Mort Meyerson isn’t merely a business giant; he helped others find their way. After my recent profile of Meyerson, currently in hospice, I was flooded with anecdotes, letters of praise and abiding love for a hidden-in-plain-sight hero who made people feel better about Dallas, ourselves and our purpose.
We’ve collected several memories below, which have been edited for length and clarity.
‘He never thought inside the box’: A business genius
Ross Perot Jr., chairman, Hillwood and the Perot Group
I met Mort as a boy when my father brought me to weekend meetings at EDS [Electronic Data Systems]. Even then, Mort stood out. He never thought inside the box.
Over the years, I had the privilege of working with Mort at EDS, during the 1992 presidential campaign and later at Perot Systems. He was instrumental to our success — especially when he led our expansion into India in the mid-1990s.
It was a bold, unconventional move, and our early offices didn’t even have power 24 hours a day. But Mort’s vision laid the foundation for global growth. By the time we sold to Dell in 2009, we had nearly 20,000 associates across four campuses in India.
Beyond business, I saw Mort’s deep devotion to family. On Monday, I had the chance to thank him for everything. I held his hand and told him how much I love him. His impact on my life is immeasurable.
Peter Altabef, former CEO of Perot Systems, board of directors chair, Unisys
I’ve been honored to count Mort Meyerson, along with Ross Perot Sr. and Tom Luce, as my professional mentors. Mort not only serves as an example but also takes time to explain why he made certain decisions, both professionally and personally. He has a keen way of “looking around corners” to the non-obvious and not-yet-apparent. His leadership — community-wide, nationally and internationally — deserves respect.
Tom Luce, founding partner of Hughes & Luce and general counsel to EDS
I had the pleasure of working with Mort for almost 50 years. He’s a passionate man — smart, creative and kind. He once told me if Pam, my wife of 65 years, ever needed anything after I passed, to just give him a call.
Todd Maclin, former vice chairman, JP Morgan Chase
I have only known Mort for 10 years, but in that short period, I have spent many hours in his good company and come to respect his wide reach and huge heart. More than most people, his service to others defines him, and DFW is a better place thanks to Mort Meyerson.
Joe Boyd, Perot and EDS executive
My first job out of college was with EDS. Mort was CEO, and I admired him, but I didn’t get to know him till later in my career, when I ran the Healthcare Business Unit for Perot Systems and Mort joined as CEO. During contract negotiations with my largest healthcare customer, one of Perot Systems’ most important contracts, I’d reached an impasse. My team was not-so-politely invited out of the office. We were done!
I went to see Mort. He listened to me vent but reminded me I could get things back on track when emotions subsided. Then he stood up, slapped me on the back, shook my hand and said, “Joe, you will get this done, and I want you to understand I am with you, win or WIN!”
I’ll never forget the encouragement — and the existential risk — of that moment when failure was not an option. Mort gifted me one of the best business lessons of my career.
I consider him to be my mentor, my coach and a second father.
‘Too peoply out there’: A friend and leader
Gail Petersen Teig, childhood friend
We called him Morton. I walked with him home from Alice Carlson Elementary. He lived on Stadium Drive and I on Westcliff Road South. We cut through the old Worth Hills Golf Course, now a part of TCU. There was a pond along the way. He dared me to jump in one time. I said I would but had to take off my dress so he couldn’t look. I did and assume he didn’t. I won the dare. But when I got home, my mother asked how the tips of my pigtails got wet. Not sure how I got through that. Our neighborhood used to play “kick the can” on summer nights. In later years when we saw each other at reunions, Mort would always say, “How ‘bout a game of kick the can?” He remembered, and so did I.
Richard W. Lariviere, president emeritus, Field Museum of Natural History, Chicago
Mort Meyerson is the finest man I know. He achieved a lot in business, more than all but a small number could understand. But his greatest achievement is his family. He is a hero for his compassion, generosity and the depth of his empathy. To have him as a friend is to have a blessing.
Carol Minker, family friend
Mort’s dear mother Bernice was my Sunday school teacher at Beth-El Congregation in Fort Worth. One day, her incredibly handsome teenage son came into our classroom, and I had a fourth grader’s crush!
We reconnected as adults at Canyon Ranch Spa in Arizona, where I often took clients as a travel guide. I remember Mort sitting at a round table in back of the main restaurant where he would “hold court” with my clients, sharing wisdom, acts of kindness and philanthropy. He wore rubber Crocs, shorts and a Dallas Symphony T-shirt like a “regular guy.” My husband Richard and I fondly remember hiking with him and his son David when they came to the Ranch.
A meditation by Rabbi Jacob Rudin epitomizes Mort: “When we are dead, and people weep for us and grieve, let it be because we touched their lives with beauty and simplicity. Let it not be said that life was good to us, but, rather, that we were good to life.”
Louise and Gordon Appleman, family friends
Mort Meyerson is the best. Succinct, forthright and honest. He is dedicated to family, inspirational in his tzedakah [a Jewish concept of giving to those in need], loyal to friends, scrupulous in his principles, a sincere and effective steward — all with a good-natured playfulness.
June Berry, fellow Paschal High School grad
Morton was senior president at Fort Worth’s Paschal High School, Class of 1956, and he has continued to be our leader in the nearly 70 years since. He’s always involved in planning reunions, maintaining strong relationships with friends from as far back as elementary school and quietly performing acts of kindness all along the way. His successes in business are well-known and impressive. More importantly, those of us who are privileged to call him a friend admire his thoughtfulness and generosity, his loyalty, his gift for bringing out the best in others and his devout faith. A fine man, indeed.
Renee Swinson, massage therapist
I was fortunate to spend 90 minutes with Mort every week for about a decade. We instantly bonded, two introverts who agreed it was “too peoply out there.” He taught me about Judaism and philanthropy.
Almost every week, he showed up with an unexpected gift. Sometimes it was a rare find at the grocery store like a purple sweet potato, and once it was a fancy espresso machine. We’d chat about his road trips between Bozeman and Dallas, each trip following a different route to visit local nonprofits. He would chat with them to learn about their work and understand their needs and ultimately write an unexpected huge check.
Mort taught me what it is to live a life of genuine kindness.
‘The antithesis of rich-folk Dallas clichés’: An arts leader
Fabio Luisi, music director, Dallas Symphony Orchestra
Mort often says he’s not a musician, but his knowledge and judgment about music and musicians are some of the most profound and accurate I know. I wish the so-called music experts had his understanding of what music is, beyond the surface and free of biases. His opinion is never obvious and always refreshing.
Skip Hollandsworth, Texas Monthly writer
I only saw Mort face-to-face a handful of times. Our main form of communication was the phone, and I would shake my head, flabbergasted, listening to him wax on about everything from business deals to singing in the Dallas Symphony Chorus.
He was a masterful raconteur. But as opposed to most titans I met, Mort loved asking me — a magazine writer, for God’s sake — questions about my own life. He challenged me to do better, to write more fluently, to look for more interesting stories than the ones I was turning in. I will never forget him.
Scott Cantrell, Dallas Morning News classical music critic
Thirty-six years after its opening, the Meyerson Symphony Center looks as fresh and elegant as ever, a true classic, and the sumptuous sound is unmatched. Few remember that Morton chaired the committee to pick the architect and acoustician and supervised the design and construction of the whole project.
My predecessor John Ardoin introduced me to Morton, and over emails and occasional meals, I’ve come to value a first-rate mind that brooked no nonsense yet was caring with people and things. And funny! He became quite well-to-do, but you wouldn’t guess it. The antithesis of rich-folk Dallas clichés, he was proud of knowing cheap and out-of-the-way eateries.
Morton has been an unassuming giant in the history of Dallas.
‘The highest form of giving is anonymous’: A generous spirit
Jeremy Smith, president, Rainwater Charitable Foundation
In the spring of 2016, Mort Meyerson visited the Rainwater office with a copy of The New York Times under his arm. In the newspaper was a story about a student experiencing homelessness who went on to graduate from Harvard with help, in part, from The New York Times College Scholarship Program.
“I think we need something like this here,” said Mort, who knew the Rainwater brothers from childhood. Richard Rainwater, Walter Rainwater and Mort Meyerson all attended the same Fort Worth high school. Each of the boys came from immigrant families, went on to receive a great education, became highly successful in their own fields and ultimately all three shared a deep desire to help children find pathways to success, just as they had.
It didn’t take much to convince us to partner together for what would become the Dream Big Fort Worth Scholars Program. Since then, thousands of students have applied, and each year we’ve invested in local scholars. Three weeks ago, Mort Meyerson, nearly 87 and terminally ill, made the trip to Fort Worth early one Saturday morning to interview 11 bright students from across Tarrant County to hear their stories and encourage them to never give up on their dreams.
Mort stayed all day and into the early evening. All 11 students won the award.
Rebecca Hobson, executive director, Morton H. Meyerson Family Foundation
If you have ever received an email from Morton, you know he communicates in his own unique shorthand — direct, efficient and focused on substance over form. He evaluates nonprofits with that same style. No need for lengthy, formal proposals. He prefers face-to-face conversations with leaders and program staff. He wants to understand who they are, what drives them and why their work matters. For Morton, their personal stories are just as meaningful as their organization’s mission or impact. The foundation has responded to large-scale needs, but what resonates most with Morton are the often-overlooked gaps. He’s drawn to efforts like emergency funds for first-generation college students, where a seemingly small gift can change the course of a life.
Shrub Kempner, family friend, CEO of Kempner Capital Management, Galveston
He has lived his life as the embodiment of the Hebrew term “tikkun olam,” an injunction that calls on us to make the world a better place. Few have done that more effectively than Mort. We all owe him thanks.
Mary Pat Higgins, president and CEO, Dallas Holocaust and Human Rights Museum
I received a call from Mort in the spring of 2024. It’s always exciting when he calls, because he has a goal in mind. This time he wanted to know about the museum’s Upstander Partnership, a program with area school districts to provide lessons, activities, field trips and educator training for K-12 grades. His goal was for us to extend this program to the west side of the metroplex. I am proud to say that, thanks to Mort’s encouragement and support, we have been able to secure a new district for the 2025-2026 school year. He’s a change-maker.
Charles Ginsburg, emeritus professor, UT Southwestern
Mort is the ultimate creationist — he creates new ideas, new opportunities and new resources with humility and caring.
Caitlin McInerney, director, Jack and Shirley Silver Center for Diverse Abilities
When I first met Mort, we discussed a vision to expand access to wellness services for neurodiverse constituents at the Marlene Meyerson JCC Manhattan. As an active member of our fitness center, Mort had observed one of our members training with a personal coach, Justin. That observation, and the conversations that followed, laid the foundation for what has become a transformative initiative.
The creation of the Adaptive Personal Training pilot program was made possible through a scholarship fund he established. This pilot allowed us to welcome more than 50 new teens and adults with diverse abilities into our fitness center over the past year. The majority of these individuals previously faced barriers to accessing personalized, adequate and affordable fitness services tailored to their needs.
I imagine typical feedback from a personal training program would focus on achieving health and fitness goals. However, these participants and their families described a much deeper impact. They shared stories of how the program empowered them, increased their self-awareness, boosted self-esteem and positively transformed their perspective on their abilities and confidence as they navigated life within and beyond the community center.
I remain deeply grateful to have worked with Mort. His drive to make the world a better, more inclusive place will continue to inspire me and the entire team at the Marlene Meyerson JCC Manhattan. I often think of the Mary Oliver quote Mort had in his email signature: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
Cathy Barker, CEO of Jewish Family Service in Dallas
We provide social services to families in need, regardless of age, ethnicity or religion, a mission that went right to Mort’s heart. He always told me, “If you have a special situation, and I can help, let me know.” Well, that was hard to decide. We had so many tough individual and family situations come our way, and I’d wonder, who could I possibly send to him? But we did reach out to him over the years, and he helped so many — always anonymously.
In Judaism, the highest form of giving is anonymous. No credit. No recognition. You do it because you can, and it’s the right thing to do. This was Mort’s philanthropy. It could be big or small, but it had to make a real difference, and he wanted zero credit for it.
David Meltzer, anthropology professor at Southern Methodist University
It was an early Sunday morning on Lower Greenville, and Mort and I had bicycled over for breakfast. We were eating when a Dallas Fire Department ambulance pulled up, followed by a couple fire trucks, and the crew came in and sat down. Soon at least 25 firemen and EMTs were gathered around tables having animated conversations — probably a shift change on a quiet morning.
Mort and I kept talking, but at some point he glanced at their tables a nanosecond longer than normal, and I thought: I know where this is going. Sure enough, Mort handed the server his credit card and quietly said, please charge their bill to my card, but say nothing more. Then we peddled off, the firemen and EMT crews none the wiser. It was but one of countless moments, small and large, when Mort expressed his heart, his generosity and his utter disinterest in getting credit for his kindness.
‘What does eternal life mean?’: How Meyerson will live on
Dennis Crumpler, chairman, Reveille Software
After my first software company went public in the late ‘80s, I was adopted by a hiking group of business veterans, including Mort and Richard Marcus, as the “new guy,” 15 years younger than the rest. Those walks in fascinating places involved some of the most candid, varied and meaningful conversations I’ve had, all with guys a turn or two ahead of me on the road of life.
But in private discussions, Mort shared his approach to philanthropy, which I found contagious. His preference was to meet directly with people who run charities — typically smaller ones with established track records but room to grow — by providing encouragement, analysis and money. He took me on road trips to meet some of them, like a performance venue on a southwest Virginia lake, and I was exposed firsthand to the power and promise of his approach. Business taught Mort to seek points of leverage, invaluable insight in helping nonprofits become more effective.
So Mort not only spoke with me about tzedakah, he went to great effort to show me. That influence has shaped my community involvement, charitable giving and behavior in ways that may well influence others after I’m gone.
Long live his fine example.
Rabbi Joy Levitt, CEO of the Jerusalem Foundation
The first time I met Mort Meyerson, he gave me a hard time. It was 25 years ago, and I felt challenged by his assessment of me. It would be years before I understood this was Mort’s way of saying you mattered to him, you were worth time and energy. I decided then to be his student — on his terms, not mine. I would learn what he had to teach me — about being the CEO of what would eventually be called the Marlene Meyerson JCC Manhattan, about being a mom, a mentor, a friend, a human being.
What does eternal life mean if not that a teacher’s voice will be forever in the head and heart of his student and the students of his student? I will never assume I know everything; I will always turn every conception upside down and sideways; I will be a lifelong learner; I will see the image of God in everyone I meet; I will challenge the status quo; I will find the people who want to improve the world and fight to support them with everything I’ve got.
