Bernie Marcus makes mark with Georgia Aquarium
Home Depot magnate has generous vision of education, downtown revival
By JIM THARPE
Published on: 05/29/05
He was out of work at 49, a billionaire a decade or so later.
A hard-charging visionary, he is accustomed to doing things on a grand scale and getting his way, even when skeptics sneer. And his way, these days, means opening one of the biggest and best-stocked fish tanks on the planet.
Moses parted the sea, but it took a bigger-than-life character like Bernie Marcus to bring the ocean and its creatures to North Georgia.
The 76-year-old Home Depot co-founder is dropping $200 million of his personal fortune on the biggest indoor aquarium in the United States. The Georgia Aquarium, rising like a colossal, landlocked ocean liner in downtown Atlanta near Centennial Olympic Park, is scheduled to open Nov. 23.
"I wanted something unique, something that would last for generations," Marcus said.
People have learned not to doubt the up-from-nothing billionaire, whom nearly everyone calls "Bernie." Three decades back, many retail gurus chuckled as Marcus, Arthur Blank and financier Ken Langone built hardware stores the size of twin football fields, changing the face of retailing.
"Bernie thinks big," said U.S. Sen. Johnny Isakson (R-Ga.), who has known Marcus since the early Home Depot days. "A lot of people think big, but they are just visionaries and not doers. Bernie not only has the vision, he can do the hard work to make the vision become a reality."
Marcus, a trim 6 feet 2 and 180 pounds, exudes the bounce and enthusiasm of a man decades his junior. He lifts light weights. He walks every day. He plays a rotten round of golf (he shoots in the 90s). "I'm never going to be better, and that's the way it is," he says.
He traces his love of aquariums to his globe-trotting Home Depot days. If there were a few hours of downtime, Marcus often would wander the cool, calming hallways of huge fish tanks from Chicago to Monterey Bay to Japan.
He remembers one transcendent moment at a Japanese aquarium with a giant grouper, a fish that most people encounter only at the end of a fork.
"The grouper must have been about 1,000 pounds," Marcus said. "I never saw a fish that big in my life. He just stood there and looked at me. I never realized how ferocious these fish are."
He is quick with a quip and has a warm, grandfatherly disposition that can turn icy when anyone pries too deeply into his still-under-wraps aquarium. Contractors and employees have signed confidentiality agreements. Lawyers have been ordered to keep portions of blueprints filed with the city's Building Department under wraps.
During his Home Depot days, Marcus had a saying: Don't advertise the hammer until the hammer is on the shelf. His approach to the Georgia Aquarium has been much the same. It will combine entertainment, education and research, and it will be huge, and that's about all he'll say.
"It's like a Broadway play opening," Marcus said. "They don't give excerpts to a Broadway play six months in advance. They don't tell you the plot line."
Marcus' largess could have enormous consequences for the region's tourism economy. One study predicts the aquarium and the new World of Coke museum could pump $255 million into state and local tax coffers over 15 years and create as many as 3,300 jobs.
One thing is certain: The sheer heft of the $200 million gift will thrust Marcus' name into the rarified ranks of Atlanta benefactors like Robert Woodruff and Ted Turner.
"I think he's a guy who's truly philanthropic in his heart," Gov. Sonny Perdue said. "It's reflected in many gifts, but certainly this facility."
The Chronicle of Philanthropy earlier this year listed Marcus and his wife, Billi, among the top charitable donors in the nation, based on their funding of the aquarium.
Last week, Marcus beamed when 600 of Atlanta's top business and civil leaders gave him a standing ovation as he accepted the Salvation Army's highest honor, the Others Award, at a posh Buckhead luncheon. The award honors individuals who exemplify an extraordinary spirit of service.
As the applause died down and Marcus stepped to the podium, the scrawny kid from New Jersey was 700 miles, eight decades and a few billion dollars from where his improbable life began.
Home Depot magnate has generous vision of education, downtown revival
By JIM THARPE
Published on: 05/29/05
He was out of work at 49, a billionaire a decade or so later.
A hard-charging visionary, he is accustomed to doing things on a grand scale and getting his way, even when skeptics sneer. And his way, these days, means opening one of the biggest and best-stocked fish tanks on the planet.
Moses parted the sea, but it took a bigger-than-life character like Bernie Marcus to bring the ocean and its creatures to North Georgia.
The 76-year-old Home Depot co-founder is dropping $200 million of his personal fortune on the biggest indoor aquarium in the United States. The Georgia Aquarium, rising like a colossal, landlocked ocean liner in downtown Atlanta near Centennial Olympic Park, is scheduled to open Nov. 23.
"I wanted something unique, something that would last for generations," Marcus said.
People have learned not to doubt the up-from-nothing billionaire, whom nearly everyone calls "Bernie." Three decades back, many retail gurus chuckled as Marcus, Arthur Blank and financier Ken Langone built hardware stores the size of twin football fields, changing the face of retailing.
"Bernie thinks big," said U.S. Sen. Johnny Isakson (R-Ga.), who has known Marcus since the early Home Depot days. "A lot of people think big, but they are just visionaries and not doers. Bernie not only has the vision, he can do the hard work to make the vision become a reality."
Marcus, a trim 6 feet 2 and 180 pounds, exudes the bounce and enthusiasm of a man decades his junior. He lifts light weights. He walks every day. He plays a rotten round of golf (he shoots in the 90s). "I'm never going to be better, and that's the way it is," he says.
He traces his love of aquariums to his globe-trotting Home Depot days. If there were a few hours of downtime, Marcus often would wander the cool, calming hallways of huge fish tanks from Chicago to Monterey Bay to Japan.
He remembers one transcendent moment at a Japanese aquarium with a giant grouper, a fish that most people encounter only at the end of a fork.
"The grouper must have been about 1,000 pounds," Marcus said. "I never saw a fish that big in my life. He just stood there and looked at me. I never realized how ferocious these fish are."
He is quick with a quip and has a warm, grandfatherly disposition that can turn icy when anyone pries too deeply into his still-under-wraps aquarium. Contractors and employees have signed confidentiality agreements. Lawyers have been ordered to keep portions of blueprints filed with the city's Building Department under wraps.
During his Home Depot days, Marcus had a saying: Don't advertise the hammer until the hammer is on the shelf. His approach to the Georgia Aquarium has been much the same. It will combine entertainment, education and research, and it will be huge, and that's about all he'll say.
"It's like a Broadway play opening," Marcus said. "They don't give excerpts to a Broadway play six months in advance. They don't tell you the plot line."
Marcus' largess could have enormous consequences for the region's tourism economy. One study predicts the aquarium and the new World of Coke museum could pump $255 million into state and local tax coffers over 15 years and create as many as 3,300 jobs.
One thing is certain: The sheer heft of the $200 million gift will thrust Marcus' name into the rarified ranks of Atlanta benefactors like Robert Woodruff and Ted Turner.
"I think he's a guy who's truly philanthropic in his heart," Gov. Sonny Perdue said. "It's reflected in many gifts, but certainly this facility."
The Chronicle of Philanthropy earlier this year listed Marcus and his wife, Billi, among the top charitable donors in the nation, based on their funding of the aquarium.
Last week, Marcus beamed when 600 of Atlanta's top business and civil leaders gave him a standing ovation as he accepted the Salvation Army's highest honor, the Others Award, at a posh Buckhead luncheon. The award honors individuals who exemplify an extraordinary spirit of service.
As the applause died down and Marcus stepped to the podium, the scrawny kid from New Jersey was 700 miles, eight decades and a few billion dollars from where his improbable life began.