The Sum of Their Work - Philanthropy.com

In an unusual fund-raising partnership, two old friends bring Indiana U. into ranks of nation's top colleges

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In the late 1960s, Kent E. Dove, a new fund raiser at Indiana University, spent so many evenings at the home of his colleague Curtis R. Simic that the Simics started setting a place for him at dinner. After the meal, the two junior fund raisers, both graduates of the university, would talk into the wee hours about how they'd do things differently — if only they were in charge of raising money for their alma mater.

Now, more than 40 years later, that's exactly what has happened. After working at several other universities — sometimes at the same institution — the two friends returned here. They have spent the past 15 years putting their ideas to the test and smashing numerous fund-raising records.

In a long-running professional partnership rarely seen among fund raisers, Mr. Dove and Mr. Simic put Indiana University on the fund-raising map, melding small-town, Midwestern hospitality with sophisticated development approaches used by the nation's wealthiest colleges.

Mr. Simic and Mr. Dove have transformed their institution from one that relied mostly on modest annual gifts into a well-oiled fund-raising machine that routinely attracts multimillion-dollar gifts from individuals and families who have been associated with the university for decades.

Both men decided last year to retire from their day-to-day duties but continue to work part time helping other fund raisers carry out the approach that helped vault Indiana into the ranks of the top 20 universities, both public and private, that raise the most money.

In a campaign that ended in 2004, Indiana raised more than $1-billion, twice as much as it initially sought. Now the university is in another big drive and this winter, despite the bad economy, increased its goal by $100-million, seeking to raise $1.1-billion by next year.

While the growth in giving has slowed somewhat because of the economy, the two men say that contributions are holding steady this year, helping the university weather the recession.

Indiana University Foundation, where Mr. Simic was president for 20 years, expects to raise $125-million in its 2009 fiscal year, which ends June 30. That's about as much as last year, excluding two donations received in 2008 that were unusual even in the best of times: a bequest of $83.5-million and a $69-million grant from the Lilly Endowment.

The two men's fund-raising approach, the one they started talking about 40 years ago, focuses on getting long-term results. Supported by a development staff of more than 100, Mr. Simic and Mr. Dove have sought to involve alumni and other donors in what they like to call "continuous lifetime giving."

That might begin with a student's undergraduate participation in the Indiana University Student Foundation — one of several campus groups that involve students in fund-raising activities — and stretch on throughout a donor's life and be capped with a bequest. Ticking off several individuals or families whose donations have totaled $15-million or more, the two men note that, in each case, the donors have been giving to the university for at least 20 years.

Even as they have run ever-bigger capital campaigns nearly back to back, the two fund raisers have come to see those drives as far less important than forging decades-long relationships with donors. They tailor solicitations to donors' own interests and timetables for giving, not a campaign schedule.

Mr. Dove, who was senior vice president of the fund-raising foundation until becoming its special adviser this year, says he rarely mentions capital campaigns to donors, and he does not believe in sending donors case statements, campaign reports, and other mass-produced information that is often provided to wealthy people during big drives.

Instead he prefers simple proposals tailored to each person or family, and he often asks donors to critique and edit the proposals they receive.

"It is very hard for a donor to relate to a billion-dollar goal," Mr. Dove says. "It's a lot easier to get people to invest in their own dreams rather than yours. And you can't wait until someone hits it big and then show up. They may give something but not their biggest gift."

Mr. Simic says he gets frustrated by the competition among universities to raise bigger and bigger amounts. To make campaigns seem more ambitious, he says, too many institutions raise money for far too many causes all at once.

The most effective campaign at Indiana, says Mr. Simic, has been the $1.1-billion drive now under way to endow scholarships and fellowships. That goal is a clear priority for the university, well defined, easy to understand, and highly appealing to donors. he says.

"We are deluding ourselves with feeling that our institutional ego is involved, so we have to put a big number out there," Mr. Simic says. "This is not as important as what's actually accomplished with the money. It's more important to focus on priorities. If the number is big, fine. If it is not big, fine. But make it a real priority."

Mr. Simic and Mr. Dove have been successful in part because they have become respected leaders among local movers and shakers, says Bruce Flessner, a Minneapolis fund-raising consultant. The two men have hired Mr. Flessner to conduct interviews with wealthy donors to help them set realistic fund-raising goals.

"You notice that when you go around Indiana, philanthropists seek out their advice on gifts to other causes," Mr. Flessner says.

Though both men are Indiana born and bred, Mr. Dove, 64, and Mr. Simic, 67, could not be more different, as a visit to their offices quickly proves. Because they are giving up some day-to-day duties as they near retirement, the university has moved the two fund raisers out of the foundation's handsome Indiana-limestone building into another campus facility where they still work down the hall from one another. Mr. Simic plans to stay on the campus for the next three years, perhaps more, as president emeritus of the foundation, and Mr. Dove will leave at the end of this year.

Mr. Simic's office is the carefully appointed refuge of a top executive, with dark polished furniture, a Persian rug, and oil paintings on loan from the university's art collection. He often has classical music playing in the background.

Prominently displayed are several mementos Mr. Simic has received as gifts from donors he has solicited and befriended over the years.

Mr. Dove's office, about a quarter the size of Mr. Simic's, is a stark contrast. With its standard-issue desk and completely bare white walls, the office's only adornment is a display of the fund-raising handbooks Mr. Dove has written himself or with colleagues. Starting in the late 1980s, he began writing a series of five textbooks, including Conducting a Successful Capital Campaign, now in its second edition.

But despite, or perhaps because of, their divergent personal styles and tastes, the two seasoned fund raisers complement one another. They're "a matched set," as one colleague puts it.

"He's Mr. Outside," says Mr. Dove, referring to Mr. Simic's role in working with donors, deans, government officials, and other people off the campus. "I'm Mr. Inside," Mr. Dove says. During his career, he has focused largely on running and improving the foundation's internal fund-raising operations.

Mr. Simic's embrace of the "outside" role is so strong that many donors feel connected to him. Sandy Bate, the foundation's executive director of marketing, says: "Curt Simic's name in the subject line doubles the open rate for the e-mails we send out."

Mr. Simic was the main contact for some of the institution's most-generous donors, including Jesse Cox, an Indianapolis alumnus and entrepreneur who died last year, leaving the university more than $80-million in his will. During his lifetime, he gave some $20-million more with his wife, Beulah.

A picture of Mr. Cox on Mr. Simic's bookcase shows him wearing a smile — and a bright red Indiana University baseball cap that Mr. Simic gave him because the sun's glare made it hard for the elderly man to see.

When Mr. Simic attended Mr. Cox's viewing, he brought along another red baseball cap, intending to tuck it into the donor's coffin in memory of the time they spent together. But, much to his surprise, the family beat him to it. Mr. Cox was wearing the original hat as mourners paid their respects.

Mr. Dove is more circumspect than Mr. Simic but at the same time — even he admits — more blunt. He's not that interested in spending evenings with donors and deans. He would rather be at home with his wife of 38 years, Sandy, and their dog, Stoli. (The couple rescued the pet from a hectic life as mascot of an Indiana University fraternity, which named the dog after their favorite brand of vodka.)

Mr. Dove may not relish spending his free time with donors, but he has devoted his life to understanding and teaching others about the relation between how donors are treated by charities and the largest gifts they make in their lives.

"They might deny it, but donors want to be catered to. They are giving you something of value, and they deserve something of value in return," he says. "Sometimes donors are even afraid a fund raiser will abandon them. They will actually hold off on making a gift because they are afraid the relationship will end once they make the gift."

During his working hours, which include many stints as a part-time fund-raising consultant to hospitals, cultural institutions, and other nonprofit groups, Mr. Dove likes to think about how and why fund-raising practices work and then make sure that an organization's staff, volunteers, processes, and systems are structured to maximize giving while controlling costs. (The Indiana foundation's fund-raising expenses run from 8 percent to 13 percent of the money raised each year, a bit lower than most universities.)

Had he not been a fund raiser, Mr. Dove would have made a great systems engineer, says Mr. Simic. In fact, one thing Mr. Dove did at the foundation was develop a system to measure the performance of fund raisers who seek the largest gifts. He has also done several studies of donor behavior by analyzing the foundation's computerized records of alumni contributions — dispelling fund-raising myths in the process.

For example, the foundation had long assumed that graduates would be inclined to give to the school where they studied and should only be approached by fund raisers affiliated with it. But the analysis of donor records found that 70 percent to 75 percent of the money given by the university's business-school graduates, for example, went to other university programs. And donors who made the largest gifts tended to give to several different campus projects.

"There are exceptions, but this is why it's a good idea to expose donors to multiple aspects of the institution," Mr. Dove says.

While Mr. Dove continues to plumb the finer points of why people give, Mr. Simic is happy to leave that pursuit to him. He now spends each weekday doing what he does best: maintaining close relations with donors and their families.

For example, he holds lunches six or eight times a year for freshmen — some of whom are donors' children or grandchildren — to see how they're adjusting to campus life and if he can do anything to help. (Their concerned family members are grateful.) And even on a two-week vacation to Florida last month, Mr. Simic took it upon himself to meet with 24 donors over lunch or on the golf course.

He says he still spends one day every weekend writing 20 or 30 notes to donors in his own hand, and sends out as many as 1,800 Christmas cards to donors each year, enclosing a personal note in each. Evenings might find him at the opera or a concert, seated next to a donor or shepherding an elderly alumnus through the stands at a Hoosiers basketball game.

The two men expect to remain friends even as their official duties diminish, and each man says the other has made him a better fund raiser. "Fund raising is an art and a science," Mr. Dove says. "Curt is the artist. I am the scientist. Together, the sum of our work is greater than its parts."