In Memoriam 2021: Business

Ben Rechter

Behind-the-scenes businessman, philanthropist, activist

Few have loved Nashville as intensely and actively as Ben Rechter did. He had a big heart. He also had an impatient heart.

He was proud of Nashville’s growth, but he also had an urgent sense that we are outgrowing the things that have made this city great in the first place — that the Nashville we all fell in love with will disappear unless we protect and preserve its special character. Our kindness, our generosity, our willingness to help those who live around us.

Ben was particularly concerned about those neighbors who haven’t shared in the “It City” spotlight, affluence and self-esteem. He saw it as his quiet mission to try to change that. The organizations, institutions and lives that Ben Rechter touched are countless, from the Nashville Symphony and the National Museum of African American Music to Fisk University and the local chapter of the NAACP. He was one of the original founders of The Community Foundation of Middle Tennessee, and he was the driving force behind the more recent “We Are Nashville” initiative (wearenashville.com). Ben called that project a “family portrait” of a family grown too big to know each other, but one designed to help each of us finally see and meet others outside our usual ZIP codes. And to get us to use whatever resources we have, large or small, to make life better for everyone who lives here. Because as he said: “The only way we can get our community to change its behavior and become a truly great city … is by becoming a family. But we have to know each other first.”

Ben Rechter spent a lifetime trying to achieve that. And he did it quietly, anonymously, and without attribution. You won’t find any buildings named for him, but the results of his generosity and selfless engagement for good have left a positive mark on this city that should never be forgotten. Rechter died May 7. He was 83. —Kerry Graham

William “Bill” Holley

Ad man

Bill Holley was raised the only child of sharecroppers on a farm in Petersburg, Tenn., before leaving the rural community of fewer than 500 people for big-city Nashville and the Harris School of Advertising Art. He learned the value of a good sales pitch when he paid a boy on a bicycle 50 cents to get the name of a girl he spied on a porch — a slick move that led to 59 years of marriage and two daughters. 

He was just as successful professionally, starting his career in advertising as a freelancer and striking Cracker Barrel gold when he designed the fledgling company’s iconic logo; he then brought them to The Buntin Group, where he was proud to be “Employee Number One.” During his time there — nearly a half-century — he had a hand in building the brands for Red Lobster, O’Charley’s, Dollar General, Captain D’s, Shoney’s and Lowe’s. An honorable man who broke into the business in the Mad Men era, and a generous mentor to those who worked for him, he received the Nashville Advertising Federation’s Silver Medal for lifetime achievement in the field in 2006. In his acceptance speech, he shared the key to his success: “a career that made him feel like a kid going off to play in the sandbox every day.” —Kay West

Fred Harris

Recruiter, booster, businessman

Before Nashville was an “It City,” its main economic-development assets were hardworking industrial recruiters with charts that showed that Nashville was (sort of, at least) the center of the population of the continental United States. One such recruiter was Fred Harris, who died on Feb. 10. 

Fred was in his mid-40s in 1979, when a Japanese company called Nissan was searching for a place to build a car assembly plant in the South. As chamber officials such as Harris took Nissan executives all over Middle Tennessee, secrecy and diligence were the orders of the day. “We’d get up early and go all day,” Harris later said. “Then we’d go out to dinner and have 14 drinks, and then we’d sit down and review what we’d done all day. The hours were so long, I almost had to get divorced.”

Fred and his wife Laura went all-out to charm the Japanese car-company reps. They knew, in theory, what sushi was, but there was no place that made it in Tennessee back then. So Laura made sushi with freshwater fish caught in Tennessee. “I don’t remember how the sushi came out, but I think they appreciated the effort.”

After Fred successfully recruited Nissan, he became the vice president of economic development for the Nashville Area Chamber of Commerce. Eventually, the legend of Fred Harris grew. By the mid-1990s, when another wave of national companies moved to Nashville, he was known by just about everyone in economic development circles. His ability to keep secrets from reporters may have faded as the years went by. But he trusted people, and he was himself trusted by all. —Bill Carey

Forrest Shoaf

Attorney, businessman, storyteller

Nathan Bedford Forrest Shoaf — known to all as Forrest, mercifully — was in possession of one of the finer minds with which God ever graced a human. He was in command of a number of disciplines, including law, finance, politics, British and military history, Shakespeare, soul music and anything having to do with his beloved Tennessee and the broader South. His brilliance was often showcased through his gift at telling stories, whose plotlines most always involved close friends, brushes with the law (he and I were arrested together once), consumption of alcohol (which killed him ultimately), and the fact that Tina Turner babysat him as a child.

Educated at West Point, Vanderbilt and Harvard Law, Shoaf began his career as an attorney at Bass, Berry & Sims, then became general counsel in Lamar Alexander’s presidential campaign, then found his true calling in investment banking at J.C. Bradford & Co., where he was able to combine his massive financial and legal brainpower with his inimitable sales charm, which usually relied on his aforementioned storytelling. His last stop was at Cracker Barrel, where he was CFO and general counsel. (Among other investment banking assignments, Shoaf handled the sale of the Nashville Scene by its founders — Albie Del Favero and me.)

He was deeply conservative before deeply conservative was cool, and often destroyed armchair liberals on the old Teddy Bart’s Round Table radio show. He tried politics, once running for Congress against Marsha Blackburn, and after losing he called it an “exercise in narcissism.”

God may never make another human being like Forrest. He grew up on a 2,000-acre island in the middle of the Mississippi River, where his family grew cotton. It’s called Shoaf Island, and was settled by his ancestors, who had killed a Yankee after the Civil War and needed a place to hide. His ashes were distributed on the island, amid the stubble of cotton, surrounded by the great and mythic river. We read from the 1928 Book of Common Prayer, that being the version that literate Episcopalians prefer. “Unto Almighty God we commend the soul of our brother departed, and we commit his body to the deep.” The river rolled on. —Bruce Dobie

Albert Hale Hooper Jr.

Real estate agent, Nashville man in full

They just don’t make nicknames like they used to. Consider “Squatlow,” the sobriquet borne by Albert Hale Hooper Jr. from his time in college until his death New Year’s Day 2021 at the age of 87.

Hale, as he was known professionally or by those who didn’t feel intimate enough to call him “Squatlow,” was the leadoff hitter for the baseball team at Vanderbilt University, where he matriculated after two years in the Army in Korea. Like all great leadoff hitters, he knew his primary job was to get on base by whatever means necessary. Hooper bent his body as low and tight as he could to minimize the strike zone and draw a walk, and in the process earned himself a legendary nickname.

After Vanderbilt, the native Nashvillian — who’d attended old West High School — continued his extremely Nashville life by earning his law degree from the Nashville School of Law and then working for a decade at Genesco. He left Genesco in 1965 and founded Fridrich & Hooper Realty alongside Jerry Fridrich. The firm quickly became one of Nashville’s leading real estate agencies. In 1986, Hooper left the company he’d helped start and led the real estate group at Town & Country Realty, which similarly rose to local prominence. After decades of helping people find their dream homes, he moved to the finance side of the real estate process as a senior loan officer for PNC and Regions banks.

Hooper’s passion for sports never left him. He’d starred at football at West in addition to baseball — it was there he developed the curveball and wicked knuckler he used as a starting pitcher for the Commodores — and he continued to play tennis and golf throughout his life. —J.R. Lind

James Cheek III

Attorney, business leader, family man

In a 1996 Scene profile of the venerable Nashville law firm Bass, Berry and Sims, writer Bob Holladay noted that “an attorney who produces for the firm can expect, someday, to retire from Bass, Berry and Sims as a partner in the firm.” This was true of James Cheek III, who joined the firm (or “The Firm,” as the Scene christened it) in 1970 as an associate and retired as a partner nearly 50 years later. Cheek fit the mold at the time of hires for the firm founded by Frank Bass, Frank Berry and Cecil Sims in 1921: Nashville native, graduate of MBA, Duke University, Vanderbilt Law School and Harvard Law School. 

Cheek inarguably produced for the firm. In the Scene article, he recalled that when he started practicing there, “I did everything. Divorces, real estate titles, wills.” As his career progressed, he began to specialize in working with securities matters, mergers and acquisitions, and represented virtually every public company in Nashville and a number headquartered elsewhere. 

His reputation extended far beyond his hometown — he served as chair of the 40,000-member Business Law Section of the American Bar Association, as well as chair of the Legal Advisory Board of the New York Stock Exchange. He chaired the National Task Force on Corporate Responsibility, headed the Regulatory Auditor of the New York Stock Exchange for several years and was a founding fellow of the American College of Governance Counsel. At Vanderbilt Law School, he helped create the Elliott Cheatham Scholarship Fund, and in 2019 established the Cheek Business Law Scholarships and Cheek Scholars Summer Stipends to provide financial support to deserving students in Vanderbilt’s Law and Business Program. 

Cheek’s “retirement” was active — he taught, lectured and played competitive tennis regionally and nationally well into his 70s. An only child, Cheek built through marriages to two magnificent women — Sigourney Cheek, with whom he had three children and who died in 2012, and then Nicky Weaver, who survives him — an immediate, blended and extended family of 26 he titled the WeCheeks. He spent significant non-billable hours on them, planning memorable and adventurous trips that took the WeCheeks around the world. —Kay West

Jimmy Phillips

Longtime pre-press manager at Franklin Web Printing Co. 

Back when Franklin Web Printing Co. in Franklin was doing more high-volume printing, couple Jimmy and Renee Phillips were the king and queen of the pre-press. 

In printing, the folks who do pre-press work are incredibly important. They ensure that when an aluminum plate is made for a newspaper or magazine, it’s going to make the best print possible. Jimmy and Renee spent a lot of time learning new innovations in printing — moving from film to image setting to a process that’s used today called computer-to-plate. Jimmy would work days getting files ready to be turned into plates, and Renee would work nights — they’d often overlap or pass each other coming and going to the shop. Over the years, as business slowed down, Renee went to part-time and Jimmy did most of the pre-press work for the company himself.

When Jimmy died Nov. 4 at 72 years old, he had worked in the pre-press at Franklin Web for more than 22 years. He started his career in printing and photography at the Pulaski Citizen, first part-time while he was in school and later moving into full-time work for the paper. He also worked for Pulaski Web Printing before leaving to come to Franklin Web.

“Since he passed, we’ve had so many people reach out to say just how instrumental he was in helping them get their paper off the ground,” says Chris Coyle, vice president of Franklin Web Printing Co. “He really enjoyed helping people make a paper look good and teaching them how to do it right.”

His 50 years of learning and experience made him valuable, but his willingness to share it made him invaluable. Coyle recalls the time a local paper hired a new graphic designer fresh out of college to design the paper, and she was struggling to prepare the press files to send to Jimmy. Rather than getting irritated, Jimmy drove to the paper and spent a few hours helping her set up her computer and showing her how to do everything properly. If someone screwed something up, he didn’t care, as long as they cared enough to learn how to fix it.

“And then later she called and she said she learned more in those three hours than in her whole four years of college,” Coyle says. “He loved it because then, you know, you’d see the paper a month later and it would just look amazing. It meant a lot to him.”

When Jimmy found out he was sick earlier this year, Coyle says his biggest concern was his wife Renee. The couple lived rurally, loved and surrounded themselves with animals, and spent much of their time together. Coyle told Jimmy that they’d always be there for Renee: to help feed their animals, to mow the grass, to have a shoulder to cry on. And when she was ready, they’d have a spot ready for her running pre-press at Franklin Web. —Amanda Haggard

Alice Pearson Chapman

Consultant, partner, mentor 

I am writing this over Thanksgiving weekend, still in shock over the sudden death of Alice Chapman. She was a dear friend and business partner, the managing partner of our firm — MP&F Strategic Communications — and one of the most quietly impactful people I’ve ever known. She died on Nov. 9 at age 49.

Alice joined MP&F in 1995 after graduating from the University of Tennessee, and we were fortunate to have a front-row seat as she grew into a consummate professional and a master communications consultant. Her career was already full of accomplishments: She was instrumental in the rollout of curbside recycling in Nashville (remember Curby?) and later played a very important role in the seven-year campaign to allow wine to be sold in Tennessee grocery stores. And she was just getting started. 

We also watched her grow in her faith and bond with her peers at work, many of whom would become her lifelong friends. We were thrilled when she met the love of her life and husband, Tom Chapman, and we celebrated with them the birth of their beautiful children, Ryan and Cate. 

Alice became an MP&F partner in 2012 and our managing partner in 2019. We thrived under her leadership. She touched so many through her work for Nashville’s nonprofit community. She mentored so many young members of our staff, and it was great to see so many former MP&Fers who moved on to new careers come back to town for Alice’s funeral.

Alice died too soon. She was just hitting her stride, and it was glorious to share time with her. Our pledge to Alice is to appreciate every day we have on this earth and take nothing for granted. —David Fox

Patricia Champion Frist 

Philanthropist; education, arts and business icon 

Gabrielle Levon, Maroun Harb and Kaelen Cunnyngham — from Virginia, Texas and Kansas, respectively — never met Nashville philanthropy, education, arts and business icon Patricia Champion Frist. But the three Class of 2021 high school graduates were among the 588 recipients of the Patricia Frist Memorial Scholarship, founded as the HCA Healthcare Scholars Program in 2019 and renamed in her honor after her death in January. Since the program was founded, merit-based one-year scholarships totaling more than $7.5 million have been awarded to 2,168 dependents of HCA colleagues across the organization.

Known as Trisha, she worked alongside Dr. Thomas Frist Jr. — the Nashville native she married in 1961 after graduating Vanderbilt with a B.A. in history and English — and his father, Dr. Thomas Frist Sr., in founding the Hospital Corporation of America in 1968. She also helped create the HCA Foundation in 1982. Countless Nashvillians and visitors to Nashville have benefited from her vision, her largesse and her seemingly boundless energy, as the force behind the founding of the Frist Art Museum, United Way’s Alexis de Toqueville Society, the Thomas F. Frist Centennial Sportsplex, the YMCA Frist Teen Center in Green Hills and the Patricia Champion Frist Hall at Vanderbilt’s School of Nursing. She and her husband were major contributors to the Nashville Zoo, Second Harvest Food Bank, Cheekwood’s Frist Learning Center and, further from home, Princeton’s Frist Campus Center, as well as scholarships at Harvard Business School and Washington University.

A charismatic presence at any gathering — from Nashville’s glamorous white-tie balls to blue-jean pickin’ parties in a field under a full moon — Frist had a dazzling smile that shone bright. She was the stunning and steadfast matriarch of her family, full partner to her husband of six decades, inspiring role model to their three children and nine grandchildren, and benefactor to millions who never had the pleasure of her acquaintance. —Kay West

Sue Golden Atkinson

PR powerhouse 

It is an irony of the public relations industry that the most successful practitioners are sociable, engaging and magnetic, but must in turn be adept and diligent at deflecting the light that shines in their direction toward their clients. 

In her 30-year career, Sue Golden Atkinson was a master at subtly drawing people in, then turning their gaze to her remarkable roster — which included Nissan, First American Bank, the Nashville Predators, HCA Healthcare and TriStar Health. The onetime math and Latin teacher at John Overton High School entered the PR world with Holder Kennedy, becoming their first president and then breaking off to form Atkinson Public Relations in 1986. Her company not only represented A-list clients, but also trained multiple alums who took the lessons learned under her quiet tutelage and generous mentorship and created their own agencies as the industry grew in a burgeoning city.

She and Marvin Runyon — the auto industry executive, former U.S. postmaster general and chairman of the Tennessee Valley Authority, whom she married in 1987 — were among Nashville’s most dynamic power couples, concurrent with the city’s emergence as a vibrant Southern center of business and commerce. Together they supported numerous Nashville nonprofits, organizations and fundraising events and hosted one of the city’s most memorable and merriest Christmas parties every Dec. 23, with a 20-foot tree Atkinson decorated herself (presumably with the help of a ladder). The couple was deeply devoted to one another until his death in 2004.

A devastating automobile accident in 2012 resulted in serious injuries and more than 25 surgeries in the nine years before Sue’s death. Her son Brannan Atkinson and daughter-in-law Amy Atkinson — successful PR professionals themselves — say she faced each day with grace, strength, an iron will and refusal to feel sorry for herself. Aside from family and friends, she found companionship and comfort with her French bulldogs — Simone, who preceded her in death, and Brie, who survived her. —Kay West

In Memoriam 2021

Commemorating some of the irreplaceable Nashville figures we lost this year