With a Liberal Arts Education, Schermer Does it All
By Laurel Chen
Lloyd Schermer '50 has been living the liberal arts life. He has pursued his interests in mathematics, business, the great outdoors, journalism, and most recently, art. Practically the only thing he didn't do is write for The Amherst Student when he attended the College in the late 1940s.

A Broad Education

Schermer grew up near St. Louis, Mo. In high school, he started out casually about academics. "I was majoring in girls and football, in that order," said Schermer, "until Mother pulled me off the football field." In time, he enrolled at The Country Day School and hit the books. The headmaster and a trustee at The Country Day were Amherst alumna. After a year-and-a-half stint in the Navy at the end of World War II, Schermer matriculated at Amherst. "Our Class of '50 was mostly veterans," said Schermer.

At college, Schermer started out on the pre-med track, but was swept away by the core curriculum-its academic requirements let him indulge in the whole spectrum of a liberal arts education for two years. "The most important intellectual experience I had was English 1 and 2, taught by Professor Theodore Baird. It gave insight on what language can do and what it can't do, in communicating information and knowledge, which steered me into my major," said Schermer. He did senior honors work on symbolic logic, encouraged by a logician who helped crack the Japanese code in WWII. He had the same logician as a professor for two years, and enjoyed being his only student.

Outside the classroom, Schermer participated in track and field and football, and presided over the Outing Club. He savored moments of solitude while hiking, skiing and trout fishing in the quiet Pelham Hills. Schermer also helped advance the post-WWII trend towards changing Greek-letter fraternity houses into small social houses named after alumni. "It was too easy to have people who think the same, who come from the same socioeconomic background, band together. We wanted to do away with the self-selection, and we were successful. It led to the disenfranchisement of fraternities on campus eventually," Schermer explained.

When Amherst's President Cole asked about Schermer's plans after graduation, he stated an intention to pursue business. "Business would be a good foundation for whatever I wanted to do," said Schermer, who ultimately honed his analytical skills at Harvard Business School.

Schermer returned to St. Louis to run a heating and air conditioning business that his father had invested in, more out of obligation than interest. "I got a great education in seeing corruption," Schermer said, joking about getting a "Ph.D. in corrupt business, corrupt unions, and corrupt politicians, all playing together."

Breaking into News

Though his wife's family was involved in the newspaper business, Schermer had never planned on a newspaper career. Yet he became a strikebreaker for the Wisconsin State Journal when its publisher, Don Anderson, convinced him to join Lee Enterprises.

"That was a great decision," mused Schermer, echoing a line he often uses when reflecting on his life. Lee Enterprises, headquartered in Davenport, Iowa, publishes 58 dailies across the country. Among those who form a part of the Lee legacy are Mark Twain and Willa Cather, who wrote for its newspapers.

"We were publishing under strike conditions, and that gave me a chance to learn everything there is in the production of a newspaper," Schermer explained. "That newspaper became the industry leader in converting the typesetting, from letter press-hot metal type-to offset lithography, which uses photographic typesetting and computers, and is used today."

In 1958, he became business manager of the Kewanee Star Courier, a small paper with a circulation of 13,000 copies based in Kewanee, Ill. Due to the Courier's reports of how detrimental strip mining was to the topsoil, laws regulating strip mining were passed at the state legislature at Springfield, Ill., requiring companies to cover up the holes they dug.

Then Schermer moved out to Missoula, Mont. In 1959, he became business manager of the Daily Missoulian (which is today simply the The Missoulian), and became publisher two years later. Schermer led the Daily Missoulian with an environmental activist hook. "We got air and water pollution laws passed, and we got into a lot of political controversy," he recalled. When industrial practices rendered the Clark Fork of the Columbia River sterile, his newspaper jumped on the issue. The Anaconda Company's mining operations were dumping toxic materials into the river, making Clark Fork run red for 150 miles, from Butte to Missoula. The city of Missoula, lacking a sewage plant, was dumping in the same river. The Daily Missoulian ran stories and editorials criticizing such practices, and as a result, motivated the construction of the first sewage treatment plant. The Anaconda Company also cleaned up their pollution over the next 10 years. By the time Schermer left Missoula in 1970, Clark Fork River was a Blue-Ribbon Trout River and still is today.

Schermer kept busy writing, especially when writers were scarce. He wrote editorials, features, news or whatever had to be done. Several times, when a bout of flu decimated the news staff, his wife, Betty, would also come in and help.

Schermer described Missoula's mountains and valleys in glowing terms. As much as he contributed to the city, it also left an imprint on him. One of his sons lives there still, and Schermer had an enduring friendship with Senator Mike Mansfield, who was the Senate Majority Leader while Schermer was in Missoula. Schermer also remains involved with the University of Montana Foundation.

In 1970, Schermer became vice president of newspaper operations, and beginning in 1973, he became president and CEO of Lee Enterprises. After his retirement in 1991, Schermer remained chairman of the Lee board of directors until early 2000.

While running Lee Enterprises, they had a joint venture with a Japanese company, and later with the People's Republic of China. "China had just opened up to the West. We helped People's Daily start their English language newspaper over there, called China Daily," said Schermer, who loved his time spent in Japan and China. "Betty and I loved the back country. I still have one more trip to China and Japan left in my bones."

Schermer was the first foreigner allowed to make a speech at People's Daily, in an old building near Tiananmen Square at the time. "I talked about American business and how we live in our country. They were thirsting for knowledge of the West," he said.

Schermer's palpable love for the outdoors has led him to take backpacking trips, and on one occasion, he met a scientist from the World Wildlife Fund who eventually recommended Schermer to the Fund's board. Then the scientist went over to the Smithsonian as chief scientist, and brought Schermer along with him. From 1991 to 1994, Schermer chaired the Smithsonian National Board.

Art after Retirement

Schermer has reinvented himself somewhat following his retirement. He launched a successful art career with his lively imagination. He combed the depths of monotypes, then started utilizing the materials that had surrounded him as a newspaper publisher-block type. When newspapers around the country switched to offset lithography, millions of blocks of type became obsolete. Nearly all of it was destroyed, but Schermer immortalizes what he gathers into innovative sculptures. As block type is now difficult to find, Schermer jokes to his collectors, "You're dealing with two diminishing resources: antique type and me!"

Schermer makes sculptures full-time now. "I've got a lot of commissions and am in three museums," he said. Currently he's working on two pieces for The New York Times for their new building on 8th Avenue. Speaking of the direction his life has taken, he related a humorous family anecdote, "My mother was a businesswoman. She just died at 103, and when she was 100 years old, she asked me, 'Are you still in the newspaper business?' I answered, 'No, Ma, I'm now doing art.' She had to process that, and then she asked, 'Can you make a living doing that?'" Schermer chuckled at the memory. "I said, 'I'm trying, Ma, I'm trying.'"

Issue 07, Submitted 2007-10-19 02:53:28