Corporate good deeds don't always follow the easiest path

Fifty years ago at the Pillsbury Co., community involvement was rigidly defined by the chairman. It was not considered ethical for a manager to become involved in a civic project during the workday. At night, off-duty, it was acceptable.

Eleanor Pillsbury, who is the wife of the retired board chairman, presumably was not mindful of the restriction.

As president of the Minneapolis General Hospital auxiliary, her passion was campaigning for a new hospital. Only a small segment of the community -- the poor, those rescued by the institution's trauma expertise, the medical community and the hospital's employees -- were aware of the institution's shameful deterioration. X-rays were taken in an unpainted basement dungeon.

Eleanor was passionate, never neglecting to take her plea to guests at the Pillsbury home on Lake Minnetonka.

She also was aware that, although Hennepin County could hold a bond issue referendum to raise money for the new hospital, it could not spend tax dollars to promote it.

She needed a fundraiser who had corporate ties. Pillsbury Chairman Paul Gerot was her target. He had been promoted from running the company's Chicago office to president by Eleanor's husband, Philip, by now the retired chairman of the board.

This was not an easy call for Gerot. He ran a tight ship -- all business.

His social affairs for company executives and their wives were gossip fare in the employee lunchroom. After dinner, it was customary that the men would assemble separately to discuss corporate objectives, while their wives were exiled.

When my boss, James Bennett, was asked to become president of the Minneapolis Urban League, he went to Gerot, not to be congratulated but to wonder whether he'd get permission to take the post. Gerot reluctantly said OK, and Bennett became the first white person to be so honored.

So, when Eleanor also asked Gerot for public relations help, he had to excuse Bennett. I was the compromise candidate.

The first meeting of the public relations committee was called by the county board for dinner at Charlie's Cafe Exceptionale, a big-ticket excursion. When the tab arrived, I reached for my wallet. A commissioner frowned: "We have an account for that."

The next morning I related the episode to Gerot. He dialed the commissioner and tersely advised that such extravagant entertaining would not be tolerated.

After that the committee met in the commissioners' board room, with soda pop and sandwiches that members bought at the City Hall refreshment stand.

And the $25 million bond issue referendum? It passed by a 10-to-1 ratio.

What's missing? A memorial plaque honoring Eleanor Pillsbury at the entrance to Hennepin County Medical Center.