Clash With Corporate Culture
Ended Heirs King Ranch Reign
By Mary Lee Grant
Corpus Christi Caller-Times
KINGSVILLE, Texas (AP) Stephen J.
"Tio" Kleberg patterned himself after his
heroes, the men who taught him to ride and rope.
"All I ever dreamed about was being a
cowboy," Kleberg said. For most little boys, it
would have been a far-fetched fantasy. For Kleberg, an
heir to what was then the world's largest ranch and the
fortune in minerals that lay beneath it, it was a modest
ambition.
He learned to ride a horse at age four. At 10 he was
roping cattle. He learned how to treat rattlesnake bites,
work leather and mend fences. At 31, he was running the
largest ranch in the world.
Tio Kleberg grew up to be just what he dreamed of
a cowboy. "He is brave. Once we were roping
wild steers and a steer came straight at him," King
Ranch cowboy Alberto "Lolo" Trevino remembered.
"He was on a good mare, so he was able to sidestep,
and he just roped that steer."
Kleberg also became a businessman in the modern sense.
He has been known to track commodity prices on his
computer and carry a cellular phone on horseback. He
invested millions of dollars to bring the latest
technological advances in genetics and agriculture to the
King Ranch.
While his knowledge and technical skills are cutting
edge, they did not equip him to sidestep trouble inside a
climate-controlled corporate high-rise as readily as he
did the advancing steer.
Friends call Tio Kleberg the last of the great South
Texas patrons in many ways little different from
his father or great-great-grandfather. That proved his
undoing in a corporate world that now can count the King
Ranch among its assets.
Since 1853, when his great-great-grandfather Richard
King carved a kingdom out of some of the most unpromising
land in the American West, the King Ranch's ranching
operations had been run by a family member.
From 1977 until April, that family member was Tio
Kleberg. Now, two corporate officials are overseeing
ranch operations Paul Jenho, an outside executive
brought in to head the livestock and ranch operations in
Kingsville, and Robert J. Underbrink, a Riviera native
who was formerly manager of King Ranch-Florida's citrus
operations and now heads the farming operations in Belle
Glade, Fla.
They were appointed by Jack Hunt, president of King
Ranch Inc., the Houston executive who demanded and
obtained Kleberg's resignation.
"I was completely surprised," Kleberg, 52,
said. "I never thought this could have
happened."
For generations, it couldn't have.
The bold, colorful characters who have controlled the
825,000 acres south of the Nueces River are as much a
part of Tio Kleberg's heritage as the land. When Richard
King needed cowboys to work the ranch, he brought the
entire population of a Mexican village, Cruillas, to the
ranch. They have stayed for generations, and their
descendants, called Kinenos King's Men
still live on the ranch.
When King's widow, Tio's great-great-grandmother
Henrietta, wanted to create a town, she carved Kingsville
out of her ranch.
When his uncle Bob Kleberg Jr. wanted a breed of
cattle to survive the harsh conditions of South Texas, he
studied genetics and created a new breed, the Santa
Gertrudis.
In a family where audacity is second nature, Tio
Kleberg was true to his heritage. He took control of the
King Ranch's domestic ranching operations at age 31 and
soon became legendary in his own right. With his bushy
handlebar moustache, piercing blue eyes and his trademark
unlit Henry Clay cigar which he jabs in the air
emphatically when making a point, he makes an
unforgettable impression.
He made a reputation as an accomplished cattleman and
judge of horses. He developed the ranch's Quarterhorses,
breeding the famed cutting horses Mr. San Peppy and
Little San Peppy. He started a 60,000-acre farming
operation, a startling break with tradition.
He opened the ranch to hunters and developed a
wildlife conservation program. He created a new breed of
cattle, the Santa Cruz. He started a tourism program for
the ranch. But as he pursued the improvement and
perpetuation of the ranch with an independent spirit that
would do a cowboy proud, a corporate culture was
developing within the organization.
As he grew older, the ranch's leadership became less
and less a family matter. In the 1970s and 1980s the
ranch corporation was run by a committee of family
members headed by Jim Clement, a Princeton-educated
businessman who had married into the family. In the late
1980s, the family made perhaps its most significant break
with the past, voting to bring in executives from outside
the family to lead the company and to serve on the board.
By the late 1980s, Tio Kleberg was the only family
member living on the ranch. His cousins, B.K. Johnson and
Bobby Shelton, had made bids to take over the ranch in
1974 after Bob Kleberg died, but Clement was chosen
instead. Johnson sold out for $90 million and Shelton
sold out for a combination of land and other assets.
Now the chairman of the board of directors is Abraham
Zaleznik, a professor emeritus at Harvard Business School
and a psychoanalyst. The president of the company is Jack
Hunt, trained at Harvard Business School, who works out
of the King Ranch corporate headquarters in Houston. Hunt
had been head of a ranching operation in California and
had studied agribusiness in business school.
The qualities in Tio Kleberg that the Kinenos
revered may have led to his downfall with Hunt.
"I am very direct," he said. "I don't
have difficulty making a decision. I can be very
strong-willed and very demanding. In this business you
have to make some decisions knowing they will probably be
wrong.
"But someone has to call the shots. You have to
go forward. You have to, by God, make a decision and do
something." He said he understood better than Hunt
what it is like to ranch in South Texas.
"I know what it is like to work in 110 degree
weather when the cattle are tired and it is hot as hell
and you can't get it done," Kleberg said. "If I
come up and see men sitting under a tree at 4 p.m., I
don't ask them what the hell they are doing. There are
some things you can't learn from a book."
His differences with Hunt finally came to a head over
an incident that seems minor in retrospect. Hunt asked
Kleberg to look into whether the farming and ranching
operations should be separated and that he head only the
ranching operations, Kleberg said. Kleberg went to
Florida to talk with the man who would head the farming
operations and decided the time wasn't right.
"He was raising a young family and he would have
to be traveling a lot," Kleberg said. " I came
back to Hunt and told him I didn't think it was a good
idea. I didn't realize he was giving me a directive. I
thought he wanted my opinion.
"It would have been a lot easier to just say
yes," Kleberg said. "But probably we would have
disagreed at some point. We had had some conflicts. I'm a
firm believer that when you work for someone, you should
follow what they want you to do. If you don't agree with
the way things are going, you need to be somewhere
else."
Shortly after that, Hunt called him to a meeting in
Houston and asked for his resignation.
"I told him OK," Kleberg said.
Kleberg said that if the confrontation hadn't been
over the farming operation, it would have been something
else. The very directness that made Kleberg a leader in
the ranching world sometimes hurt him within the
corporation. Kleberg remembers when a prominent
shareholder was staying at the King Ranch Main House and
complained that the sun was too bright in the early
morning and the peacocks disturbed his sleep.
"I told him he needed to get his ass out of
bed," Kleberg recounted with a chuckle. "I told
him this was a ranch, and he didn't need to be sleeping
late."
It was something his famous uncle, Bob Kleberg, might
have done. The nickname "Tio," Spanish for
uncle, was bestowed by Kinenos who said they
thought he was growing up to be like his Uncle Bob. Bob
Kleberg was known for following his instincts, doing as
he pleased and taking a no-nonsense attitude. He made the
King Ranch the largest in the world with properties in
South America, Europe and Australia. He raised the
Thoroughbred Assault, which won the Triple Crown in 1946.
When he was advised by a writer to get out of
Venezuela in the 1960s because terrorists were trying to
overthrow the government, he asked, "You ever run
away from anything?"
"Nothing that I can remember," the man
answered.
"Neither have I," Kleberg said, hanging his
cowboy hat on a rack at the Venezuelan ranch office and
adding, "I'll need this when I come back."
Tio Kleberg's heritage didn't always serve him well.
Times had changed.
"From my Uncle Bob I learned to make no excuses
and just tell it like it is," Tio Kleberg said.
"In some ways he was very much like Bob
Kleberg," said Bruce Cheeseman, archivist for the
King Ranch for 10 years.
"I think it's a family trait. They're all like
that. They are very blunt and honest and opinionated.
"Tio wasn't very corporate. Tio never suffered
fools gladly. He was always direct and honest. He wasn't
playing little corporate political games. He didn't
choose to schmooze. As an employee, if you screwed up,
you got chewed out, and if you did well, you got a pat on
the back. There were no hidden agendas.
"He's never been one for a lot of small talk. In
my experience, if a meeting lasted more than 30 minutes,
that was too long for him. He had a way of letting you
know if he thought you were being long-winded. He would
stare across the table with those blue eyes as if to say
there was no need to be wasting his or your time."
Some found him too blunt, Cheeseman said.
"I've seen him in corporate meetings where people
asked him what he thought about something, and if he
thought it was a stupid question, he wasn't above saying,
That was a stupid question.
"These MBAs that are running the ranch now use a
lot of business-speak. Tio talked plain English."
Kleberg was appointed to the ranch's board of
directors after he resigned, and for eight years will be
allowed to lease his current residence on the ranch.
In a recent telephone interview, Hunt said he doesn't
think it is necessary to have a family member heading
part of the ranch's operations.
"The nature of our business requires a
change," Hunt said. Having Kleberg on the board will
still give the corporation access to his knowledge, Hunt
added. He said he had no past conflicts with Kleberg.
"I don't know what he's referring to," Hunt
said. "In any management or business, people have
different ideas. I don't know if it is fair to
characterize it as conflicts."
But Cheeseman said he thinks Tio Kleberg lost his job
in part because he questioned Hunt.
"No one really likes their directives and ideas
questioned," Cheeseman said. "I don't mean
constructive criticism, but in the sense of, What
the hell are we doing this for? Tio really
questioned his leadership and abilities. Jack Hunt didn't
take kindly to it."
Before Hunt took over as president, corporate
management deferred to Tio Kleberg on local matters,
Cheeseman said.
"But from the moment Jack Hunt took over, they
didn't defer to Tio on anything," Cheeseman said.
Kleberg said he feels no bitterness about the turn of
events. "I'm in a good place with it," Kleberg
said. "I wouldn't have designed it that way.
"In some ways I feel relief. I was liking my job
less and less. Before, I was spending 80 percent of my
time outdoors, and lately it has been more like 20
percent."
Sitting in his living room with its view of the open
ranchland, his chaps hanging on the wall, Kleberg said
that his love of the land is something that can never be
taken from him. His sharp blue eyes filled with sadness
as he spoke of the loss of his legacy and his concern for
employees. But he spoke just as often with enthusiasm and
confidence in the future.
When he gathered his employees to tell them he had
been asked to resign, he told them in Spanish, "They
can take my body, but they can't take my soul."
"My heart and my soul are with this land and with
these people," he said.
Among those people is Alberto "Lolo"
Trevino, 68, a retired fourth-generation King Ranch
cowboy who remembers the boy who looked up to Kinenos
with respect and admiration. "He is a cowboy, just
like anybody else," Trevino said.
"I remember him from a little boy. We had to
teach him everything, and now he is teaching people. We
could only talk to him in Spanish, so he would
learn."
His training by the Kinenos is one of the most
cherished parts of Kleberg's upbringing.
"Spanish was my first language," said
Kleberg, who also became fluent in Portuguese through his
work with the ranch's Brazilian operations.
"I had two mentors who were about my father's
age," he said. "One taught me sense of duty and
obligation, that if you started a task, you finished it.
They wouldn't bring me home early if I was tired just
because I was the boss's son.
"From the other I learned how to be light in
life, to be a practical joker, not to take life so
seriously. I'm an eternal optimist."
The value of a close relationship with the Kinenos
was something he learned from his father, Dick Kleberg.
"He was fair, and he wasn't tough. People say it
is important to be tough and fair, but he was very
caring. He taught me the importance of seeing that the
people were taken care of properly."
Noelia Torrez, whose father worked for 50 years as a
butler at the Main House, said Tio and Janell Kleberg are
always there to help employees who need them.
"They are paying my college tuition," she
said. "They have done so much. There are 15 in my
family, and the Klebergs are taking care of
everything."
Cheeseman said Kleberg is the last and best vestige of
the old South Texas patron system.
"I think he represented the best in terms of
taking care of people," Cheeseman said. "No
worker couldn't sit down in his office and say,
Boss, I need help. Tio wouldn't say,
No, you didn't make an appointment. He was on
call 24 hours a day. He never had an unlisted number.
"Those people on the ranch look to him for
leadership and direction. Those people were part of his
life. I don't think any corporate suit in Houston has a
clue as to what that means."
Kleberg said his immediate plans are to stay on the
ranch and to become more involved in community activities
in Kingsville. But he doesn't know what the future will
hold.
"I had a friend who was in a similar situation
and he told me to just take a year and see what
happens," he said. "I think that was good
advice. I have been so focused on work that I haven't
really looked around at all that was around me. I am just
going to take a year and be open to what develops."
His only immediate plans are to attend all nine of his
son Jay's football games at Williams College.
"We are going to spend a lot of the fall in New
England, going to games and then taking trips to look at
the leaves and visit friends," he said.
He said the loss of his job has made him more aware of
life's essentials.
"That is health, friends, family and faith,"
he said. "Those are the cornerstones. The events and
experiences of your life are just filler. And I have had
some great experiences. I have intelligent children, I
have a beautiful wife. I want to spend more time with
them."
He said his faith has helped survive the loss of a job
and of a legacy.
"Having faith in a higher power is very
important. It has helped me get through the darker times
in these past months. I don't believe you have to go to
church. God's world is right out there," he said,
gesturing to the pasture outside his house.
He said that each morning he drinks coffee and reads
Scripture while preparing for his day, a practice he has
followed for 20 years.
"I try to let God guide me because I know that in
the course of the day, I'm going to want to do it my way,
and will screw it up," Kleberg said.
Kleberg said he will make himself available to those
who will run the ranch in the future.
"If people have questions or need help, they can
come to me," he said. "That is one good thing
about being on the board, and about living here."
But he says that he won't be working cattle or
participating in roundups the work he loved most.
"That's not my place anymore," he said. "I
could, as a shareholder and a board member. But it's kind
of a love-hate relationship. I love the people, but if I
work here, who would I be helping?"
Only if Hunt is removed as president would Kleberg
consider returning to his former job, he said.
Kleberg said he thinks that stockholders have enough
feeling for the King Ranch in South Texas not to sell it
off anytime soon, but that he isn't sure how long the
piece of land he has devoted his life to will remain
intact.
Cheeseman isn't so sure.
"I have this terrible feeling in my stomach and
heart and head, that it has all been diminished. It's
another investment, it's another return; vis a vis Tio
Kleberg he's expendable. He is one of the most
honest men I have ever known. He is a straight shooter.
In this complicated world, honesty can get you in
trouble."
Kleberg said he is sad that his children can't look
forward to the possibility of succeeding him. His son,
Chris, will go to Brazil this month to head up the
ranch's operations there, a decision made before Kleberg
resigned.
"No, it's over," he said, his voice suddenly
brusque.
"It's the end of an era. History will say how it
turned out."
The King Ranch without the Klebergs will be hard to
imagine, said Trevino, the Kineno.
"It will be very strange to be on a roundup to
look behind us and to look in front of us and our friend
is not there."
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