s the chill breath of winter began blowing across Lake Michigan,
Sue Ling Gin was indeed flying high. Her civic reputation was sterling.
In November she was honored for her "humanitarian efforts" at a
$150-a-plate black-tie benefit for the Karyn Kupcinet Center at
Little City, a provider of social and recreational programs for
the mentally ill. Undoubtedly, her involvement was linked to her
sister Connie.
For about nine months--from the fall of 1990 through the summer of 1991--Sue Ling Gin was perched
on top of the world. Then, in one devastating 7-month stretch,
her entire world crumbled at her feet. It began with the demise
in late 1991 of MidwayAirlines which was then 80% of FFF's business.
"Midway was doing fantastic," Richard recalls. "It was a growing airline, and for almost ten
years it was doing good. Then they went and tried to expand into
Philadelphia and all over and it got caught in the Gulf War with
the price of fuel sky high and they went busted. It was a small
airline making money hand over fist and it tried to be big, and
that was a mistake." At the time it filed for
bankruptcy, Midway owed FFF $1.2 million.
"God, we were in bad shape," Gin told the Sun Times. "We went from 250 workers to 25,
and those took a pay cut. The first week was devastating. Everyone
was dealing with first things first, like their anger and placing
blame. Some people jumped ship. We were seeing a lot of negative
feelings. I thought I grew warts all over my body. I didn't want
to see anybody, talk to anybody."
"She owed a lot of people
money," Richard recalls. "Not many small businesses can survive
a situation like that." At that time Richard's son Calvin had just
graduated from DePaul University with an accounting degree and
had become a CPA. In need of the kind of support and trust that
only family can provide, Sue Ling recruited Calvin to become FFF's
comptroller. "He worked hard and helped her get through that,"
Richard says. "He had a lot to do with that."
Sue Ling Gin was working frantically to keep Flying Food Fare alive. Then she was hit by
a second big blow. In February of 1992 her mother died at the age
of 86.
[CONTINUED BELOW]
"She held a funeral in Chicago even though my mother never spent that much time in Chicago because
hardly no one knew her [in Aurora] because she kept to herself
a lot," Richard recalls. "Then, too, because of my sister's business,
we decided to hold the funeral in Chinatown in Chicago. A lot of
people came from the Chicago business community." Among those in
attendance was anchorwoman Linda Yu, a friend of Sue Ling. Bill
McGowan, who had recently stepped down from his position as MCI's
CEO, flew in from Washington D.C.
Sue Ling Gin was still deeply immersed in trying to revive FFF from its desperate straits when
McGowan, 64, succumbed to another heart attack on June 9, 1992
at Georgetown University Hospital. By then, the company he started
with a brave dream and a secretary was selling $10-billion worth
of long-distance calls a year, more than any company in the world
but AT&T.
"He helped build one of the world's leading long-distance companies," eulogized Alfred Sikes,
chairman of the Federal Communications Commission. "He helped provide
millions of Americans more choices at lower prices. And for nearly
three decades he consistently demonstrated that breadth of imagination
needed to contemplate and achieve great things."
McGowan's longtime nemesis was
as lavish with praise as it had been with roadblocks and brickbats during
his crusade. "Bill McGowan will go down in business history as one of
America's foremost entrepreneurs," said AT&T Chairman Robert Allen.
"Probably more than any other single person, he helped to reshape the
long-distance business from the monopoly that it had been for so long
to the highly competitive industry that we know today.
PAGE 10
s the chill breath of winter began blowing across Lake Michigan,
Sue Ling Gin was indeed flying high. Her civic reputation was sterling.
In November she was honored for her "humanitarian efforts" at a
$150-a-plate black-tie benefit for the Karyn Kupcinet Center at
Little City, a provider of social and recreational programs for
the mentally ill. Undoubtedly, her involvement was linked to her
sister Connie.
