Ronald J. Kruszewski

Ronald "Ron" Kruszewski was born in 1958 in an unincorporated part of South Bend, Indiana, called Crumbstown. He is the second of four children, all born in succeeding years. "My dad was a barber when I was little," says Ron. "We used to play a game at school where you would put the chalkboard eraser on top of your head and see who could run around the longest before it fell off. I always won because I had the best flattop in town, compliments of my father."

As Ron grew up, his father took on other jobs. He became a fireman, and then had a lawn-mowing service. In wintertime, he plowed snow. "I remember getting up before sunrise so that I could ride in the truck with him as he plowed," says Ron. "It seems to me my dad worked all the time. I guess I got my strong work ethic from him. I have always appreciated how hard he worked to take care of our family."

Ron's mother provided emotional stability. A devout Catholic, one of Ron's earliest memories is seeing his mother crying when it was announced on the television that President Kennedy had been assassinated.

"I was raised in a simpler time," says Ron. "I had what was considered a very traditional upbringing, with the dad who worked and the mom who stayed home to take care of the family. They taught us to behave, to be honest, and to value good character. Friends and family were very important. My grandfather lived two doors down from us, and my aunt and cousins were within walking distance. It felt safe and secure."

One incident in Ron's childhood has always stayed with him. To save money, his mother often bought her children's school clothes from other mothers in the neighborhood. At school one day, a boy came up to Ron and made fun of him because he was wearing his old shirt. "I will never forget how that made me feel, which wasn't inferior," says Ron. "Well, maybe for five minutes it was. But I think it really demonstrated to me the importance of how we treat each other. It definitely upped my empathy quotient going forward."

Education, especially higher education, was not something that was greatly emphasized in Ron's family. He and his older brother slept in the basement of their home, and he recalls talking to his brother in the dark, telling him that one day he was going to make $100,000 a year. "My brother, who ended up serving in the Navy like my dad, just laughed at me. What I think I was trying to express in those talks was that I wanted a bigger life. At that point in time, the only way I knew to define a different path was in monetary terms."

In high school, Ron put forth little effort in his classes. He passed his courses but never did homework. His teachers told him he had great potential if he would apply himself more to his studies, but, at that age, he didn't really see the point. He spent much of his time working for his father's lawn-cutting service, bussing tables at his aunt's restaurant, and selling women's shoes. During his senior year, he decided he would attend Indiana University, making him the first in his family to go to college.

Once he was paying for his own education, working as a bouncer in a bar, Ron got serious about his grades. He went from being a C student to achieving straight A's. He majored in accounting and finance and graduated in 1980 Phi Beta Kappa. He took and passed the exam to be a certified public accountant and immediately joined KPMG Peat Marwick as an audit supervisor.

"I quickly realized that was not the job for me," says Ron. "As an auditor, you spend your time looking backward at last year's results. I am more inclined to figure out where things are going. While I didn't like my job, I excelled at it. I could have stayed and made good money, but I didn't want to remain in a career that didn't inspire me."

Ron wanted to get into investment banking, but soon discovered it was a tough industry to infiltrate without a personal connection. "In those days," he explains, "where you went to school was very important. It was like a club I was not allowed to join. I interviewed a lot, but no one would hire me."

Eventually, with the help of a client, he was able to join a small investment company, Illinois Company Investment, as a senior vice president and chief financial officer. He moved to Chicago, married, and started a family. Shortly before his second son was born, his company was sold to Household Finance. When he returned from taking some family leave, he was informed of a new corporate strategy. "I didn't agree with the direction they wanted to take," says Ron, "and I told them bluntly they were making a mistake. When I was called into my boss's office, I thought I was going to get a promotion because I saved the company from disaster. Instead, I was fired. Ultimately my position was correct, and the company eventually went bankrupt, but I wish I could have found a way to get my point across without shooting myself in the foot. My next job is where I learned how to up my social/emotional IQ."

Ron joined Robert W. Baird & Company as the chief financial officer of strategic planning. The firm's CEO, Fred Cast, served as an important mentor to Ron. "I came to realize that while I was very capable in my work, my emotional IQ was too low," he says. "I used to hear that I was like an All-American football player, except I tackled my teammates. I had to learn how to lead without browbeating and how to disagree with ideas without being dismissive. I was a very productive worker, but I was terrible at leading. Fred Cast taught me about that side of teamwork to accomplish goals, and I will always be grateful to him for that important lesson."

In 1997, Fred Cast was influential in helping Ron land the CEO position at a small investment company, Stifel Financial Corporation in St. Louis, Missouri. Ron clearly remembers that when he walked into the Stifel building, he wrote down his strategic plan, stating, "My success will have very little to do with me and a lot to do with how many people I can get to believe in what we are doing." By then, he had dramatically changed his attitude. "I had learned that there is no '˜I' in the word team," he says. "I had come to realize that strong people skills make us more effective, and I knew that getting the team to work cohesively was critical."

Ron's plan for Stifel was successful. Under his leadership, the company has gone from $100 million in revenues in a $26 million market cap to $3 billion in revenues in a $4 billion market cap and has increased its number of employees from 600 to 8,000. "I'm the CEO, so I get a lot of credit for our amazing growth," says Ron, "but it would have been impossible if not for a collective effort. In the end, it comes down to a way of looking at the Golden Rule, which says to treat others the way YOU want to be treated. I turn it around a bit and say we should treat others the way THEY want to be treated. It's never too late to learn this lesson."

When asked to define success, Ron says that his perspective on what that is has changed over the years. "When I was a kid talking to my brother about all the money I was going to make, I thought that's all I would ever need to be happy. But I was wrong. I believe that if you work hard, following the Golden Rule, and are fair in your dealings, then you will be successful. A byproduct of that is financial stability. I also think it's important to find a work/life balance."

Ron carries a card in his wallet that says, "Life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent how I react to it." Having a positive attitude, he believes, has been vital to his success. "It's all in how you look at things," he says. "Rather than viewing yourself as a victim when bad things happen, it's more positive to see what you can learn from the experience, and then move on."

Humbled to be receiving the Horatio Alger Award, Ron says, "It is a special award because it celebrates hard work and entrepreneurship, which is important, but the Association balances that with having empathy for those who are working hard to advance themselves. It aligns perfectly with my own ideas of what is important and gives the membership an opportunity to reach back with a helping hand to the younger generation. It isn't just philanthropy; it's also empathy. It's not just what you can give; it's the difference your presence can make."