Guiding Heart

Richard Murray Libby, PhD, arrived on campus 11 years ago, sharing the new president’s last name. As it turned out, he also brought perspective that would create his own distinction.

Richard Libby was all strapped in. A 19-year-old, Libby was moments away from his first official Super Modified Sportsman car race. BY MICHAEL CANDELARIA

Yet, there was still time for a pep talk or, more accurately, a reality check from his big brother.

Philip Libby, one of three older brothers, walked up to the driver’s side of the car and told Richard he was going to win the race. Richard responded somewhat sheepishly, “I’m going to try.” That was a mistake. Philip became irate and ripped into his little brother. “Libbys don’t try,” Philip exclaimed. “You are going to go out there and win this race. And if you don’t think so, you should get out of that seat!” As Richard retold the story from nearly 60 years ago, he emphasized the absence of arrogance in his brother’s voice. Instead, there was merely expectation.

Young Richard didn’t win that race. In fact, he flipped his car, the unavoidable consequence of circumstances. But he hasn’t forgotten that day — not so much because of the framed photo he keeps of that car lying upside-down, but more because of his brother’s message. “That became a really important principle to me,” Richard said. “If you’re going to do something, you put your heart and soul in it.” Later, Philip would become a Hall of Fame Driver in New England, succeeding in what was a forerunner to NASCAR. So, too, would another brother, Robert. The oldest brother, George, was a race-engine builder.

Richard Murray Libby, PhD

Richard, who began tinkering with cars at the age of 8, became a pretty fair racer, briefly, in his own right. Even more, being raised in the small country town of Buxton, Maine, during the 1940s and ’50s, Richard grew to be patient and tenacious.

Decades later, those characteristics, combined with his advancement through higher education, would greatly impact Stetson. In a very good way.

NO FAIRY-TALE START Richard Murray Libby was the youngest of nine children, with the oldest being almost 21 years his senior. He was an 11th-generation product of an English fisherman who arrived on the coast of Maine in 1635. Not coincidentally, Richard enjoys genealogy, now nearing the completion of a book that identifies, in minute detail, everyone on the paternal and maternal sides of his family tree — more than 250 descendants. He’s been working on the book since 1977. His early story, though, wasn’t exactly a fairy tale. His words: “I learned from my parents that, ‘Richard, the world does not revolve around you.’”

Libby graduated from high school in 1960 but didn’t receive a bachelor’s degree until nine years later before ultimately earning a doctorate in 1977. During the years in between, he went from being

For Wendy and Richard Libby, mutual admiration and respect have defined their 37-year relationship. Photos: courtesy of Stetson University Marketing

a young husband and father, with résumé highlights that ranged from pumping gas while in high school and operating a tramway crane at a paper mill late at night at the young age of 18, to innovating as an administrator in higher education and inspiring as a college president.

The synopsis: A slow start was put in the rearview mirror, as Libby raced forward, gaining formal education whenever and however he could. In the end, he frequently lapped those around him. His mantra: “I’m not giving in; I’m not giving up.” Such thinking was almost to a fault, with him sometimes having to “kick myself about pushing too much, too fast, too far.”

CAREER ASCENSION His climb began at local Gorham State College (now the University of Southern Maine). The son of a construction carpenter, he loved drawing architectural plans. He eventually started a drafting-services practice, called Richard Libby & Associates.

Noticing his success, officials at Southern Maine Technical College (SMTC) hired him to teach engineering graphics. He was 26, without a master’s degree and very well-received. A year later, he was head of the department.

His unlikely rise continued at Iowa State University, where he was enrolled as a graduate student teaching industrial education, again despite not having a master’s. Libby took a leave of absence to attend ISU, intent on returning directly to SMTC with full credentials. He never did.

In 14 months at ISU, he earned that master’s degree while also beginning to pursue split-cognate doctoral studies in architecture and higher education. Declaring that he simply didn’t know enough about higher-education administration, he wanted to sharpen his skills in management — planning, organizing, leadership and control, which came later in postdoctoral studies at Harvard University and Stanford University summer institutes.

Those components would evolve into his calling card, deft team building.

Then there was further personal progression as the founding director of the Center for Career Education at Central Michigan University, followed by a doctoral fellowship at Michigan State University — where he earned his doctorate degree.

Subsequently, he became dean of the College at Central Ohio Technical College on the regional campus of The Ohio State University/Newark. After five years, he became president of Muskingum Area Technical College (MATC, now Zane State College) in Zanesville, Ohio. As president, he taught at least one

Before arriving on campus, the Libbys committed to funding the construction of a second garage at the President’s House.

Wendy and Richard met in July 1983 at a Stanford University summer institute on higher education. They were married on Sept. 14, 1985.

graduate course a year at Ohio University and/or The Ohio State University, focusing on up-to-date practices.

There, by virtue of his uncommon background, he enhanced MATC’s enrollment, finances and economic stability with local and regional industries, at a time when the state of Ohio was in a gratingly sluggish Rust Bucket economy. For his efforts, he was granted commendations by the Ohio state House and Senate, the governor’s office and the Board of Regents.

NEW BEGINNING During his tenure at MATC, he met the former Wendy Beth (Trozzi) Phoenix, Stetson’s future president.

It was the summer of 1983 at the Institute for Higher Education Business Management at Stanford. She sat directly behind him in the classroom of about 40 professionals. He was the only college president. “She was a remarkable woman,” he described. “I had my doctorate and my presidency. I enjoyed all of that. And then I met Wendy ... more joy.”

As their relationship developed, he would drive 475 miles one way from Zanesville, Ohio, to Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, to see her. They were married in 1985.

By that time, he had eclipsed college presidency and moved on. Following MATC, he became executive director of the Connecticut State Technical College System, essentially a chancellor working with the state board and heading up five colleges, each with its own president.

Upon early retirement, he was selected as the first president of the what now is known as the independent Private College 529 Plan, establishing a national leadership board and recruiting nearly 100 colleges and universities during the first year. That was in 1998. There’s a story about that presidency, too. At the time, Wendy B. Libby, PhD, was advancing, working at Furman University (as the first woman vice president). Richard was starting to take a step back, enjoying work in architecture outside of higher education.

By coincidence, Richard had traveled to Atlanta with Wendy to attend a meeting of representatives of the founding institutions in the effort to legally extend national college prepaid programs to private colleges. Richard’s presence was outside the meeting, but it was recognized. He left Atlanta as the founding president.

“I took a trip to Atlanta and wound up a president,” he recalled. In his first year on the job, his work with the founding members led to the creation of what was then called the Tuition Plan Consortium. The group grew in strength and won critical congressional, Internal Revenue Service, Treasury, and Securities and Exchange Commission approvals to make the investments tax--exempt, similar to state plans. The program has current assets of approximately $350 million. The story is quintessential Richard Libby, then and now. With that historical trace as the backdrop, Richard and Wendy Libby would arrive at Stetson a decade later.

AT STETSON Wendy Libby expectedly took the lead upon arrival.

There was no uncertainty about roles in the Libby household. Look at a photo and the husband of the president is nearby, for certain, but always off to the side in a position of support.

Richard Libby was ideally suited for that role and, it turned out, much more.

His most telling declaration, made often but in this instance a few months ago: “Wendy comes first. She always has. She always will.”

While he generally loves to tell stories, as he tends to acknowledge with a laugh, he is particularly effusive about his wife.

Typical comments range from “She is incredibly intelligent” and “She knows the importance of neutrality” to “She is a financial wizard” and “She is a fabulous listener who knows the importance of neutrality, but that doesn’t mean you’re always going to get your way.”

Two more: “I can go on and on about her experience. But she doesn’t force herself and her values on you” and “She has a way of instilling confidence.”

In addition, Richard Libby cut his own path at Stetson, creating other roles for himself.

Most notably, there was instant gravitation toward student mentorship, particularly within the university’s original Shooting Club (shotguns only; no handguns, rifles or armament), which he helped to establish in 2010 with “fine student support and leadership,” noted Libby, who has been a lifelong avid hunter.

Largely by virtue of his guidance, it’s now the Stetson Clay Target Team, recognized internationally and fortified by a funding endowment he established, which last spring exceeded its original goal of $100,000. Significant community leaders and, not surprisingly, former student team members pushed the fundraising over the top. “They are my kids,” Libby said about the team members. “I treat them just like they’re my own kids.”

Before arriving at Stetson, other funding assistance had come in the form of a commitment from the Libbys to build a second garage at the President’s House. Last September, that structure was dedicated as “Richard’s Garage.”

Libby assumed the title of University Mentor, given by Athletics Director Jeff Altier, who at the time had spent more than two decades on campus as a student-athlete and administrator. Libby and Altier hit it off from the outset.

So, too, did Libby and then-outgoing Stetson President H. Douglas Lee, PhD. With both having been retired college presidents, there were more than a few common threads. They had fun.

“We used to have belly-laugh breakfasts,” Libby said of Lee. “We’d laugh to the point where the next morning our tummy muscles were sore — about the presidency and all the things that had happened during our tenures.”

Much, it turned out, did happen at Stetson, as wife and husband effectively elevated the university to new heights, and in some cases together. Naturally, they were named honorary alumni, together, at Homecoming 2019.

They concurred abour the fundamentals that Richard had relied upon so many years earlier: Plan. Organize. Lead. Control. Together. “I never tried to be pushy … but was, indeed, polite and firm. The same with Wendy,” he said.

“You have to take it from an acquaintance to a friendship stage. That’s what I’ve always tried to do with my students, with my faculty, with my deans, with my vice presidents, trustees and even governors and legislators. That sounds like a bunch of babble. But those are my principles.”

Richard’s journey was long to get to Stetson, and he landed at just the right place. Now, he’s in a good spot in life, too.

“I don’t spend one minute of my life whining about things,” he asserted a couple of months ago.

That’s true about retiring as University Mentor, a role he relishes, but a decision he affirmed with a lamenting, “Yeah.”

Also, it’s even true about the Libbys’ impending departure. Sometime around late May, they will move out of the President’s House and into a home purchased only a few miles away, within the age 55-plus section of a growing community. Richard is looking ahead. He has returned, momentarily, to a familiar position: residential architecture with the renovation of their new home.

And, of course, he’s turned a talented construction crew into the type of well-oiled machine he once raced those many years ago — using an approach that since 2009 has been staple for him at Stetson: effective team building.

That hasn’t changed. Yet, change is coming. With a slight sigh and a broad smile, Richard captured the essence of time and place for the university, Wendy and himself: “We’re entering a new era.”

Growing up in southern Maine, Libby learned to hunt. It became a passion through the years — and another place to exhibit both his tenacity and fun-loving nature.