As a child I remember going to visit my Oma who lived just off of Bogus Basin Road at the base of the “highlands” in the Boise foothills. I remember gawking at the big house with arched windows perched high on the hill with the BIG American flag waiving unfurled in the wind.
I also remember Oma commenting about how some neighbors complained that they could hear the flapping of that flag…a complaint that always struck me as decidedly un-American.
That big house…the hard-to-miss house on your way up to ski at Bogus…and the big flag belonged to none-other than Idaho’s most infamous billionaire, JR Simplot – aka the “potato king.”
I never met him, always kinda wished I had. His home high atop that hill always made him seem larger than life – a true Idaho legend. A billionaire without a high school education. A man who lived and realized the American dream – in Idaho.
There’s something about farmers that I’ve always appreciated. When I was a working journalist in the news media in the Midwest and South, farming stories were always my favorite assignment. It didn’t matter what kind of crop – soy, tobacco, cotton, cattle… Perhaps it’s the hard work ethic….every chance at success rides on the mercy of the weather and commerce conditions. Not knowing if they’ll even have a farm from one year to the next. The basic irony of the peaceful country life married together with sometimes chaotic and always stressful business of running a farm. Farmers are at the very core of our country. We depend on them for so much…even if it is just french fries!
JR Simplot’s life started very ordinary, born in Iowa (maybe that’s why people get Idaho confused with Iowa all the time!). He farmed. Raised pigs. Sorted potatoes. And yes, we have him to thank for getting frozen french fries into McDonalds. He did a lot for Idaho in his lifetime, and like him or not, he made a significant mark on this world.
JR Simplot passed away this weekend, at 99. 1909-2008
I just have to wonder… In an interivew w/Esquire Magazine (2001), Simplot said:
“I got no religion in me. I could never see through it. Basically, I’m a facts man; if I can’t see through it, I say it’s not possible.
“You’re dead, that’s the end of you. There’s no tomorrow.
“The sun’s been coming up for a billion years. What the hell makes it? You can’t think about something being that hot for that long, but it’s true. Or when they put that little cart on Mars — you seen the pictures — it took them, what was it, seven years to get it there? Seven years to get it there as fast as they could throw it.”
A former pastor of mine used to say “I’ve never seen a u-haul on the back of a herse.” I wonder…amassing all that wealth, fame and power. Was it worth it?
2 Comments
May 29, 2008 at 7:57 pm
I was lucky enough to have met J.R. & Esther a couple of times while in high school & college and again after I had gotten married. My mom played golf with Esther and found her to be very genuine, interesting and nice to be around. Unfortuantely, she wasn’t treated the same way in return so my mom said she stuck by her and got to be friends before my parents returned to Portland. I met J.R. at the golf course too and he had a big smile and tipped his hat to me which just blew me away and made a huge impression on me as to what old fashioned manners were. He was friendly to everyone around him from what I could tell and liked to chit-chat a bit with those who responded in kind.
I was carrying my infant daughter in her carseat years later down at the old 8th Street Marketplace and guess who held the door open for me – J.R. himself and he tipped his hat again as I walked past him and asked how old my baby was. Ironically, his great-grandson is a classmate of that daughter and they are also genuinely nice, kind and very friendly family who took their cues from J.R. – and that’s how I will remember him!
June 5, 2008 at 5:40 am
I met him very briefly at the McDonalds on Broadway probably about 15 years go. I can’t remember the details, but he was there for some special event. He introduced himself and shook my hand. I then introduced myself and told him that I work at Micron. I said “Oh, Micron” and just about knocked me down with a good smack on the shoulder.
It’s sad to see him go. He is, I think, really the last of the Idaho business giants of the 20th century. A special breed that we’re not likely to see again…sadly.