‘You begin to recognize that you’re not immortal.’

Norman B. Sigband retired from the faculty of the USC School of Business last year, but his schedule is still full. The most important date on his June calendar is a trip to Chicago with his wife, Joan, and their three grown daughters. A specialist in business communications, he will receive an honorary doctorate of humane letters from De Paul University, where he began his teaching career. The Sigbands live in Studio City.

When I came back to Chicago after the war, I stopped at De Paul University and chatted with people in the College of Commerce. They were hiring almost anybody who was willing to teach, because the flood of veterans was inundating the school. I had a master’s in English and history from the University of Chicago. I wasn’t a business major at all. They offered me finance or accounting, and then the dean said, “How about business English?” I said, “Well, I think I can handle that.”

I had no idea I was going to stay in education when I started teaching. It was sort of a stopgap to get some money after the war. I found the field of business English, as it was called then, fascinating. I began to work with industry as a consultant. I got my Ph. D. from the University of Chicago while teaching full time at De Paul, working with industry, working part time at another school and raising the kids.

All that work was necessary. But I think, even if I didn’t need the money I would have done it, because while you’re awake you are supposed to be working. The daylight hours are for work, and the nighttime hours are for sleeping. In 1954 I became a full professor, and my first book came out.

We came out from Chicago in 1965, and I joined the faculty of the School of Business at the University of Southern California and have been there since then--teaching, consulting with companies in the Los Angeles area and writing the books and articles that professors are supposed to write.

In 1980 I had chest pains and went to the hospital and had an angiogram. Three doctors told Joan and me that I should have bypass surgery. I said we would think about it. They said now. It’s difficult to argue with the doctors when you’re lying horizontal and they’re all staring down at you nodding their heads in agreement.

I’ve always worked very hard, usually held more than one job at a time, but I was forced to slow down and give up the job of director of executive programs at USC. At that time I began to think maybe running full speed wasn’t the answer. You begin to recognize that you’re not immortal. You recognize that the time ahead is a lot less than the time behind.

To achieve some degree of longevity, I stopped flying all over the country as a consultant. The ego satisfaction and the fees, meeting upper-level businessmen constantly, was very exciting. I enjoyed that, but it was a tremendous amount of stress. I found it stressful to finish a class at noon, catch a 1 o’clock plane, change planes, get to Chicago, New York or Kansas City at 6 and be picked up at the airport and wake up the next morning and talk all day--then catch a 6 o’clock plane back to Los Angeles so I could meet my 8 o’clock class the next day.

So I tried to divest myself of a little bit of that stress. But it’s very difficult when you are a Type A personality for 50 years to change in five or six years. I’m trying to do a better job, but I still enjoy the excitement of moving rapidly.

I continue to work with companies. Yesterday I met with Lockheed. Today I was out with McDonnell Douglas. And, of course, I continue to revise the books, because they are fortunately the best sellers in the field in the country. The writing has always been a very enjoyable part of my career. The textbooks, I must admit quite frankly, are financially advantageous. When I went to school I purchased books for $3.95. Now they’re $25, and the percentage rate has remained the same for the authors.