ixty years ago, when a bottle of Coca Cola sold for a nickel and Stanford tuition was a fraction of its current cost, Stanford junior William R. Kimball, an economics major, found an original means to pay his way through school—selling Coke. "At the time, you could only buy Coke at a couple of places on campus. I bought the franchise from a company in San Jose and began selling Coke in the fraternity and sorority houses, and also installed vending machines at various locations." Bill bought the drinks for 3.7 cents, sold them for a nickel to the sororities and fraternities, who in turn sold them for 7 cents to their members. "Back then, it was all on the honor system—anyone who wanted a Coke simply signed their name on a sheet of paper and left the money. That wouldn't work today," he adds wryly.

"One morning," he recalls, "my fraternity brothers were all looking at me funny, glancing over to a copy of the Stanford Daily. 'Machine Gives Out Free Cokes,' the headline read. Apparently, one of my machines had gone crazy. I ran over to the boat house and saw that some 60 bottles were gone. Later, I discovered most of them in my fraternity brothers' closets—they gave them all back."

That spirit is what stands out most in his memory. "Stanford was a smaller place," he says. "We had bonfires before the Big Game and fireworks to celebrate every victory." Most of all, he thinks of Stanford as a place that produces leaders. That is what he strove to be—both in the business world and as a philanthropist.

After college, he joined the Army and later went to Harvard Business School. But despite an impressive resume, he says, potential employers were always more interested in the business he started as a Stanford undergraduate.

While life and business have taken him in other directions, he has proven time and again that the success he enjoyed in his first business was no fluke. "Let's just say, I have been very fortunate. I have enough to care for myself, my family, and others," he says of his remarkable philanthropic record.

	Kimball Fellows from left: 1st row: Stephanie Sours, Elaine Sin, Gypsy Achong, Ji Zhu, Chuan-Hua Chen 2nd Row: Gregg Wilmes, Daewoong Suh, Shwetabh Verma, Christian Goldsmith 3rd row: Blake Ashby, Johnathan Clark, Wade Henning, Hanno Lustig, Kevin Marks, Jeff Chang Absent: Nicolaos Toumbas, Takayuki Kohata

Although he was graduated in 1941, Bill Kimball never really left campus. He has been a dedicated volunteer, which has won him numerous honors, including the Gold Spike award; he was a member and chair of the Board of Trustees for 11 years; he was one of four co-chairs of the Centennial Campaign; and, above all, he is one of Stanford's most generous donors. Kimball Hall, the Lester L. Carter scholarships in the School of Engineering (established in 1956 in memory of his former wife's father), and most recently his gift to establish 17 William R. and Sara Hart Kimball Stanford Graduate Fellowships, are but a few of his contributions.

What drives this seemingly endless commitment? "Pure and simple love," he says. "I love and respect Stanford. I have seen it develop from a good to an excellent university under the direction of Wally Sterling. I see it now under the direction of President Casper, who is doing a splendid job, and we could not wish for anything better." Stanford never ceases to inspire him, he says. From Wally Sterling, to the faculty who taught him, to Kenneth Cuthbertson (former vice president for development) to Gerhard Casper and John Ford, "I am inspired by the work they do and by what Stanford has become, thanks to them."

Bill's philanthropy spans the nation. In Utah, his home state, he established the Kimball Art Center; and in Oregon, he and his late wife Sara endowed a professorship at her alma mater, Oregon State University. But, undoubtedly, California is the biggest beneficiary of his generosity. From the environment to the homeless, from education to the mentally ill, from the arts to marine mammals—if the cause is worthy in his opinion, he will find time, money, or both to support it.

One of his concerns is passing on his legacy of giving to the next generation. At present, he is encouraged by the current level of giving in the country. As for his own children, he says, he has no worries about them not following his example. He and his first wife established a family foundation that is run by their three children. The Acorn Foundation (named after the street they lived on), provides seed money for environmental initiatives. "We meet twice a year to discuss the foundation's operations, and I enjoy watching my children develop into philanthropists themselves." He also recently established another foundation whose main focus is education and helping "people who deserve a break."

Passionate about giving, Bill says he gets "a fuzzy feeling" whenever he gives, be it a gift of time or money. "That is my psychic dividend," he says. "I know this may sound corny," he smiles, "but having earned a degree from Stanford, having survived five beachhead landings on D-Day during the war, and having had a wonderful career make me want to repay my breaks."