An adoring tribute to Jerry Panas (1928-2018)
The phone rang. I answered; a landline, not a cell. It was April 2003.
A cordial voice said, "Tom, this is Jerry Panas." To which I replied in honest amazement, "The Jerry Panas?" I'd read two of his books. Jerry, 75, was a fundraising legend. Legends didn't call nobodies.
Yes, he assured me: the Jerry Panas. And he was in a hurry, calling from an airport.
"I hear you can write," he said. I mmm-hmmmed; supposed it was true enough. By then, I had earned a living as an ink-stained wretch for at least two decades. Jerry then asked if I could fly to St. Louis the following week. "I have a client who needs a case."
And that was the beginning for me and cases.
Jerry Panas called out of the blue, from an airport (I heard from him over the years ... and he was pretty much always in an airport), to entrust me with a client's case. His Chicago-based firm overnighted me a case they'd prepared for a different client, so I could study the Panas/Linzy "house style." And then he set me loose to write the case for a national nonprofit. (Which, by the way, went out of business some years later. Emergency fundraising didn't save the day. Systemic financial problems unaddressed by the board brought this nonprofit low. Lesson learned?)
Jerry's advice became my creed. One thing he said about the case for support proved especially helpful: "Make it bigger."
He meant, Make your case about more than just your project. Talk about the ultimate impact, the impact on the community, the region, the world, the future: i.e., the bigger picture.
In 2018, Jerry Panas died, age 90. Like many, I was shocked. Legends don't die was the working assumption, I guess.
In 2019, Simone and I traveled to Cleveland in January (bad choice re: prevailing weather) to visit the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. One theme there impressed me deeply: rock musicians honor their influences. No one stands alone. No one invents themselves.
Thank you, Jerry Panas.
Thank you, everyone.