JACK IN FLORENCE

Jack in his prime, finally taking time out from work in one of his favorite cities

CECIE STARR-CAREY

Jack's seemingly interminable expectations of me finally were met with the eleventh edition of UDL. In its preface, I made note of what he had accomplished:

     Jack Carey, how long ago was it that you signed me to do eighteen books to keep me from writing for anybody else in this lifetime? I never did get around to the other fourteen, but probably you forgive me. Through our long partnership, we helped move textbook publishing in new directions, to the benefit of students around the world. I never would have done it without you, partner.

     We could not know he had only eleven years remaining. In those years he never stopped trying to improve himself as well as push standards forward for science education. We never tired of talking and arguing about everything or giving mutual respect the freedom to expand. Until he moved on to some other place we can only dream of, I had no idea that somewhere along the line we became one, and that half of me was about to be ripped out.

     Toward the end, he was not letting go even though the pain never stopped, even though he was profoundly humiliated by his deterioration and helplessness. Early one morning, when the hospice corridor was still silent, I finally realized my traveling man was waiting for his GPS coordinates. I took his face in my hands and whispered softly, Follow the wind, beloved. Follow the wind through the trees, into the sky, through the clouds—so many beautiful clouds—into the light. Follow the light, my beloved. It will lead you home.

     And he was gone.

JEAN DESAIX

For decades I knew Jack Carey as the “front man” for the Starr textbooks. He was annoying in his persistence but undeniable in his passion. He reminded me of a wandering minstrel showman juggling, doing magic, and spreading news from village to village. Well, Jack juggled schedules, did magic with technology and moved from professor’s door to professor’s door telling each of us what was new in the field. He always had new ideas and knew what was coming in educational technology, possibly because he was the moving force in advancing that new educational technology. His persistence was legendary. On a “snow day” when classes were cancelled and I was home with my children, Jack was in town and asked if he could come by the house and talk with me. (I declined.) If he was half sick with a cold or the flu, he still managed to come by and share what was new, while always picking the brain of everyone he visited. 

It took me years to realize how brilliant Jack was. He was not just another “book salesman” knocking on my door. He was the cauldron where the ideas of many simmered into a fine stew which he would serve up in time. He was such a thinker, but still, his persistence and his absolute single-minded focus about what was going to make a biology course better could make him a pain in the neck. 

Then, I went to a focus group in California and met Cecie whom I had admired from a distance for many decades. I believed (and still do) that she and Neil Campbell were the best writers in the textbook industry. Not only was I thrilled to meet Cecie, but at the same time I met a new Jack Carey. He was not a roaring lion. Instead of going a million miles an hour, he moved at a gentle, considerate pace, shining love for Cecie like a super-nova. I suddenly adored this man. 

Peter (my husband) and I became friends with Jack and Cecie. They were so good to us, showing us their favorite wineries and sharing so much with us. Jack’s was the first car we rode in that had GPS (of course it would be Jack with the newest technology). We loved it that the woman behind the GPS voice had been named by them, Genevieve, and that Cecie considered her “a slut” because she was forever “leading Jack astray.” That was, for us, just a single vignette that demonstrated something we loved about Jack and Cecie: their generosity, their love, showing us around the things they loved, the new technology which Jack proudly showed off, and the humor that was backed by love in their back and forth. 

Jack was a wonderful person to talk with about new ideas, broad and deep ideas from the major milestones in the advancement of science to the meaning of life and thoughts about death. I do remember his passionately expressed hope that he would not outlive Cecie because he was quite sure he could not live without her. Cecie has given so much and endured so much in love and she now is enduring the granting of that fervent wish of Jack’s. May the love of those who loved Jack and those who love Cecie make that pain easier to bear.

CECIE STARR-CAREY

Jack near the end, happily in control of multiple devices as well as his wife.

JACK THORNTON

Jack Compton Carey (JCC as I sometimes called him) remembered . . .

in a word . . . driven . . . constantly moving forward toward perfection . . . He carried that trait throughout his publishing career. Perfecting every book he signed and published. He was a unique and wildly successful editor and publisher. It was a privilege to work with him and have him as a colleague and friend. Jack did have some quirky traits that also set him apart from the crowd.I remember one early morning in Davis, CA. Jack and I were sharing a room in a motel close to the UC Davis campus. Jack was there to sign an author and I was working with him. In the early days of Wadsworth, it was customary for editors to share a room when on a school visit . . . frugality was the standard operating procedure to save T & E money . . . and protect Profit Sharing.

I was awakened about 6am by a noise that sounded like the football team was running down the hallway. When I opened my eyes, I see Jack C. standing at the foot of his bed running in place at a very rapid pace. When I was finally able to comprehend what all the noise was about, I asked him just what in the world was he doing? He said since it was still dark outside, he was running in place for about 15 minutes to get exercise! I suggested he should wait until it was light and go outside to do that while I was trying to sleep.

Another story about Jack that I will never forget revolves around his quest for perfection. In the early days, since we all traveled as editors across the country and usually for extended periods of time, packing a suitcase became routine for two or three week trips. Jack was a master at planning for such a trip. This skill was continually honed to a point where he would be able to leave the office after the January sales meeting and be on the road selling books and signing authors for several months before returning to Belmont. But in the late 1960’s, Jack was determined to find the “best” suitcase for his travel needs. To solve that question, he gathered up several paper bags of his clothes and went to the Macys store in Hillsdale Shopping Center. Once in the luggage department, he selected several suitcases and started to pack each one with his socks, shorts, T-shirts, dress shirts, trousers, coat, toiletry kit, etc. , items he would normally need for his trips. When he left the store, he knew precisely which suitcase would be “best” in all aspects . . . size, weight, dimensions and could hold the most items comfortably and with the least amount of wrinkling. As I recall, “Tumi” won the day. I soon learned that Jack researched just about everything . . . when I was interested in a Sound system, I went to Jack for his suggestions. He knew the best Speakers to buy . . . he knew the best laundry soap to buy . . . It was like having your own “Consumer Reports” lab in your office building.

Recalling these stories may be amusing but they really point out the tremendous drive for perfection that Jack had and how he focused that energy on his editorial work and the development of his authors. He was one of a kind. His editorial work contributed greatly to Wadsworth’s success and reputation. Thank you Jack for so many years of excellence and for making such a positive impact on our company.            

Rest in Peace JCC.     

We will miss you.                             

Jack Thornton

STEVE RUTTER

I'd like to share one of the early stories about Jack when he was the Wadsworth sales rep in Washington and Oregon. He was trying hard to see a key decision maker on some big adoption, but that professor was about to leave town for his family's summer vacation. Jack found out where he lived and, on a Saturday, went in hopes of seeing him. He found the professor packing the family RV, about ready to leave town. Jack persuaded him not just to stay and hear him out but also to delay his vacation and call together the adoption committee so they could vote in support of Jack's book.

     After the vote, the professor wrote a letter (either to Harold Parnes or to Jim Leisy) extolling Jack's virtues—in particular, Jack's unswerving devotion to the ideals of a quality education for the undergraduates involved. That's the Jack who always won me over, every time, all those many years ago. It's the Jack I now remember with all my heart.

     Cecie, your eulogy to Jack, his struggle to achieve life itself from the very beginning, moved me greatly. And it reminded me of your own struggle to break into book publishing, first at CRM, then at Wadsworth. You and Jack were remarkable fighters together, struggling to become the best against plenty of obstacles. What a testament to the depth and strength of your relationship. We all yearn to love and be loved. You and Jack found that with each other in a way that must have been deep and abiding. I hope that the sure and certain memory of your love will nourish you for the rest of your days.

PHOTO

Jack at Becky Hayden's birthday party.

BECKY HAYDEN

What with not seeing Jack for the past five years and learning so much about Jack I didn’t know from your remarks, it seems Jack if still with us. I was delightfully surprised, for instance, to discover that Jack’s preferred type face — Palatino — is also mine, but for different reasons: his, because it gets more characters per line and takes fewer pages than most other types; mine, because of its clean-cut beauty. We would have enjoyed sharing “Palatino” had we known of this preference. Another commonality: Jack and I were both persistent critters, but Jack won the prize for all times. Yet he never used that force on me; we cordially accepted our different approaches to publishing and life. 

Bravo, Jack, you’re unforgettable! 

CECIE STARR-CAREY

Jack taught me so much about biology education. More than this, he taught me about myself. I had grown up terrorized by a father who was Old World Italian, poor, and abusive, but I was privileged to have attended a charter high school that welcomed less fortunate students. Teachers and student advisers saw something in me and taught me well. They must have figured out my awful  circumstances, because they worked behind the scenes to secure a scholarship offer from Stanford University. I still remember asking my father for permission to accept the offer and hearing his reply: “Italian girls don’t go to college. They get married and have babies.” 

     In my first act of defiance, I attended a local college without his knowledge and was in my junior year before he found out and ended it.
     By the 1980s I was sitting in the Caltech office of one of my distinguished advisers in molecular biology and plant physiology. John Bonner had studied under and worked with Theodosius Dobzhansky, Thomas Morgan, Frits Went, and other pioneers, yet here he was, listening to me whine that 
I should have been a Stanford-trained researcher instead of a charlatan who had not even finished college. He looked at me thoughtfully, then replied that he was glad I didn't become a researcher because there were already too many of them. He was more concerned about research splintering in so many directions after the discovery of DNA’s structure and function. Specialists were not keeping up with investigative reports on even a single topic in a single narrow field of interest. 
     Authors in introductory biology were similarly overwhelmed and their books reflected it. Jack knew this and had encouraged me to dismantle and rewrite the Starr books around the predictive power of the new discovery. To wit, no matter how narrow the research focus at any level of life’s organization, no matter how many details were accumulating, scientific experiments were revealing the mechanisms by which all living things became and remain interconnected. The experiments have yet to disprove this premise: Life’s immense diversity evolved along continuums from an underlying unity at the molecular level.
     As an adviser, Dr Bonner had been tracking my attempts to counter the compartmentalization of knowledge. "Cecie," he said. "Don’t ever apologize for who you are. You are the last generalist."
      He had not identified me. He had identified the master who had assembled a team of brilliant and dedicated advisers and contributors, hundreds of reviewers, an OCD scribbler, and all the gifted employees and resources Wadsworth could offer for the challenge. It was not just that Jack was a hard-hitting publisher. He never doubted that I could be part of this. He never doubted the wisdom of giving students the gift of a potentially life-changing message, of helping me help them make sense of the natural world and their place in it.

     He was the last generalist.

Jack at the time the first Starr book was being written.

PHOTO

Production/Acquisition Retreat, Timber Cove Inn.

CECIE STARR-CAREY

Jack first heard about me at the University of Nebraska­-Lincoln, when he and a biology professor who had been reviewing my work for years were reflecting on the impending breakup of CRM Books, an over­-the-­top experiment in textbook publishing. Random House and other publishers were circling like sharks, and Jack was assessing whether it would be in Wadsworth’s interest to join the hunt. 

You don’t need CRM, he was told. “Just get Cecie Starr.” 

CRM had no internal walls compartmentalizing its creative staff. We all hit the ground running, hard, and were expected to become proficient IMMEDIATELY in editorial, design, production, marketing, publishing, and sales. The best among them trained me and reinforced not only my work ethic but also my sense of honor and integrity; and in those bedrock values, Wadsworth came across as singularly bright and shining. 

Against strong pushback, Dick Greenberg listened to Jack and McD. He carved out an in­-house niche for me, at first no more than a typewriter on a flimsy metal stand in an upstairs hall at 10 Davis Drive. In six months we put together the first, forgettable edition of UDL. But then we started to create our ground-­breaking innovations, together. Not knowing that being involved in everything was a wild exception rather than the rule in publishing, I was running back and forth all over everybody’s turf and was sometimes hugely resented for it. Exasperated, Dick finally announced, “Give her what she wants, she’s going to get it anyway."

They gave me Gary Head, who became my codesigner, my in-­house partner, my shrink. Gary is so modest, to this day not many of you know how integral he was to the evolving success of the Starr franchise. For four months every year, Jack would travel and listen to what professors wanted. He would come back home with his wishlist, knowing that Gary and I would somehow turn it into a responsive product. Topic spreads and other innovations to make each major concept as accessible as possible? Sure. Complex biological processes explained through nonthreatening, deceptively simple step­-by-­step illustrations? No problem, all in a day’s work. The most informative as well as staggeringly beautiful photographs in the world? We will find them!

Just kidding. Jack always came back asking for the moon, the stars, the Milky Way, Andromeda. Shouts, slamming doors, stomping and fuming. And Gary, my Rock of Reason, calmly listening, sitting side by side with me at our computers, quietly helping me burn off steam and get to it and give Jack what he wanted.

JOHN WARD

I wanted to add one more thing about Jack and the impact he had on publishing. Oftentimes you hear it said of someone that he or she is “ahead of their times.”  But in the publishing world that only means that you had the misfortune to release something that no one in the market is ready for. Jack’s genius is that he always released new innovations—particularly in technology—at the precise moment the market was ready for them. The biology student CD-ROM that Gary Whalen wrote about is a great example. We had it in our book bags right when the market indicated that most students had access to a computer with a CD-ROM drive and were interested in using that sort of media for tutorial. A year or two later Jack came up with the BioLink instructor’s media presentation tool which, revolutionary though it was, arrived at the very moment that a huge number of instructors were looking to move away from using slide shows and overhead transparencies. Not only does that demonstrate the innate feel that Jack had for market conditions, it is also testament to his hands-on market research and his willingness to get out and talk to biology instructors about what they needed for their course.

Regards,
John

GARY HEAD

I first met Jack when I was a staff designer at Wadsworth in the early 1970s. I was pleased to be assigned his books because they were the books that usually had the best authors, the biggest budgets, and were printed on the best paper—thanks to Jack. His books were also the ones that usually sold the most copies. The only downside was that I had to use Palatino, Jack’s favorite typeface because of its high character count that would make the book shorter. A small price to pay.

In later years, as a freelancer, I again worked on many of Jack's books. They continued to be written by the best authors, having the bigger production budgets, and were printed on better paper. They were also even more successful. Of course, I still had to use Palatino!

Also, Jack had an ongoing fascination with photography and cameras. From time to time Jack and I would discuss cameras. Jack was always searching for “best” camera, but it had to be small since he traveled so much. He read review after review in search of the perfect camera. He finally settled on a Nikon, but he had memorized the specs for most of the other cameras in the world! After we both retired we decided to go out and take photos together. Our first trip was to Half Moon Bay and the second trip was to Stanford University. The trouble was that since we had such a shared history in publishing, we spent both days driving around talking about the early days at Wadsworth, people we had almost forgotten, and the books we had worked on together. I only took a few shots and I’m not sure that Jack ever turned his camera on! I enjoyed both days and had hopes that we would one day be able to “shoot” together again. 

Jack, rest in peace.

Gary

RICH JONES

My favorite memory of Jack is when he and I moved into new adjoining offices in the newly completed North Wing of 10 Davis Drive. He wanted, and obtained, the office furthest away from everyone else. He wanted peace and quiet. But he hated the hollow-core door to his office. He looked around and found a solid-core door—to the Board of Directors meeting room in a different wing. So one weekend when I was working there, he switched doors. Just popped them off their hinges, and carried them to where he wanted them. I bet the Board never noticed the difference . . . but Jack sure did. He was a very determined guy, wasn't he?

When I started Scott/Jones Publishing in 1988, one of my investing angels was Jim Leisy, Sr. Jim said he would refer to Jack as "my favorite problem" . . . "problem" because of his battles with production/Bob Sass; "favorite" because he was always making good books happen. 

My life is better for knowing him and Cecie.

Respectfully,
Rich Jones

MARK FRANCISCO

I didn't really connect with Jack until 1981 when he flew into Nashville to work several schools gearing up to sell the second edition of UDL2. Up to this point, Jack was the Crazy Horse editor I'd seen and heard at NSMs presenting textbooks with lackluster sales until the Miller LITE blockbuster. So, hoping to repeat this feat, Jack published a bigger and badder revision of UDL1 and was armed and ready to rumble on a cold Monday morning in January at MTSU with 2000 copies in his sights. Up to this point, I'd worked with a handful of editors including Ken, McD, and Gormley but none as single-minded as Jack. This was Jack's WWII D-Day Omaha beach landing and I was his platoon commander doing logistics and reconniassance for each visit; he loved it when you provided him meaningful bread crumbs, making his pathway more exacting. We were a tag team, crusaders genuflecting every prof we met like medieval knights calling on academic nobility. I loved how Jack ingratiated himself with each bioperson calculating yeas and nays as we huddled in hallways and stairways treking our way yet another office, back and forth, in and out, nonstop—a body in rest stays in rest, a body in motion stays in motion—Jack was an information jeteye, detecting and recording everything; his memory shorthand was phenomenal! 

For the next decade, the script was the same, divide and conquer with precision and impeccable accuracy every open non-major biology adoption in Tennessee and Kentucky. He made scores of friends and fans, including me, loved the South, and when I told his biomass he was coming back, they couldn't wait, lunches became the norm. Jack was the ultimate chameleon and gentle soul among these folks, there was mutual respect, hard won and kept. My people were always impressed when an editor from a distant publishing house would make the journey to their place and Jack reveled in their adulation and admiration while earning capital. 

What a combo, Jack and Cecie, arguably the best editor/author duo in the business, nothing like before or after, truly a model of professional humanity. 

Let's play the Fallen Soldier Bagpipe Tribute to Jack:

"Going home, going home,

I'm just going home. 

Quiet-like, slip away-

I'll be going home."

Mark

PEGGY HOPP

I was unable to locate our correspondence, but the gist of it was that Jack covered Western Washington University in Bellingham as a rep. I grew up in Bellingham and my mother got her Teaching Certificate at WWU during WWII when all the men were away. As Big Al would have said, "The Big One". We made plans to try to get together. Unfortunately, I had no idea he was ill, and I am very sorry that never happened. 

Rest in Peace, Jack. 

You were a very succesful publisher, a good father, husband, and man. 

Peggy

MICHELLE JULET

I was Jack Carey's boss for ten years before he retired. Working with a legend with so many years of wisdom was an honor and a challenge. Jack characteristically questioned and pushed the boundaries to make everything and everyone the best they could be—including me.

He lived his life with great passion, committed to his mission—but he also had a way of seeing and understanding people. Sometimes he connected, and sometimes he did not, but he always knew what made every single person tick—which was one of the many reasons he was so successful.

New employees were often intimidated by Jack, but he drew the very good ones out, and kept them on his team—and they were very loyal to him.  He went to the new editors to learn about their markets and knew instantly the ones who would make a mark.

Cecie called us "Spencer and Tracy” because of the tension and creative banter, but it was not quite like that.  We—including my husband and family—loved Jack and Cecie. Cecie—the hippest grandmother I knew—shopped for all the baby stuff we needed the weekend before our adopted daughter Jasmine came home. Later, as Jasmine learned to recite the alphabet, it became “A, B, Cecie, E, F. . . !”  (Not sure what happened to D)

Jack just smiled.

Ironically, so many people knew Jack because of his career, but it was Jack who taught me it is not all about that—it is about who you love and who loves you.

Rest in Peace, Jack Carey.

SUSAN BADGER

There is so much one can say about Jack, one of the truly great visionary editors in the higher ed market.  I am honored to have worked with him, learned from him, and enjoyed him (and Cecie) as friends.

He was an essential partner in the re-awakening of Wadsworth as a market leader and innovator, starting during the late 90s and coming to an end after 2007. Although the most experienced among the editorial team members, he was never reluctant to change and grow; in fact, he was always the first to take hold of a new idea if he saw that it might resonate with customers and provide us with a competitive advantage.

After I left Thomson, Jack and I kept in touch for many years. He made me feel good by comparing me to Jim Leisy---one of my publishing heroes as well, long before coming to Wadsworth. And I felt compelled to convey some of my thoughts about his "secret sauce" while he was still fully able to appreciate it.

Attached below is a snippet from my email correspondence with Jack—and I would write the same thing today.

Here's what I think was your secret of success, or one of them: you not only knew that you were a better editor and innovator because of the time you spent with customers. You also lived it, and didn't assume, as many did, that some early time invested in the field would carry them throughout their career. You always knew it was a dynamic, changing environment and you were always ready to learn something new. As much as you already knew, you were always open to new ideas. I have often said this about you, but perhaps never said it to you. Kudos and thanks.

Best,
Susan

Jack's legacy and example will live forever. You are always with us in our thoughts, Jack—especially when we listen to Sinatra.

JAMES MCDANIEL

A few notes on remembering Jack…

The two times I visited with Cecie and Jack over the past two years I was taken by how rapidly he was deteriorating. And he knew it as well . . .

 Going back to our Wadsworth years, I would say fifteen of my twenty years were spent with me as Managing Editor and Executive Editor working with Jack and my other editors. And I would estimate that I spent twenty-five percent of my time dealing with him and his problems. Did I enjoy him . . . yes I did . . . and did I find him a pain in the ass . . . yes I did. I was constantly putting out fires that Jack started. When he had a project come in-house for production is when it got the roughest. He would try and get it moved to the front of the line . . . he would work on Bill Ralph to see if he could get it moved ahead in the printing process . . . he’d try and get the artist he wanted to place his project ahead of wherever it fell . . . and, like most field editors, he’d mainly side with his authors when problems occurred during the editing and page layout process. And it would go on through the advertising and promotion process and Jack’s presentation to the sales staff of the published book. Jack spent a major amount of his time (especially January through June) in the field after the publication of G. Tyler Miller’s Living in the Environment. And on every campus he visited, after first checking with the field rep, he’d check to see if they had a course where the environment would fit. If they didn’t have a course yet, he’d begin in biology, asking questions, starting with the head of the department, regarding which prof was most inclined to want to teach such a course. And if no one prof stood out, he ask if there were any profs from other departments that would be interested. One way or another he was able to locate the right person . . . then pitching them Miller’s book was a shoe-in. 

 Then came Cecie Starr. I can’t remember when, or from who, I first heard of her but her writing ability came shining through from the stuff she’d written with Psychology Today. And I encouraged Jack to go sign her up for any and everything. He ended up bringing her up to the office and I was involved in her signing. But Jack pretty well had her softened and ready to sign. And then, he had the good fortune of marrying her . . . 

 We spent a lot of hours chatting . . . both during normal business hours and after them. And most of it was about publishing. Fortunately, I enjoyed it almost as much as Jack. I must say, I miss those conversations, even today. You are missed Jackson . . .

JOHN WARD

I moved from a marketing position at PWS to a field sales position in the Western Los Angeles/Long Beach hardside territory in March 1996.  Since I had only worked in mathematics and engineering, the biology list and market were big mysteries to me.  One Sunday evening shortly after I had arrived in Los Angeles, Jack called me at home and proceeded to spend the next 100 minutes going over the biology list and the adoption history and key decision makers at all my schools.  I was amazed at the depth of his memory and knowledge, knowing that Jack no doubt possessed this level of detail for every single hardside territory.  I was also a bit alarmed that this guy thought nothing of taking up the heart of my Sunday evening to talk shop.  As we wound down our conversation I puckishly said to him, “Happy Easter, Jack,” because, yes, this was Easter Sunday.  Probably no one who knows him will be surprised that Jack’s response was a puzzled, “Oh, is today Easter?”

That fall Jack came down to work the Southern California schools.  I was somewhat worried because I had been assigned to work with him on a Friday, and college professors in Los Angeles are notoriously hard to find on the last day of the work week.  UCLA had been using Starr/Taggart off and on but the current professor had switched to Campbell, and Jack wanted to make sure that we got them back in our camp.  We went to see the professor teaching the course that fall and she assured Jack that her apostasy had nothing to do with dissatisfaction with Starr, she had just wanted to give Campbell a try.  She also gave us a heads-up on which one of her colleagues had been assigned to teach the course that winter, so we set out to find him. 

As everyone who worked campus with him knows, Jack didn’t believe in going to office hours: he always thought the best way to see someone was to track them down in their classroom.  We found where the winter instructor was teaching and walked up to the front of the lecture hall as his class ended.  Jack introduced us, explained the reason for our visit, and asked if we could sit down with him to discuss Starr/Taggart.  The instructor explained that he had a number of commitments that afternoon and would not be available until 7:00 pm, after he played in his weekly intramural soccer match.  I felt my heart sink when Jack quickly made the appointment to meet the instructor in his office at 7:00 pm – I was in my mid-20s and had an infinite number of other ways I would rather spend a Friday night.  After killing the rest of the afternoon at Santa Monica College and miraculously finding a biology instructor there to talk to, we headed back to UCLA to make the 7:00 pm sales call and that winter the UCLA introductory biology course used Starr/Taggart.  A week later I put on a necktie to made an 8:00 am Saturday sales call at El Camino College to close the guy who taught the Saturday morning biology section, because I knew that’s what Jack would do.

After seeing him in action, every time I sold biology I tried to replicate exactly how Jack presented in his sales calls.  I used the same hand-outs that he used (and so thoughtfully provided for us), showed the same examples of artwork that he showed and did my best to repeat word-for-word what he said in describing the awesomeness of the book.  Thanks to Jack’s expert tutelage I became pretty proficient in selling biology, especially as technology and media became such important factors in adoption decisions. 

A year or so after our Friday night UCLA escapade, Jack was planning another Southern California sales swing at our January NSM.  As he was trying to figure out how to allocate his precious time among the half-dozen reps in the region, an opportunity at one of my schools came up.  Jack looked at our sales manager and said, “That’s John’s school, right?  He has a good handle on selling biology; he doesn’t need my help.”  It was the greatest compliment I ever received in my publishing career.

My condolences to everyone who admired and loved him.

G. TYLER MILLER, AUTHOR

THINGS I ADMIRE ABOUT MY BEST FRIEND JACK CAREY

 Jack Carey was an amazing person with many wonderful qualities. I admire his:

•  Ethics. He fought hard for what he believed was right and fought hard against what the believed was wrong. And he never gave up.

• Critical thinking ability. He had the ability to analyze problems and come up with solutions. 

• Persistence. He never gave up. I remember his fights with the design department over the design of my textbooks. We wanted a clean simple design but they kept wanting to add design features that got in the way of educational function. He fought them so hard that they banned him from coming to their floor. After that they left us alone. 

• Dedication to data and information. He provided his authors with feedback from many reviewers. I benefitted from inputs by several hundred reviewers of my books. 

• Curiosity. He wanted to learn and discuss new ideas. Over the years we had marvelous discussions about ethics, life, death, health, politics, greed, and the book publishing business. 

• Dedication to friends and family. I was fortunate to have him as my best friend for over 40 years—an incredibly rare gift. He always spoke with love about his children and about Cecie—the love of his life. 

 Jack: Thank you for enriching my life.

GARY WHALEN, CENGAGE LEARNING

I first met Jack over 20 years ago.  Once upon a time he asked me to join him in his biology presentations at our January national sales meeting. He told me he liked my style of showing software, and he had a new biology CD-ROM he wanted to show. I told him I would. Little did I know . . . Weeks prior to the sales meeting he would call to discuss what we’d do and how I would organize my part of the presentation. I explained everything, at least I thought I did. But days later he’d call back and want to discuss it again. He even called me late afternoon on Christmas Eve to go over things one more time. But I didn’t mind. That was Jack.

Around the time he retired he and I had a nice chat at the Belmont, CA office. He wished me well and gave me some advice that I never forgot and have always adhered to: He looked me in the eye (as only Jack could look you in the eye) and told me, “Be really knowledgeable about one thing.” Know more about it than anyone else. Be the best at it.

Jack was one of the best at what he did.  

RIP, Jack.

My best,

Gary Whalen

PEGGY HOPP

Cecie: 

I am so sorry for your loss of the love of your life. I never knew any of this stuff about Jack because I only really knew the driven work Jack until Al Hansen's passing. After I wrote my memories of Al, Jack sent me an email to personally thank me, because he loved Big Al as much as I did. So, we began a short correspondence where we both learned more about each other. I am in the process of digging up those old emails and will post them when I can. I did see him cut a rug on occasion, so I know he was a good dancer. And I have one funny story to relate. My department always worked Starr/Taggart rollovers to new editions. We kept a good supply on hand and inventoried them to make sure we had enough. A personal letter with a book enclosed goes a long way to secure an adoption. Well, we would come in on a Monday and our entire inventory would be gone. Now, who would take them? Could it be Jack Carey? So, I started hiding the books and you had to go through me to get them. Jack sidled up to me one day and asked if I had any Starr/Taggarts. I said, "Well, I do, Jack, but I'm going to have to ask you to go down the hall by Shirley's desk and I'll bring it to you, because someone was taking them from us without signing them out so we could reorder". He laughed and said "You're a smart girl." Then he went down the hall and I took him the book. It turns out Jack and I have a few things in common, as you'll see when I post our correspondence. And, from reading your loving tribute, I see that he picked strawberries for a jelly factory. I did too, but I think I ate more than my fair share. When we lived in Bellingham, my mom would put my sister and me on a bus with a sack lunch to the strawberry fields. One summer my very industrious sister made $20. Me? $11. $.25 per crate we were paid. I wish I had gotten to know Jack better when we worked together, and I'm glad I got a glimpse of the real Jack. My thoughts are with you at this very painful time. 


Sincerely, 
Peggy Hopp

SERINA BEAUPARLANT

Poem in Memory of Jack Carey

Relentless pursuit, laserbeam-focus, pure, raw drive, guts, audacity charm, breadcrumbs subsistence, standing on Jack Carey's shoulders as we drive, wild abandoned, alone, across the black empty night of Mississippi, magic book in suitcase, take no prisoners at dawn.

MELINDA DUTTON, CENGAGE LEARNING

I met Jack in 1998 as a new rep for International Thomson Publishing, representing the Wadsworth biology and environmental science lists. I soon learned that Jack was a force of nature. Working campus with him was like running a marathon. He never stopped for lunch. He carried granola bars in his bag. He told me “if you don’t stop for lunch, think of all the profs you can see while your competitors are eating!” We went on a sales blitz one spring – 5 campuses in 3 days, and came away with 5 takeaway adoptions. It was easiest to introduce him (if the prof hadn’t already met him) and then just cut him loose. His questioning skills were amazing. He knew all the current research, but most of all, he knew what professors wanted and needed, and he gave it to them! He was the first to offer transparencies, the first to do the Instructor CD-rom. He was relentless. I always learned something when I worked with Jack, and I still use those questions today. RIP Jack Carey. You were one of a kind.

TOM ORSI

I was saddened when I woke up this morning and learned of Jack’s passing, and I have naturally spent much of the day reflecting on my memories of Jack. I have many, but I’ll share two. One reflects Jack’s drive and intensity as he crusaded for his products, and the other reflects just how good his products were based on the creativity that he brought to the process.

The first memory came from my days as a sales manager in the South. One year I spent a lot of time in the spring working the Florida territory, because it had very early decisions, and the rep needed help.  I spent one week in Gainesville, working at the University of Florida. This was before email, voice mail, and cell phones. I returned to my hotel late one night, and the message light was flashing. It was a message to call Jack at ANY hour so he could give me my marching orders for my visit to the Biology Department. Jack knew EVERYONE, and had a strategy for each person. I decided it was too late to call (for ME, not necessarily for Jack, who was in Southern California that week), and that I would call him in the morning. I left for campus early (at about 7) so I could gather some information. I waited until 9:00, thinking that I didn’t need to call Jack before 6 his time. When I called, Jack picked up the phone, sounding groggy because I had awakened him. Since Jack had a reputation for calling people at strange hours, waking them up, I was THRILLED that I would have a story to tell people about waking Jack up. I took my marching orders (which were spot on) and completed my calls for the day.  When I returned to the hotel there was a message waiting for me. Jack had called at 7:15

 that morning (his time), after I left. I may have wakened him at 6, but it was only because he had dozed off after trying to reach me.

The second memory is from years later. I was no longer in sales. I was in Information Systems.  I was at the National Sales Meeting and decided to sit in on a product presentation. Naturally I chose Jack’s because I could always learn something from him. It had been years since I had been on a sales call, but after Jack’s presentation that day I was convinced I could easily do two things.  First, I could go on campus and sell the package he presented. It had EVERYTHING, and much of what it had was new to the market. Second, and even more remarkable, I was convinced I could go on campus and teach a General Biology course with his package even though it had been at least 35 years since I last studied Biology.  

Jack was quite a publisher. He left his imprint on everything and everybody. I was sorry when he retired, and now I’m sorry that we have lost him.

Photo of the General who gave me my marching orders in Florida.

CHARLIE DELMAR

I well remember that fateful day when Jack signed Ty Miller to his first book. Pete Cokinos and I were enjoying a well deserved holiday on Rehoboth Beach when I received an urgent call from my land lady telling me to call Jack in the office. When I called, his EA told me Jack was on his way to North Carolina to sign an author and that I needed to meet him at the airport the following morning. Knowing that the "Prime Directive" at Wadsworth was that signing an author took priority over everything else, I canceled my holiday and drove home. When I met Jack at the airport, he had a bad case of hives (from some strawberries he had eaten, I believe) and was as miserable as any human I had ever seen. He had to take his shirt off as we drove the 100 miles to Saint Andrews Presbyterian College, a school I had never heard of, let alone visited. When we arrived, Jack was able to put his shirt on, but he fidgeted and scratched the entire time he tried to convince Ty to sign with Wadsworth, a publisher he did not know, that had virtually no textbooks in his field, but did have the strangest acting editor (as well as the most perplexed sales representative) he had ever seen. After a couple of hours, though, Jack was able to convince Ty that Wadsworth was the right publisher for him, or maybe he just wanted to get us out of his office so he could have some peace. Whichever, Jack "closed the sale" and the rest is history. That was probably the strangest (and most successful) book signing in Jack's colorful history.


Thanks, Jack, for that day and for your friendship.


Charlie Delmar 

PAT VAUK, CENGAGE LEARNING

I worked with Jack a few times when he came out to Minnesota to work with me.

The first time I worked with him I was pregnant.  Jack so was nice.  He kept telling me to go sit down on the bench, and he would go make calls.

The 2^nd time I worked with him it was either February or March..in Minnesota.  Jack only wore a trench coat, ( I guess packing a coat took up too much room!)  and he never ate lunch. I remember that he stayed in the car with it running when I ran into a bagel shop to grab some food.  I swear he ran on adrenaline.  He was so passionate about Cecie’s book, and wanted to share it with the world.

He will be missed!! He was such a character, and so devoted to his craft.

G. TYLER MILLER, AUTHOR

Jack Carey: My Longest And Best Friend   3/4/16


I met Jack Carey in 1969. I had written a book on Chemistry, Energy, and the Environment and had sent it out to a number of publishers. Most wanted to publish it. I got a phone call from Jack Carey saying that he wanted to visit me at a rural college in North Carolina where I was teaching and talk to me about publishing my book with Wadsworth Publishing Company, which I had never heard of.Jack: As I write these words, I have tears of sadness. But I also have tears of joy over our rare and incredible friendship. If there is an afterlife and we meet again, I am sure you will have an idea for another book and we will be off and running again.

He arrived, sick as a dog, and persuaded me to publish my book with Wadsworth with him as editor. That was the beginning of more than 40 years of friendship and working together that has resulted in me writing and the company publishing 65 college textbooks (including multiple editions) most  of them introductory textbooks on environmental science. It changed his life and my life and together we changed the world and developed a wonderful lifelong friendship. 

Jack and I are intensely passionate about what we do. He was dedicated to publishing  outstanding textbooks and I wanted to write them. In the early 1970s the first environmental science courses were being taught. But no one had figured out what instructors wanted in an environmental science textbook.

In true form, Jack sent out questionnaires to all of the environmental instructors he could find. Then we spent 2 days in a hotel room going over hundreds of responses. Because environmental science is an interdisciplinary field that combines chemistry, biology, physics, economics, politics and ethics, we learned that teachers wanted us to include every thing in an environmental science textbook. To solve this problem, we came up with the idea of having a core of chapters presenting the scientific essentials that allowed instructors to use any of the book’s chapters in essentially any order.

In 1975, the first edition of Living in the Environment was published and immediately took over the marketplace. From then on I have wanted to change the world by educating people about how the earth works, how we are degrading our own life-support system, and how we can live more sustainably, Since then that book and 2 smaller versions of it have been the most widely used introductory environmental science textbooks in the United States and the world. In October 2016, the 19th edition of Living in the Environment will be published.

Every time I finished a book Jack had an idea for another type of book. Jack is an incredibly persuasive and persistent person. Sometimes I gave him various reasons for not doing a book and he would respond with 20 reasons why I should. Then the next day he would call me and say something like: “Here is the 24th reason why you should write this book” and I ended up writing the book.

Here is something you may not know about Jack. He invented the modern pull along behind you suitcase. He was on the road selling books several months a year and wanted the perfect traveling suitcase. Over the years I watched as he had someone build him increasingly better versions of a compact small mobile suitcase. I guess he should have patented it. An airline pilot saw him rolling his suitcase toward a plane and copied it, patented it, and probably made millions. 

Over the years, I got to know and follow the lives of his two wonderful children. I also got to know Cecie, a wonderful wife and companion and an incredibly talented writer of biology textbooks (I have always wanted to write half as well as she does.). 

I love you,

— Ty

CECIE STARR-CAREY

Jack as a young Acquisitions Editor in the office of Wadsworth Publishing Company, Belmont. 1971

JACK COMPTON CAREY

1939–2016

On March 12, after enduring for three years the insults of an incurable and progressively devastating disease, Jack died in my arms. Everyone who knew him seems to have a Jack Carey story to tell. This is mine. 
— Cecie Starr-Carey

Jack started life being one of a kind and stayed that way for seventy-six years. His dad kept his mom with him as he drove around Oregon selling insurance to farmers out in the fields. She bounced too much over too many rough country roads while pregnant, and on July 7, 1939, she gave birth a month ahead of schedule. Her infant Jack weighed three pounds. Back then, there were no intensive care units, but every hour on the hour, family and friends were there to feed him an ounce of milk through a medicine dropper. Against all odds, in what must have been the first test of his willpower, he made it.

What a family he was born into, one that manifested independent thinking in so many diverse ways. His paternal grandfather Clarence had been a cowhand on the largest ranch in America, one that stretched across Oregon, Utah, and Nevada. He sent his son and daughter off on horses to a little schoolhouse ten miles away and built them a halfway shack to live in during winter, when snow made it harder to get to school on time. Jack’s maternal grandfather James dated Bess Walker, who decided instead to marry Harry Truman, who became the thirty-third President of the United States. James spent the next four years getting degrees in math, chemistry, and physics from the Missouri School of Mines, now the University of Missouri. One afternoon he, the starting quarterback for the football team, laughed at a girl (a girl!) throwing a baseball in front of her sorority house. She furiously took aim and threw it hard enough to knock him down. Smitten, he married her and in time she became Jack’s maternal grandmother. Then there were the infamous fourth cousins, Frank and Jesse James. And world-famous cousins, the Wright Brothers.

By his teens, Jack was happy, popular, and honing the jaw-dropping determination that would make him a legend in publishing. No one sport would do. He had to compete in basketball. In baseball. In track. In cross country. He had to become a tennis champion. Every summer he did what most kids in McMinnville did, hopped on a bus before dawn and headed out to pick strawberries on the vast Willamette Valley farms. It became exceedingly necessary for him to pick more strawberries than anybody else, and by day’s end he alone would be at the far end of the field.

He got it into his head that he wanted to become a doctor, which led from his laidback home town to Dartmouth, where he suddenly found himself competing against New York boys who had been training to become doctors since preschool. He had to study five times as hard to get the same grades. Was he up to it? Of course he was. Upon graduating in 1961 he was accepted into Dartmouth Medical School. War was looming, however. He deferred admission, became an officer candidate in the US Navy, and was assigned to the carrier USS Ranger. His sleeping quarters were near a hydraulic lift that raised and lowered the fighter jets, and throughout his service he felt like he was sleeping inside an asthmatic Moby Dick. He never did see combat. His carrier was part of a fleet in the Gulf of Tonkin when Lyndon Johnson cabled the commanding officers that North Vietnam had launched a torpedo attack and to return fire at will. No one in the fleet actually saw the torpedo and Jack’s commanding officer replied, “Fire at what?”

After completing military service, Jack decided that he no longer had the patience for four years of medical school and five years of internship/residency. A career counselor gave him a personality test, and that is when he discovered he was off the charts in Power of Persuasion. He was about to cross paths with a small publishing company in California. Not long after that, he crossed paths with a willful author who knew, as he did, that it was time to overhaul science education to reflect a major paradigm shift in molecular and evolutionary biology; and his life, and hers, changed forever.