|
Starting
early
Photo Caption:
Allen Sutker and Brian Abrahams in the Grand Ballroom at Navy Pier during
last September's Charita-Ball.
Just when it seems that the
only thing young professionals think about is amassing millions, along
come 38-year-old Allen Sutker, 37-year-old Brian Abrahams and friends,
who say philanthropy is also where it's at.
In 1995, about seven years
after co-founding VisionTek, a Gurnee-based computer memory and graphics
board manufacturing company that was ringing up $300 million in sales,
Sutker's thoughts turned to giving back. The result was Charita-Ball,
an annual fundraising bash he conceived with Abrahams, then VisionTek's
marketing director (now an independent marketing consultant).
Held at the Field Museum in
April 1996, Charita-Ball drew more than 3,300 and netted $340,000 the
first year. The annual event, which moved to Navy Pier the following year,
has attracted a total of more than 12,000 people and netted more than
$1.9 million.
Sutker, a Highland Park resident,
gives credit to his parents, Calvin (the Cook County commissioner) and
Phyllis, for his view: "I make money so I can take money to do good things."
But the "do good things" idea
fermented until 1995, when he mentioned to Abrahams wanting to work for
a charity when he retired.
"Something clicked. I thought,
I hate when people say, 'I'm going to do this after I do this.' That's
putting things off. Brian said, 'Why wait?'"
The two decided that the beneficiaries
of their efforts would be the American Cancer Society and the Leukemia
Research Foundation. Sutker's friend Jerry Shatal had died from leukemia
in 1989. Abrahams' dad, David, died from cancer in 1995.
To also instill in their contemporaries
a passion for philanthropy, "we deliberately set the ticket price low
at $50. Our primary objective was not raising money, though we did that.
Our theory was to get people to start thinking about other people," Sutker
said.
Abrahams, chairman of the
VisionTek Foundation, which was primarily organized to operate Charita-Ball,
explained: "Working in the high-tech industry, we see people who have
achieved financial success when very young. They are not plugged into
philanthropy because success came so young and so quickly. Look at the
fortunes made in the past. It took decades to accumulate. People were
in their 50s and 60s. By then they were older and very community-minded
and ready to give back."
Approaching their venture,
they decided to plan big, aiming for 1,000 people and renting the Field
Museum, among Chicago's largest benefit venues.
"People told us that guests
would look lost,"' Abrahams said. "They said it's better to get a small
room and pack it."
They also had to convince
American Cancer Society officials that they were not just two people with
more moxie than sense.
"I asked to see [American
Cancer Society Chicago area director] Carol Shaw," Abrahams said. "At
first, she was very skeptical. She said, 'We don't allow just anybody
to use the American Cancer Society name' ... we ended up holding an event
larger than just about anything they hold,"
The society took in half of
the $340,000 raised the first year and a third of the $430,000, $400,000
and $650,000 raised the following three years, when Children's Memorial
Hospital was also a recipient.
Shaw doesn't remember the
skepticism, just how impressive Sutker and Abrahams were.
"They are phenomenal. They
apply their business philosophy to how they raise money for charity. It
has been amazing what they have been able to accomplish over the past
four years," Shaw said. "First-time events are not typically highly successful.
But the way they approached everything, I knew they would be a success."
To get the crowd, the pair
wrote a base list of about 100 people, then told each person to find 20
others. "Everyone came through," Sutker said. "And everyone sent out their
own invitations. People felt left out if they didn't get one. I had people
calling me up to get an invitation to the event."
One of those recruiters,
Rosemont investment banker Rob Chapman, brought in 65 guests.
"It started with, some guys
on the North Shore contacting friends," Chapman said. "It started out
small. But a person told a friend, who told a friend, who told a friend
... It just goes to show you how networking really does work."
So did offering food, drinks
and live music for just $75 (up from $50 for the past three years, and
$85 at the door) in a casual atmosphere (suit-to-jeans), according to
Abrahams, who says the low price is possible thanks to Charita-Ball's
corporate sponsors.
"To bring people in, we emphasized
that corporate donors covered the costs so that individual donations went
to fighting cancer and leukemia," Abrahams said. "Once we had the people
in the' room, we wanted to touch them as much as we could to interest
them in future philanthropy."
And touch them they did, particularly
through a ceremony performed each year that personalizes death from cancer.
The hall darkened as Abrahams spoke to guests who grasped chemical light
sticks.
"First we talk about how when
you walk down the street and see someone who looks beaten or downtrodden,
you do not know the person's pain in life, what happened to him or her.
Then I say, anyone who has lost a child to cancer break a stick. You see
a few lights go on. Then, anyone who has lost a parent. More lights go
on. Friends. More go on. When we're done, there are lights all over the
room. You have more than 3,000 people there, and virtually everyone has
broken a stick. Everyone has been touched by cancer."
Nancy Greenfield of Highland
Park calls the event "magical" for the money it raises and the love it
generates.
"Once people started to get
involved with Charita-Ball, it started to filter down. People became active
in Make-A-Wish.... It all ties in," she said.
Sutker last year used his
Charita-Ball experience to help Ross Deutsch of Highland Park hold a fundraiser
for pediatric brain tumor research, an event that will be repeated this
April. The fundraiser was held in memory of Deutsch's 7-year-old son Rory,
who died of a brain tumor in 1998, and of 7-year-old Danny Cunniff, who
died of leukemia that same year.
"Originally, it was someone
passing away from cancer [and leukemia] that started the ball rolling,"
Greenfield said. "People got involved, they knew where their money was
going to go. I have two kids. God only knows what the future will bring
to them. The money and effort help all these kids, if not today, then
tomorrow."
Sutker and Abrahams could
hardly have said it better.
"We're all lucky enough to
be here, walking around," Sutker said. "If what we raise can save one
child and that child is yours, that's pretty big."
Sutker plans to put Charita-Ball
on hold for a year as he works with Deutsch on his fundraiser. Anyone
interested in helping with future Charita-Balls or in the Vision-Tek Foundation
can call 847-360-7285.
|