TRAVERSE CITY — James C. Ganter, a champion of the environment and open, fair government, and founder of Sugar Loaf Mountain Resort, which was once Leelanau County's largest employer, died May 2 at Munson Hospice House. He was 74. The cause was complications from cancer.
In 1964 Ganter stood on the highest point in Leelanau County, inspecting the cavernous pits that had just been excavated to moor the chairlifts for Sugar Loaf Mountain. He'd been quietly working on the greatest challenge of his thirty-year life - establishing a ski resort that would become an indelible part of the community. Quick with wit, he enjoyed the curiosity of neighbors who would wander by and wonder what could possibly be going on up there.
On that evening, as Ganter was no doubt imagining what the future might hold, a man trudged up to him and asked point-blank: "What in the world are you doing?"
"I'm in business," Ganter grinned as he stretched out his arms to take in all the digging, "Can't you see... why, I'm selling holes!"
James Carl Ganter was born on July 12, 1932, in Indianapolis, Ind., and spent his boyhood in nearby Muncie, where he began a lifelong pursuit of integrity, industry and good sportsmanship.
Jim Ganter liked to refer to himself as "just an Indiana farm boy." As a part of the war effort, he oversaw the family chicken house, an assignment from his mother that amused him for all the days after it was over.
He had his sights set on a different kind of wings. He dreamt about flying and secretly managed to earn his pilot's license before he was old enough to drive, bicycling to the local airstrip for lessons. One of his favorite stories tells how he talked his beloved stepfather, G. Fred Rieman, into boarding a small plane with him, "just to see what it felt like on the ground." The young Ganter, barely 15, taxied down the runway and had the plane in the air before a befuddled G. Fred knew what was up.
In Muncie's Burris High School, Ganter was first-string on the champion varsity basketball team, switching to varsity tennis at the University of Arizona where he was a member of the Alpha Tau Omega fraternity. He married Janice Patricia Morris, "Pat," in 1953 at the Naval Academy Chapel in Annapolis, Md., where her family had their home.
Ganter graduated with an MBA from the Wharton School of Business in 1956. His final oral exam took place the morning after their first child, Patty, was born. As the story goes, he expounded with expertise on what turned out to be the wrong question. Undaunted, he admitted the error, stepped up to the dais of university examiners, announced the birth of his daughter and handed them cigars. He passed.
For seven years, Ganter applied his business acumen and his aviator's precision to the brokerage world at Thomson-McKinnon in Anderson, Ind. and Indianapolis. He then decided to create his own business model - literally, from the ground up.
Ganter bought Sugar Loaf from the one-run Winter Sports Club and Sugar Loaf Mountain Resort opened in December of 1964 with two new chairlifts, one J-bar and a ski lodge. The resort expanded quickly and earned national recognition for its challenging runs with views overlooking Lake Michigan. Golf, tennis, condominiums and a hotel with convention facilities followed. Sugar Loaf grew to nearly 3,000 acres and, in its heyday, more than 2,500 skiers enjoyed the slopes on weekends.
Countless former staff members remember Ganter with admiration and affection as a model of fairness, compassion and excellence. More than a business, he established a community and his values set the tone. Every employee had the faith of his personal trust, and a code to live up to.
Ganter liked to recall the day when he came across a pile of cigarette butts in the Sugar Loaf parking lot. He beckoned to what appeared to be a new employee and, in a fatherly tone, dispensed a brief sermon on the importance of attention to details. A pile of cigarettes, he said, makes the difference between a first-rate operation and the rest. He handed the man a broom and gave him the chance to demonstrate Sugar Loaf's dedication to perfection. But the man was a new customer, not an employee. "May I check in now?" he responded after cleaning the parking lot. The man, impressed, promptly bought a condo.
Ganter pursued his passion for aviation, tennis and marksmanship. With Pat as navigator, he flew aircraft that included a Piper Cub, Cessna Skylane and Piper Cherokee 6. He held multi-engine and instrument ratings.
His fondness for hunting and skeet grew from one of his earliest entrepreneurial ventures, shooting crows in the 1940s with his brother, Leo, in their grandfather's cornfield for a 5-cent bounty.
Jim Ganter was a light on the tennis court. His warm smile and gracious courtesy belied a deep, infectious competitive spirit. His daughter, Patty, remembers his enthusiasm and support when she decided to take up tennis "later" in life. She cherishes the memories of Saturday morning tennis at the YMCA when she and her father hit balls and she learned to love the game.
Ganter shared his joys, from the airstrip and the tennis courts at Sugar Loaf to the sense of community he cultivated there. He worked seven days a week, year-round and spent so much time at Sugar Loaf that Pat received her full certification as a professional ski instructor, teaching every day until the resort closed in 2000. (Ganter retired from the business in 1982.) Family holidays revolved around the rhythms of the resort, remembers his son, Carl. Born the year after Sugar Loaf opened, Carl grew up as part of the team, learning how to drive every piece of heavy equipment and fill nearly every position at the resort. With Carl often at his side, Ganter watched with anticipation as lift towers were lowered into place by helicopter and snowmaking equipment was tested on the first cold nights of each fall.
When he first broke ground at Sugar Loaf with a big, red bulldozer driven by friend and farmer Lloyd Eitzen (who later oversaw the resort's outside operations), Ganter had planned on a five-year career term. Instead, he and his family became part of the landscape, rooted by a love of skiing and an abiding affection for the county and its residents. He recalled fondly the adventures of the extended Sugar Loaf family.
Dale Searcy, a former business associate and now law professor in Ohio, helped negotiate the first land purchases and guide the dream, beginning in 1963. "We shared the work inherent in each major business and financial decision and plan," Searcy said. "For both of us, it was a wonderful period of bonding, friendship, mutual respect, hard work, and entrepreneurial endeavor in the great American tradition. What an exciting era it was."
After Sugar Loaf, Ganter turned his talents to serving the community in a new way, becoming a watchdog of local politics and the environment. He despised hypocrisy and greed, and no "old boy" favoritism was safe. He was a stickler for transparent governance.
Ganter joined the Elmwood Township Planning Commission in 1988, where for nine years he was a gadfly to any developer who was less than forthright. The "Indiana farm boy" with an MBA tracked every detail, checked every fact, and held special interests accountable.
Ganter was also a strong advocate for sensible development practices, serving on the board of the Michigan Land Use Institute and founding the Cedar Lake Association. With his ability to put issues into concise and plain terms, he was a natural subject for local newscasts. Thanks to the title so often given to him on television, Ganter's family nickname became "Concerned Citizen."
With Pat, he became an active member of the Northern Michigan Environmental Action Council (NMEAC), the Leelanau Conservancy and Elmwood Citizens for Sensible Growth. In April he and Pat were named “Environmentalists of the Year” by NMEAC, for which he was proud.
His affable side shone on his daily walks at Traverse City’s Civic Center - the tall, fit, white-haired gentleman in tow behind an exuberant Old English Sheepdog. Ganter’s smile was embracing. He might not recall your name, but he would meet you as a friend.
He died with his wife, children and sheepdog beside him. “Goodbye, I’ll see you,” he said.
He was preceded in death by his mother, Hylma H. Rieman; father, Leo S. Ganter Jr.; stepfather, G. Fred Rieman; two sisters, Suzanne Burtt and Jeanne Gillespie; and a brother, Leo.
He is survived by his wife, Pat; a daughter, Patty Pelizzari; a son, J. Carl Ganter; three grandchildren, Jimmy Pelizzari, David Pelizzari, Kira Ganter; and a sheepdog, Sadie.
Donations may be made to his favorite organizations: the Leelanau Conservancy, the Michigan Land Use Institute, the Northern Michigan Environmental Action Council and the Old Town Playhouse.
Jim Ganter’s life and legacy will be honored on Saturday, June 23, at 10:30 a.m., at the Dennos Museum Milliken Auditorium, Traverse City, MI, with refreshments afterward. A walk will follow at the DeYoung Natural Area on Cherry Bend Road in Leelanau County. All who knew, admired and loved Jim Ganter are invited to gather, bring photographs and share memories of the man who filled a community with a mountain of pride. A man who began an incredible enterprise and joked that he was selling holes.
The hole he leaves behind is very great indeed.
Kindly share your memories with his family by signing their online guest book at www.legacy.com/record-eagle/.
Arrangements were made with the Reynolds-Jonkhoff Funeral Home, 305 Sixth Street, Traverse City, MI 49684; www.reynolds-jonkhff.com.
This obituary was originally published in the Record-Eagle.
