would participate with The Masters School of Dobbs Ferry, NY, in a co-educational exchange of 12 students from each school. I was one of the twelve from Baylor. Meg Lupton, Jack’s daughter, was one of the twelve from Dobbs, as the other school was known. It was the first experiment in co-education for Baylor. It was roundly considered to have been a dreadful flop- probably because some of the young participants weren’t ready to take the experiment as anything other than a chance to have a new adventure.
Still, the seed was planted. My oldest daughter graduated from Baylor in 2004, and I have two more daughters yet to go. Without Mr. Lupton, it might not have happened.
About a year after I joined Stein Construction Co., the economy was struggling. Our company was in the midst of layoffs when Jack called my grandfather and asked him to have my father meet “a Mr. Pete Dye” at the old Atlas Powder site in Ooltewah, to look at the grading for a new golf course, which became The Honors. Stein did all the work, starting the clearing on July 23, 1981, Mr. Lupton’s 55th birthday. (I think this was pure coincidence.) When my father later asked Jack why he just gave our company that work, he responded over dinner at the Mt. Vernon Restaurant, “I always liked you, Gil.” My father, who struggled with depression, was on Cloud Nine.
Without that job, Stein might have failed.
At the urging of my friend George Bright, I took up golf while we were building The Honors. I fell in love with the game, playing at The Honors and Lookout Mountain, another course that has benefited from Mr. Lupton’s generosity. I later had the opportunity to build another golf course, Black Creek Club. Jack Lupton was the only honorary member. Without Jack Lupton, Black Creek might well not exist.
After The Honors had been open a couple of years, I was riding in a red Lincoln down the 7th fairway with Gene Ragsdale, Jack Lupton, and Pete Dye, considering the failed wall along the green. Mr. Lupton had just sold JTL Corporation. Pete Dye, ever irreverent, asked Mr. Lupton what he was going to do, “now that he was unemployed.” Mr. Lupton, in a rare moment of seriousness, said that he had “always wanted to do something for [his] hometown.” That was in 1986. Mr. Lupton always did what he said he was going to do. He was a man of action, not words. In fact, I always thought Jack used his sometimes profane and always direct words as a smokescreen. If you wanted to know how he felt, you had to look beyond the words to the deeds. The deeds always revealed his generosity, his humility, and his love.
After Chattanooga’s visioning process, involving the entire community and seeded by Mr. Lupton, the Tennessee Aquarium was proposed. In 1988, scarcely two years after the ride down the 7th fairway, I got to drop the flag for the groundbreaking ceremony, as Stein pulled down the abandoned buildings that were on the site. Who can measure the impact of Mr. Lupton’s decision to “do something for his hometown?”
Last week I was asked to speak at the dedication ceremony for the green roof Stein Construction installed at the Creative Discovery Museum. The first person I thanked was Jack Lupton. “I am a gnat on the shoulders of giants,” I said. Without Jack Lupton’s vision, generosity, and willingness to let others implement their own visions, it wouldn’t have happened.
Every year on July 23, I would send Mr. Lupton a birthday note telling him how much I appreciated what he had done for me, my family, and our community. Sometimes I would get a brief thank you note (all of his communications were brief), sometimes I wouldn’t. It didn’t matter. There’s simply no way I can thank him enough.
Doug Stein
Many have written about what Jack Lupton has meant to Chattanooga, but many of his most meaningful gifts remain little known. It will be impossible to replace his generosity, vision, and humility in helping make Chattanooga into a place I am proud to call home.
But beyond that, he gave immense gifts to hundreds, maybe thousands, of individuals. Often he did so anonymously. I was one of those lucky ones to have been touched by Mr. Lupton directly, several times.
Few consider how many lives he saved with one decision, to allow Pete Parker to implement the first local Employee Assistance Program, when Pete was but one month sober. Pete became the savior for literally thousands of Chattanoogans who struggled with alcoholism and addiction. Without Jack Lupton, it wouldn’t have happened.
When I was a senior at Baylor School, it was announced that Baylor would participate with The Masters School of Dobbs Ferry, NY, in a co-educational exchange of 12 students from each school. I was one of the twelve from Baylor. Meg Lupton, Jack’s daughter, was one of the twelve from Dobbs, as the other school was known. It was the first experiment in co-education for Baylor. It was roundly considered to have been a dreadful flop- probably because some of the young participants weren’t ready to take the experiment as anything other than a chance to have a new adventure.
Still, the seed was planted. My oldest daughter graduated from Baylor in 2004, and I have two more daughters yet to go. Without Mr. Lupton, it might not have happened.
About a year after I joined Stein Construction Co., the economy was struggling. Our company was in the midst of layoffs when Jack called my grandfather and asked him to have my father meet “a Mr. Pete Dye” at the old Atlas Powder site in Ooltewah, to look at the grading for a new golf course, which became The Honors. Stein did all the work, starting the clearing on July 23, 1981, Mr. Lupton’s 55th birthday. (I think this was pure coincidence.) When my father later asked Jack why he just gave our company that work, he responded over dinner at the Mt. Vernon Restaurant, “I always liked you, Gil.” My father, who struggled with depression, was on Cloud Nine.
Without that job, Stein might have failed.
At the urging of my friend George Bright, I took up golf while we were building The Honors. I fell in love with the game, playing at The Honors and Lookout Mountain, another course that has benefited from Mr. Lupton’s generosity. I later had the opportunity to build another golf course, Black Creek Club. Jack Lupton was the only honorary member. Without Jack Lupton, Black Creek might well not exist.
After The Honors had been open a couple of years, I was riding in a red Lincoln down the 7th fairway with Gene Ragsdale, Jack Lupton, and Pete Dye, considering the failed wall along the green. Mr. Lupton had just sold JTL Corporation. Pete Dye, ever irreverent, asked Mr. Lupton what he was going to do, “now that he was unemployed.” Mr. Lupton, in a rare moment of seriousness, said that he had “always wanted to do something for [his] hometown.” That was in 1986. Mr. Lupton always did what he said he was going to do. He was a man of action, not words. In fact, I always thought Jack used his sometimes profane and always direct words as a smokescreen. If you wanted to know how he felt, you had to look beyond the words to the deeds. The deeds always revealed his generosity, his humility, and his love.
After Chattanooga’s visioning process, involving the entire community and seeded by Mr. Lupton, the Tennessee Aquarium was proposed. In 1988, scarcely two years after the ride down the 7th fairway, I got to drop the flag for the groundbreaking ceremony, as Stein pulled down the abandoned buildings that were on the site. Who can measure the impact of Mr. Lupton’s decision to “do something for his hometown?”
Last week I was asked to speak at the dedication ceremony for the green roof Stein Construction installed at the Creative Discovery Museum. The first person I thanked was Jack Lupton. “I am a gnat on the shoulders of giants,” I said. Without Jack Lupton’s vision, generosity, and willingness to let others implement their own visions, it wouldn’t have happened.
Every year on July 23, I would send Mr. Lupton a birthday note telling him how much I appreciated what he had done for me, my family, and our community. Sometimes I would get a brief thank you note (all of his communications were brief), sometimes I wouldn’t. It didn’t matter. There’s simply no way I can thank him enough.
Doug Stein
