Sure, there’s a cap on what the Ravens can spend on gamers’ salaries, however there’s no restrict to what the staff can mete out to the neighborhood. It’s no coincidence that, in Richard W. “Dick” Cass’ final seven years because the Ravens’ president, the staff gave greater than $50 million in charitable contributions to an appreciative hometown.
During Cass’ 18-year tenure — he retired final 12 months — the Ravens donated $2 million to refurbish two highschool athletic fields; created a number of faculty scholarships; outfitted dozens of sports activities groups; funded after-school packages; and spruced up metropolis playgrounds.
Moreover, on the behest of Cass and staff proprietor Steve Bisciotti, the membership not too long ago donated $20 million to renovate the Hilton Rec Center in West Baltimore. It has additionally funded two bookmobiles (full of giveaway books), financed Habitat for Humanity tasks in Pigtown and Sandtown-Winchester, and given $2.4 million to 2 space nonprofits to assist fight home violence.
“The Ravens and the Bisciotti Foundation understand that Baltimore has a great many needs,” Cass, 77, says. “We’re in a position to help — and it’s our obligation to do that.”
It’s a philanthropic mindset that was espoused by Bisciotti and embraced by Cass when he joined the staff in 2004 as the brand new proprietor’s first rent. A lawyer by commerce, Cass took a job that’s typically dry and backstage, and gave it a face and a soul. He has served on the boards of the Greater Baltimore Committee, the Kennedy Krieger Institute, the Baltimore Community Foundation and the Maryland Science Center.
In 2017, the Ravens contributed $1.2 million to refurbish Renaissance Academy High School in West Baltimore to maintain it from closing. During the coronavirus pandemic, Cass supervised a $2 million present to the Maryland Food Bank and United Way, amongst others.
The largesse is just not confined to native wants. In the aftermath of hurricanes Katrina and Harvey, the Ravens gave practically $2.5 million to help victims within the Gulf Coast.
When he grew to become staff president, Cass confesses, “I didn’t have a good feel for what I’d be doing, day to day. But the philanthropic activity has helped [the Ravens] become embedded in the community. Some sports teams never reach that point. You can overcome it with success on the field, to some degree, but if you’re only talking football, it’s harder to get that loyalty.”
The son of a Coast Guard officer, Cass moved typically as a toddler; the upheavals helped him be taught “how to deal with all kinds of people.” Sports have been a relentless; a slim however scrappy quarterback, he performed soccer till hurting his knee in school at Princeton University. He performed baseball with the identical resolve. At 12, he overheard an opposing youth league coach denigrate his fielding.
“He [Cass] doesn’t have a strong arm. We can run on him,” the coach stated. Cass took the slam to coronary heart.
“That game, I threw out four runners who tried to steal on me,” he says. “It made my day. I played with a chip on my shoulder. Baltimore has [a chip] too. This is a very small business community; some years, there are no Fortune 500 companies quartered in the Baltimore area. [Civic leaders] must listen to what others say, be resilient and tough, and respond. Everyone is better with a chip on their shoulder.”
While some might imagine that the staff’s neighborhood efforts are publicity-driven, Cass says not.
“There are some who would think that,” he says. “I understand the cynicism, but what we are doing outside of the Ravens is very broad, and goes much deeper.”
The skilled gifting is backed by private expertise. In 2006, at age 59, Cass donated a kidney to a former classmate at Yale Law School. He shrugged off the surgical procedure, saying, “You only need one [kidney].”
In 2014, after Ravens working again Ray Rice was arrested in a high-profile home assault case, Cass reached out to Sandi Timmins, government director of The House of Ruth Maryland. Damage management was not first on his agenda; a clean examine wouldn’t do.
“Dick said, ‘I need to understand this better,’” Timmins says. “He has since introduced me to players who might help raise awareness of intimate partner violence in their circles, had us speak to Ravens staff on the issue and even created a ‘safe space’ where we can go to talk to others. What sets him apart from others who provide financial support is that he understands the importance of leveraging his own reputation, and that of the Ravens, in bringing [domestic violence] to light.”
Having lived in three different NFL cities, Brad Schlaggar believes the staff’s neighborhood involvement beneath Cass is “a stark contrast” to that of its friends.
“A lot of what the Ravens do flies under the radar and is driven by a strong desire to help,” says Schlaggar, president and CEO of the Kennedy Krieger Institute. “Dick works within the shadows, and his efforts come from a spot of excessive social consciousness.
“He does stuff because it’s the right thing to do, not because there’s a light shining on it.”
Richard W. “Dick” Cass
Age: 77
Hometown: Washington, D.C.
Current residence: Chevy Chase
Education: Mercersburg Academy (Pennsylvania); Princeton University; Yale Law School
Career highlights: Partner at D.C.-based legislation agency Wilmer, Cutler and Pickering; president, Baltimore Ravens
Civic and charitable actions: Board member of Kennedy Krieger Institute; Baltimore Community Foundation; Greater Baltimore Committee ; Maryland Science Center
Family: Married to Heather Cass for 53 years; two youngsters, 4 grandchildren
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Source: www.bostonherald.com