Good afternoon—I am absolutely thrilled to be here and honored to speak at this event. For those who don’t know me, my name is Jaimie and I’m the daughter of a celebrity.
What? Which one? Oh you know the one. He’s a celebrity ‘round these parts and I feel it every time I visit. I still remember when Eve Crompton was little, she looked up at me in awe and said, “George Purnell is your dad?”
Yes, yes he is.
Now I am also a proud Happy Valleyian. As my boys would say, I went to school here in the 1900’s. And yes, we had TV—and it was in color—and I’m not that old. But I am from an era when the sixth grade boys would bring big radios to school, we called them boom boxes, and they would breakdance on the blacktop at recess. We played a cutthroat game we called flubber. And we raised money for the school by selling styrofoam cups of earthworms from Mr. McGuire’s worm bin.
Now as much as I’d love to spend all afternoon reminiscing about Happy Valley in the 80’s, today I’m here to share the story of my dad and three valleys.
The first valley
My dad was born and grew up in a little town in Central Pennsylvania called Bellefonte. And this is a very special town in a very special valley called Nittany Valley. Bellefonte was established in the 1800’s, and has a population of just 6,000 people. It’s filled with tree-lined streets and Victorian architecture and was the home of several Pennsylvania governors.
It’s a place where packs of little kids roam across acres and acres of backyards with no fences. Where they teach you to roll your corn on the cob on an entire stick of butter. And the drug store has a soda fountain serving chocolate cokes.
Growing up, we made an almost annual pilgrimage to this place to visit friends and relatives and spend time outdoors in a place full of big trees and steep mountains. It’s a place where my husband, James, could walk down the street 3,000 miles from here, and someone would call his name. My dad grew up in this place until second grade. Filling a wagon with fruits and vegetables and setting a goal for himself that he wasn’t going home till the wagon was empty. This is a community where kids grow up feeling safe, known, and free to explore. It shaped who my dad is. It taught him the power of immersing yourself in community.
And wouldn’t you know—the nickname for this place? It’s Happy Valley. Which brings us to…
The second valley
As my dad grew up, his world—and his goals—began to expand beyond the first valley. He loved spending time in Scouts, working his way all the way to the top—Eagle Scout. When he was taking me around to sell girl scout cookies, he’d tell me stories about how when he was in scouts he’d sell train cars full of fertilizer. Train cars. To this day, I’m still not sure I even get this.
Ultimately, after college in Nittany Valley,, he is drawn to the computer business. It’s the early days of another valley many of us are familiar with—Silicon Valley.
And so, my dad convinces my mom to move to California so he can pursue a career in high tech. In this valley, he hones his sales skills, learns how to navigate people and organizations, and how to build and develop a loyal team. He practices negotiation. He finds budgets and influences without authority. And he’s exposed to the various financial instruments and mechanisms of the business world.
And it’s no surprise that just over the “hill,” in a place full of big trees and steep mountains, he also finds a community and the third valley in this story.
The third valley
Was it coincidence or fate that he moves to a second Happy Valley? I choose the latter. Because in this valley, my dad finds something he’s been building toward all along.
In Happy Valley, he finds the same sense of community from his childhood. Packs of children running across acres and acres of grass. Egg hunts and pool parties and barbecues. All centered around a little mountain school we all know and love—Happy Valley. This place brings together the best of both valleys—the sense of community from Nittany Valley, and the skills he built in Silicon Valley.
He tells me that when I was in fourth grade, I wouldn’t let him get involved with the school board until I’d left for B-40. Which of course I don’t remember, but sounds like me. As the story goes, he partnered with Joe Allen, Lela Willet and Marianne Dreisbach, and I’m sure many others, championing the endowment fund in its earliest days.
I guess they didn’t think selling styrofoam cups of worms was going to cut it?
He dedicated more than 26 years of service to the Happy Valley school board, driving countless projects, navigating issues, and earning the title—Mayor of Happy Valley.
Just a few weeks ago, at the end of March, I called my dad to wish him a happy birthday. He answers the phone and he’s completely giddy. Seriously, he’s on Cloud 9. He’s spent his entire birthday popping around town and as he describes it, “selling.”
“What are you out selling on your birthday?”
Turns out, he’s been getting sponsors and raising money for Happy Valley. He tells me about all of these special connections he’s made with the dairy and a feed store and a winery. And he shares his sales wisdom that first, you’re selling yourself. Second, you’re selling your organization. And third, you’re selling your product. And he is so very proud of Happy Valley school and its “product”—all of you, our impact on this community, and how it spreads into the world. It’s not a coincidence that my best friend married a Happy Valleyian. That Charles Crompton, Jacob Willet, the McNetts, Nadia Krilanovich, and Geoff Purnell are here.
My dad loves this place and its people. He fights for it. He supports it. He sells it. It’s the heart of his legacy and I know I speak for our entire family in saying, thank you for recognizing my dad’s dedication, grit, and love for this very special place…
this very special valley—Happy Valley.
And its newest hero… George Purnell.