AN EXECUTIVE'S DEATH
The New York Times
January 30, 2002
Hometown Remembers
Man Who Wore Success
Quietly
By ELISSA GOOTMAN
MITYVILLE, N.Y., Jan. 29 —
When J. Clifford Baxter returned
to this quiet village in September for
his 25th high school reunion, his
success was no secret. He arrived with
a chauffeur, and afterward, he treated
a group of 20 or so classmates to
drinks at Giacomo Jack's, a nearby
restaurant.
But those who grew up playing football and climbing trees with Mr. Baxter, 43, a
former vice chairman of Enron (news/quote), said they were shocked to learn that
he committed suicide in Texas last week. Many of his friends said they had also not
realized the extent of his success: that since leaving Amityville, a village on Long
Island's South Shore, Mr. Baxter had climbed to a top post at one of the country's
largest companies.
"He looked great; he was in shape; he looked young for his age," said Tim Schultz,
a high school classmate. "But I don't think many people, if any, really knew how far
he had come."
In Amityville, an insular place where children run back and forth among neat,
modest homes and spend their summers in or near the waters of Great South Bay,
Mr. Baxter, who is to be buried here on Wednesday, will be remembered not for his
successful career but as a loyal son who did not brag about his accomplishments
and who always came home.
Almost everyone in Amityville seems to know the Baxter family: Mr. Baxter's father
was a sergeant in the village police department, and his grandfather, a plumber,
was a village trustee. People knew that Cliff, the youngest of six, was bubbly and
smart.
But until recently, few people here seem to have given
much thought to Enron, let alone realized that Mr. Baxter
was among its top executives. "I never knew the name of
the place," said Joe C. Slack, a village trustee and family
friend. "I never gave much thought to it."
Mr. Slack knew other things. He was invited, for instance,
to the 80th-birthday party that Mr. Baxter held for his
mother at a nearby catering hall. There were mussels and
shrimp, Swedish meatballs and gracious toasts, and Mr.
Baxter surprised his mother with two gifts: a Lincoln
Continental and a trip to Ireland, Mr. Slack said.
"All of the sudden, bam," Mr. Slack said. "You see this
good-looking boy in the paper, and you say, `Holy
mackerel.' "
John Bochicchio, 43, a high school classmate, said he was
struck at the reunion by Mr. Baxter's modesty, his
generosity and his connection to his hometown. Mr.
Baxter had mentioned he was interested in setting up a
college fund for Amityville high school students and
donating money "to fix up some things in town," said Mr.
Bochicchio, a bartender at Runyon's, a restaurant not far
from the high school.
"He was really nostalgic," Mr. Bochicchio said. "As
successful as he became, he never forgot his roots. He
loved Amityville."
Mr. Baxter spent his childhood swimming at Amityville
Beach, climbing the apple tree in his backyard and
playing baseball on an abandoned cornfield on Oak Street
that is now filled with condominiums. "The cornfield boys,"
he and his friends called themselves.
Mr. Baxter started playing guitar before high school.
Later, in business school, he humored his classmates with
a pointed rendition of "Money for Nothing," a hit by the
group Dire Straits.
His intelligence was evident inside the classroom, where
he once confidently argued a point with a high school
biology teacher until the teacher acknowledged that he
had erred, and on the playing fields.
"If the ball was out of bounds, he wouldn't just shout you
down," said Jim Cheviot, 44, a classmate. "It was an
organized debate."
Once, during a game of catch, Mr. Baxter initiated a
conversation that Mr. Bochicchio found so surprising he
remembers it now — more than 30 years later.
"He's telling me, `Isn't it amazing about gravity? The earth
is spinning, and we can be out here catching a ball,' " Mr.
Bochicchio recalled. "I'm doing everything I can just to
catch and throw it, and he's already into physics and
Newton. Even then I knew this guy was different."
But not too different. In his high school yearbook, a
surprised-looking Mr. Baxter, wearing an apron, is
pictured during shop class, but not as most likely to
succeed.
"He was so naturally smart," Mr. Bochicchio said. "I'm not
sure he pushed himself to the limit, it was so easy for
him."
As things became tougher, Mr. Baxter rose to the challenge. After leaving
Amityville, he graduated from New York University cum laude, with a degree in
finance. He joined the Air Force, where he met his wife, with whom he had two
children, and became a captain.
Then came Columbia Business School, where he graduated as a co- valedictorian
but stood out for being kind and approachable.
"He was just warm and engaging and not in any way elitist or condescending," said
Virginia Weiler, a classmate who is now an adjunct professor or marketing at the
University of Southern Indiana. "He was so rare, too, especially in the late 80's. He
had a sense of propriety about him, and he was a straight arrow, unlike the Ivan
Boesky wannabes in our class."
When Ms. Weiler learned about Mr. Baxter's death last Friday, she was horrified.
Upon reflection, she came to the conclusion that he must have acted out of
conscience.
"He was very much a man of principle and very much a man of honor," she said.
"He was ethical and very much had that military bearing about him."
Alumni officials at the Columbia Business School and N.Y.U. said Mr. Baxter was
not actively involved in alumni affairs, making his appearances at high school
reunions all the more poignant.
"I would have been surprised if he didn't come" to the recent reunion, Mr. Cheviot
said. "He never forgot where he came from."
Early this week, Mr. Baxter's relatives received guests at the Powell Funeral Home
on Broadway. Mr. Baxter's coffin was draped with an American flag, and next to a
collection of bright flower arrangements stood a montage of his personal history:
Mr. Baxter posing in a pale blue tuxedo, outfitted in a black graduation cap and
gown, sheepishly holding a birthday cake decorated with a rainbow.
Many here refuse to believe what the medical examiner's office ruled the day after
Mr. Baxter's body was found inside his car in the Houston suburb where he lived,
with a gunshot wound to the head: that he had committed suicide.
"With all the goings-on, the shenanigans in that company, I find it difficult to
believe that it was a suicide," said John Mischenko III, 50, who grew up down the
street from Mr. Baxter and was friendly with one of his older brothers. "It just
doesn't seem logical to me."
Some friends said that Mr. Baxter had appeared more serious and subdued than
usual at the recent reunion but that he did not seem to be distressed.
When Mr. Cheviot marveled at the news that Mr. Baxter had already retired, he did
not boast, or wince. Instead, he explained he wanted to spend more time with his
family. "Jim," he had said, "I've been very fortunate."
nytimes.com |
