Free Call Me Ted by Ted Turner, Bill Burke Page B

divorce but it wasn’t long after our separation that Judy realized she was pregnant with our second child. We agreed to get back together and to give our marriage a second chance and almost as soon as we did, I was presented with my new job opportunity in Atlanta. Given all the transitions we had already experienced, Judy and I agreed that it would be best if she and Laura Lee stayed put in Macon while I rented an apartment in Atlanta and came home on weekends.
    With the General Outdoor acquisition in place and being reunited with my father in Atlanta, the fall of 1962 was an exciting time. Dad was elated—the most energized I’d ever seen him. He looked around town for a classier headquarters and traded in his Buick for a Cadillac limousine that Jimmy Brown drove. Unbeknownst to all of us, this upbeat behavior came just as he was approaching the brink of a collapse. He was like an engine that runs at its fastest right before stripping its gears.
    My dad had always had his mood swings, but almost overnight his behavior became significantly more erratic and unpredictable. One day he’d be high as a kite and the next he’d be in a state of abject depression. He’d always been a fairly large man, but now he was putting on more weight and growing a big potbelly. After years of smoking two or three packs of cigarettes a day he had developed a bad case of emphysema that, combined with his drinking and weight gain, took a heavy toll on him physically. I’m sure that Mary Jean’s death had a lasting impact on him as well. Her illness was lengthy and her passing was long anticipated, but it can’t ever be easy to lose a child. I know how devastating it was for me to lose Mary Jean and I can only imagine the grief it created for Dad.
    Despite my father’s obvious ambition, it’s clear to me now that reaching new heights in business and material wealth actually could have undermined his mental state. He told me a memorable story on the subject. He was preparing to enter Duke University just as the Depression hit. His parents lost nearly everything and they struggled to tell him they could no longer afford his tuition. At that young age he consoled his mother, saying, “Don’t worry, Mom. When I grow up, I’m going to work really hard and I’m going to be a success. I’m going to be a millionaire and I’m going to own a plantation and a yacht.” Given their circumstances at the time these were very lofty goals, but by the time he shared this story with me he had achieved all three. He said that having now checked off each of these goals, he was having a really tough time reevaluating things and coming up with a plan for the rest of his life.
    He then told me something I’ve never forgotten. He said, “Son, you be sure to set your goals so high that you can’t possibly accomplish them in one lifetime. That way you’ll always have something ahead of you. I made the mistake of setting my goals too low and now I’m having a hard time coming up with new ones.”
    In addition to achieving all that he had ever hoped to, this new acquisition seemed to trigger other insecurities in Dad. Seeing his parents lose everything in the Depression created a deep-seated concern about going too far into debt. His post-acquisition interest payments were big and the company needed large capital investments to continue its growth. Still, we were doing well and generating plenty of cash. My father knew the billboard business cold and while most of his advisers assured him that he wouldn’t have trouble meeting his obligations, an irrational fear of losing everything began to consume him.
    He tried to get his addictions under control by checking into a place called Silver Hills in Connecticut. They managed to curb his drinking and smoking but right around that time he’d also been prescribed a variety of medications. He said they were for “his nerves,” and I’m pretty sure they included Quaaludes and a variety of other uppers and