Published on January 2, 2008
BYLINE: RAYNE WOLFE
THE PRESS DEMOCRAT

When George C. Forrester, the president of Valley of the Moon Children's Foundation, was a kid, he was crazy about swimming.

At Phillips-Exeter Academy, the student from Rumson, N.J., was most likely to be found in the elite New Hampshire prep school's outdoor pool, striving to set long-distance swimming records.

"They'd say, 'Well, he can't still be in there,'" Forrester said. "Then they'd look over the side and there I was, for hours, swimming, swimming."

What those long hours of gliding taught Forrester has been carried in his heart since. Even at 70 and struggling with his health, he believes challenges give him a certain buoyancy, so he's never afraid to plunge in.

Forrester's leadership on the Valley of the Moon project illustrates what it takes to attain a community dream, in this case a new home to shelter abused and neglected children.

With its completion slated for December 2008, his work offers a road map for raising millions of dollars. It shows public and private agencies can work together. And it establishes a genuine philanthropic legacy.

"People forget, George was not a well–known guy when he came here. He became such through the virtue of his deeds," said Jack DeMeo, a Santa Rosa attorney and board member of Valley of the Moon Children's Foundation.

In 1995, DeMeo and his son, Brad, helped Judge Arnold Rosenfield create the Valley of the Moon Children's Foundation. The focus was simple: Raise a little money for special treats and outings for the kids.

'To give credit where credit's due, it was Rosenfield who formed the foundation," DeMeo said. "Later, we decided we needed a new home for the kids. A complete home, with medical and dental, the works."

Forrester just happened to possess skills the foundation board needed.

Beginning in the 1980s, he had a leadership role at Northern Trust, a wealth management firm that thrived on philanthropic activity. Client networking meant spreading around hundreds of thousands of dollars to charity.

"The key was that I required ... our officers, when they gave money to nonprofit boards, they went with the money, serving on the board, or they had to be actively involved," he said.

By 1992, at age 55, Forrester's Sonoma County getaway home became his retirement address. He and his wife, Sheila, enjoyed the peace and quiet. They doted on Sadie, their dachshund.

In 1999, board member Marcy Smothers and her moviemaker friends, John and Nancy Lasseter, hosted a benefit screening of "Toy Story II," which raised more than $200,000 for the home. Forrester attended on a whim then called the Valley of the Moon home to see if he could help.

"He turned out to be an absolute godsend. We have followed him ever since," said former Democratic Rep. Doug Bosco of Sebastopol, a fellow board member. "With his help and leadership, we have made a lasting contribution to this community."

Forrester donated $150,000 to the foundation and pledged $100,000 more. The invitation to join the board came after he volunteered extensively.

As board president, he was determined to raise about $5.8 million of Sonoma County's $25.2 million budget to build a new children's home.

Colleagues say it wasn't easy gaining community support.

"We were going up against some other large capital campaigns in the community ... the Green Music Center, the new Humane Society facility," board member Mardi Shepard said. "The perception was that building a new children's home was the county's problem."

Fund-raising 101, according to Forrester, requires commitment, goal-setting and just plain work. He knew that the working figure had been floating around for years. It would probably take more.

"At that time, they thought it would take $5 million -- and I'm thinking -- $5 million?" Forrester said. "That's chump change."

The public-private partnership created for the building project melded community support and county muscle. The county had the land and much larger budget, but without the financial support of the foundation, the project may have languished.

Working closely with Katherine Kennedy, the liaison between the county and the foundation, Forrester began speaking anywhere, attending community meetings and handing over donations to county supervisors.

"Maybe back then I didn't realize how committed I would become. Katherine would call and say, 'Geeeeoooooorge, there's a Kiwanis breakfast tomorrow. C'mon, you have to eat breakfast anyway,'" he said, mock grimacing.

The plight of children paying for their parents' shortcomings was a subject Forrester knew well.

When he entered Yale in 1956 as a business student, he was required to take a psychology course. He chose one that required weekly visits to the children's home in New Haven, Conn.

He continued his visits all four years of school, motivated in part by the example of his great-grandfather, George Hubbard Clapp, a co-founder of Aluminium Co. of America. Clapp devoted each Friday to needy children until his death at age 90. The "C" in Forrester's signature honors Clapp.

Throughout the project, Forrester sought and retained experts, including leaders from similar projects.

"Strategic planning sessions, retreats, speakers, lunches, George always wanted to pay," DeMeo said. "I've wrestled with him a few times over bills. And he's a wild man when bidding at charity auctions."

By June 2003, groundbreaking took place on Pythian Road. Dedicationof Phase II happened in May 2005.

The kitchen inspired the biggest fight of the entire project.

A constant lament from the children was the insult they felt at receiving food from juvenile hall. They called it jail food.

That Forrester could become a bit snarky in meetings over the kitchen just made him all the more human, friends say.

"Oh, gee, all the meetings on that kitchen. At one point I remember an architectural drawing of a counter, just a counter with a row of black plugs," Forrester said arching an eyebrow. "They called it a warming kitchen -- egads."

He threatened to pull the foundation out of the partnership over the kitchen. Finally, he calculated the cost of a fully equipped industrial kitchen with walk-in pantry, fridge and freezer. He said the foundation would raise the money. It did.

"We raised $801,898 to cover the kitchen and the salary of the chef, which, by the way, is now paid by the county," he said.

Despite his sophistication, Forrester has his impish impulses. He yearned for just one million-dollar check.

"I really wanted to say 'thanks a million!' to somebody. But it just never happened," he said, laughing.

He grew to regard small donations as true blessings.

"If you can't get millions, a big stack of small checks can be even more valuable," Forrester said. "Because really, a signed check, when you go to the supervisors, represents a vote."

In June 2005, children living in the 50-year-old, too-small, too-dark home moved up the hill into the bright, big and homey new space. A plaque near the kitchen designates the dining area as "George's Place."

Even children who have not met Forrester often hail him as they pass each other in corridors and courtyards.

"Hiya, George!" they chirp. It tickles him.

Even after the project is completed, the foundation will not cease its work, nor will Forrester. Although his swimming days are long behind him, and he tires more easily than he used to, he still gets that look in his eye. He's still willing to plunge in.

Despite frail health, his plans for 2009 include insuring continuous support for the home, improving foster care in the county and supporting children as they turn 18 and age out of programs.

"And end child abuse. That's somewhere out there," he said with a far-off look. "There's plenty of opportunity to do good things."

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You can reach Staff Writer Rayne Wolfe at 521-5240 or .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address).