David N. Myers, 96, is a philanthropist and former owner and president of Consolidated Coatings Corp. in Cleveland. He is the namesake of David N. Myers University, formerly Dyke College, on Prospect Ave. in Cleveland, and was a founder of Hebrew University in Jerusalem and the Albert Einstein College of Medicine of Yeshiva University in New York City. He and his wife, Inez, live in Shaker Heights. They have two sons, 66 and 64, five grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.

David N. Myers' father retired on the young side. He was 85. Myers has different plans.

"I'll be here till they carry me out," he says, his face brightening with a smile. "Here" is his office at the Ohio Savings Building. He takes an expert drag on his cigar, and remembers that his views on retirement once were published in Who's Who in America.

"Want to see it?" he asks.

Myers puts down his cigar, turns slowly in his chair and reaches for the appropriate volume. We leap up to help with the hefty publication, the 1992-'93 edition. Flipping to Myers' entry, we read aloud:

"Retirement at 60 or 65 is folly. Older men are blessed with a perception which allows them, through a recollection of decisions in their past years, to judge things well, whether they be in business or in a profession or in daily life."

He seems to like the quote just fine. "I think I'm the only person with a quotation printed. You know, Shell retires men at 55. A man isn't complete till 55."

At 55, Myers had barely begun passing out his money. And lucky for the world, he won't be done for a while.

"Mrs. Myers and I have a foundation that will go for 50 to 60 years after we're gone," he says with satisfaction. "I got that from my father. He wasn't rich, but he was very generous." (His father founded Menorah Park Center for the Aging in Beachwood.)

So generous, in fact, that the senior Myers sent his son to college even though he needed him as a bookkeeper for his cooperage (barrel) business. Myers held the job from age 15, when he graduated from Cleveland's Central High School, until age 18.

Then his dad said, "You've got to go to college regardless of my books."

Well, says Myers, college tuition was "terrible."

"I picked Dyke College because it was affordable." (In 1995, the 148-year-old business college was renamed for him. "I made lots of contributions," he modestly notes.)

He graduated in 1922, and joined what would become known as Consolidated Coatings Corp., working his way to the presidency and ownership. Along the way, he found Inez, the love of his life. As far as we are concerned, they were meant to be together. There is no other explanation. You'll see.

In 1928, Myers was planning a trip to Europe. "In those days that was a big deal," he says. "Before going, I decided to visit my sister in St. Louis, and while I was there, she set up a blind date for me."

The blind date was - ta da! - the beautiful Inez, a University of Chicago student who also was visiting her sister in St. Louis. "Inez says it was a blind date that turned out to be deaf and dumb, too," Myers says, laughing.

Upon his return from his Grand Tour, he visited Inez in Chicago a few times. And then he told her, "I'm coming back someday to get you." "You'd better," she said, as Myers recalls. They set a June wedding date. - "But by the time March came along, we were really in love. We decided we'd better get married before we did something wrong."

They have lived happily ever after - 67 years so far, 52 of those years in the same Shaker Heights home. Until April, when he broke four bones in a fall, Myers drove himself to his downtown office three days a week. Now a nurse drives him.

"I've had a nurse by my side ever since I fell. A night nurse for 12 hours, a day nurse for 12 hours. I can get up and walk a little bit without my walker, but not when Inez is around. She screams."

A pastel portrait of a stunning Inez sits to the right of his reference books. Myers gestures toward it. "She's still very beautiful."

A moment passes. "I can say today, life was wonderful."

Is.

The above article appears in the December 15, 1996 issue of Sunday The Plain Dealer.
Roadell Hickman: Plain Dealer Photographer
Permission granted 1/8/97.