Couple’s Good Fortune Is Now Paying Off for College, People in Need

Carolyn and Harry Lundgren eat early-bird specials, clip coupons and bargain-shop at garage sales.

And for countless people in need, their penny-pinching has paid off.

Through careful investments in the stock market, they have amassed a small fortune. Now they are starting to give it away.

“I’ve spent years collecting,” Carolyn Lundgren, 69, said from her cluttered, middle-class midtown home brimming with auction-bought antiques and garage-sale bric-a-brac.

“I don’t want any more. It’s time for me to get rid of things. You can only collect so much.”

One of the Lundgrens’ most recent acts of philanthropy was a $30,000 donation to the Ventura College Foundation in May. The money was used to buy a concert grand piano and computers, plus provide seven scholarships for the school’s music department.

It is one of the largest gifts made to the school by a living donor, said Pat Terry, spokeswoman for the foundation.

“Many times we have [money] left to us after someone has died,” she said. “How nice that Carolyn can see her acts of generosity being put to good use.”

She said she is not done giving to the college.

Walking past a mantle overflowing with anniversary, birthday and Mother’s Day cards, Lundgren made her way to a small table in her dining room laden with costume jewelry, a few pieces valued at $200 each.

“I’m just hoping the drama department can use it,” she said.

Fillmore Convalescent Center, Community Memorial Hospital, Meals on Wheels in Ventura and the American Cancer Society Discovery Shop in Camarillo are also frequent recipients of the Lundgrens’ goodwill, whether it be in the form of cash, food or clothing.

But while they are active supporters of local charities, their money isn’t wedded to Ventura County.

Several months ago, the couple said they gave half a million dollars to Stanford University with the understanding that the money go to scholarships for women. They said they also arranged to give another $500,000 to the school after they die.

A Stanford spokeswoman confirmed that the Lundgrens gave a “substantial” gift, but declined to say how much.

While the donations usually bear both their names, the money really is Carolyn’s.

A Bay Area transplant who never earned a college degree and worked part time as a bookkeeper, she began investing in the stock market in 1970 after learning about Wall Street from library books.

Her key to success? “Buy blue-chip stocks you can trust, like Kellogg’s, and never let them go. Just close your eyes when the market gets bad and hang on.”

The money obviously has not gone to her head. Other than investing, the only other hobby she has is giving her money away.

Her 70-year-old husband of 17 years--each was previously married--has also gotten in on the act.

The former co-owner of Economy Plumbing in Ventura, Harry Lundgren gives to the Oxnard Rescue Mission and, every Friday, he passes out cigarettes and buys lunch for the folks at the Fillmore convalescent home.

“He has so much care for the people--especially the smokers,” said Eduardo Gonzalez, convalescent home spokesman. “He’s here every Friday by 10 a.m., bringing the people McDonald’s or hot dogs. And in December, he provides a party for all the employees.”

Gonzalez noted that Carolyn Lundgren also donates money to the center’s auxiliary, to pay for beauty care and haircuts.

The Lundgrens have no children, save for a Chihuahua-pug mix named Angel who gets penned in a crib in the middle of the living room during mealtime.

So finding worthwhile places to give money is a relief.

“I never even knew you could give to all these different kinds of groups until I was in the library and noticed the book said ‘Donated by . . .,’ ” Lundgren said about her discovery seven years ago.

Since then, she has been trying to find charitable organizations with low overhead that give most of their money directly to the needy.

Politics, not religion, is the driving force behind her good deeds.

“I’m not a churchgoer,” she said. “I’m a conservative Republican. I don’t believe in handouts. But I do believe in helping those who are helping themselves, like girls studying at college, or those that can’t help themselves, like the people at the convalescent home.”

The Lundgrens have an unassuming lifestyle. She drives a 5-year-old Toyota; he’s got a Ford. They eat cheap hors d’oeuvres at happy hours and inexpensive early-bird specials.

Nothing gets thrown away, and their cabinets are spilling over with antiques and “funny whatnots” that they find at garage sales and auctions, Lundgren said.

Their neighbors had no idea that the Lundgrens had so much money.

“I knew they were comfortably fixed,” said Helen Stork, who lives across the street. “But I didn’t realize how rich.”

That’s the trick. Lundgren winks as she pulled out last month’s copy of Money magazine, which has an article on millionaires who live extremely modest lives.

“This article is all about me,” she said, as she highlighted a sentence that read: “People with real money don’t show it off. Most are frugal to the point of being chintzy.”