Bill Villafranco, lead trustee of the Virginia B. Toulmin Foundation, met Virginia Toulmin in 1995 shortly after she sold Central Pharmaceuticals, the near-bankrupt Indiana drug company her husband put her on the board of before his early death, for $185 million. Toulmin, a former nurse with no formal business training, ran the company from 1965 to 1995 and, upon her death in 2010, left $26 million to the Dayton Foundation, $87 million to Georgetown University Medical Center, and $140 million to a private foundation with three trustees and, notably, no written direction for how to spend it.
Villafranco describes the foundation reaching a milestone during this taping: giving out its 100 millionth grant dollar, timed near what would have been Toulmin's 100th birthday. The foundation now holds around $150 million even after that milestone gift, a result Villafranco credits to deliberately running with no office, no staff and no board of directors, just three trustees paid a trustee fee and eight outside money managers spread across New York, Hong Kong and Los Angeles. Grant decisions follow three pillars drawn directly from Toulmin's life: women in the arts, women and children, and medical research, and Villafranco says the foundation only funds organizations after sitting across a real table from their leaders, never over video calls.
An eight-part book series to carry her name
Villafranco is back on the show largely to discuss the foundation's ongoing children's book series about Toulmin's imagined childhood, an eight-part project he calls biographical fiction. The second installment was releasing in January, following a first book about a young Virginia's first symphony visit with her grandmother, a story Villafranco says resonated even with his 89-year-old father, who told him the book was about the importance of family more than about Virginia specifically. The foundation has also built a Virginia B. Toulmin Culinary Scholars cohort with Girls Inc. and Young Chef Academy, where young girls bake coffee cake, Toulmin's favorite dessert, and earn a jacket bearing her name.
Building a legacy she deliberately avoided
Villafranco is candid that Toulmin never wanted her name on buildings, believing quiet giving made a bigger impact than public recognition, which is part of why her name remains unfamiliar to many Sarasota residents despite the foundation's scale. He says his mission before he is no longer around to tell her story is to change that, arguing Toulmin deserves recognition as one of the greatest female philanthropists in American history, precisely because her giving continues, guided only by trust, well after her death.
What you'll take away
- The Virginia B. Toulmin Foundation gave out its 100 millionth grant dollar around the time of what would have been Toulmin's 100th birthday, while still holding roughly $150 million
- The foundation runs with no office, staff or board, just three trustees and eight outside money managers, to maximize the dollars available for grants
- Grants follow three pillars tied to Toulmin's life: women in the arts, women and children, and medical research
- A second book in an eight-part biographical fiction series about Toulmin's childhood was releasing in January, alongside a culinary scholars program with Girls Inc.
- Toulmin deliberately avoided having her name on buildings, which trustee Bill Villafranco says is why her foundation remains far better known locally than her name
“I know you, I've trained you, you know what I would do, and I want you to go ahead and do that.”
“She believed that you can be silent and make a bigger impact at times than if you're louder or you have your name on a building.”
Places mentioned: Sarasota Orchestra, Selby Gardens