Rey Moulton

No rest in Rey: Moulton redefines 'retirement'

By William Henderson / Correspondent
Wednesday, December 24, 2003

Good deeds are many for two-time Chamber Man of the Year of tragedy and triumph Rey Moulton leans against the back wall of a local coffee Highlands shop, not ordering coffee just yet, but already capable of decision is in tasting the iced coffee he will, in time, order. He's best able to watch everyone else inside the shop from this vantage point and, conversely, he's best seen while not-so-happy flu year sitting here.

In the span of an hour or so, four different people wave at him and ask how he's doing. Moulton has an easy smile for each of them, greeting each by name. His secretary meets him at this same coffee shop some mornings. She hands off papers for him to sign and he asks for what he next needs.

Welcome to retirement, Moulton-style. "I never did like taking time off," he says. "I never planned for retirement."

And he's still attempting to plan his retirement, deciding in which consulting jobs to take, which to decline. Since selling his multi-million dollar insurance company in October, he's seen firsthand what retirement will be like, and he doesn't much like it. It's not for him, this being free to watch television or travel or catch up on nearly 30 years of sleep missed steering his insurance company, R.E. Moulton, since its 1976 formation.

Moulton didn't plan on a life in insurance. While at Dartmouth, where he most enjoyed playing soccer, different job recruiters wined and dined, and only when Connecticut General, a Boston-based insurance group, asked him to become their sales representative, did he see the possibilities of working in insurance. That was 1960.

Sixteen years later, he began his company on a borrowed $2,500 from his father, which he repaid (at 10 percent interest no less) within one year. When it sold this this year, the company was generating more than $200 million in sales, which was nice, but Moulton especially liked how his employees were mostly local, and when it came to charitable contributions, his employees helped him decided which ones to support.

There have been many in town. He admits he won't name them all but attempts to recite a partial list. Marblehead Counseling Center. Citizens Scholarship Foundation. North Shore Hospice Regatta. Friends of the Marblehead Public Schools. Edith Dodge Foundation. Food banks. He donated the library's children's room. He's been a three-year Chamber of Commerce president and has served on its board. And then there's the schools' DARE program, which he calls a resounding success, especially in light of the recent high school drug search which led to only two expulsions.

"That just shows you what DARE is doing," he said. "Think what it would be like if [the program] wasn't there."

He said one of the reasons he gives to the community is because of his roots here.

"When you first start a business in town, there are so many people who you need help from. And then when you're in town, and your employees are in town, it's pretty easy to find things to fund," he said. "You don't have to spend a fortune, but for some of these organizations, $1,000 is a lot of money. It just makes you feel good."

And think what Marblehead would be like without men like Moulton who doesn't even currently live in town, not since moving to Manchester in 1997. He doesn't see it as a permanent move. Give me five years, he says. "I'll be back."

This year, for the second time, the Chamber of Commerce named Moulton the town's person of the year, an honor he first received in 1991. He was also named the town's businessman of the year in 2000. And this is what he prefers to be remembered for and not because he survived nerve cancer when he was 5 years old (he lost his right arm as a result) and not because he underwent a heart transplant 4 1/2 years ago.

"Because I was so young, I just never knew the difference," he said of the loss of his arm. He remembers waking up in bed with no arm and wondering where his parents were.

But then there are the memories of playing every sport, swimming, baseball, even basketball (though he said he could shoot the lights out of the ball, he was a "terrible ball handler.")

"It made me much stronger," he said. "I don't think I'd be where I am now if it hadn't happened."

The loss of his arm made him try harder. He learned there was no such word as "can't," and he learned how there is room for being competitive off the ball field.

The heart problems came as something of a shock, though. He recalls having heart problems for a while, and as he continued to grow weaker, he finally underwent bypass surgery in 1988. Ten years later, with little choice, he added his name to a transplant list and he waited. For 18 months.

"You start realizing that you could die. I could die, I could die, I would think, and then the fear takes over," he says. "You can't let that happen. It paralyzes you, both physically and mentally. You spend so much time thinking about what could happen and what will happen, that you don't think about what is happening."

Finally, his name came up, he received his new heart, and although he left the hospital having gained 30 pounds (most of which he has since lost), he knows that everyday is a gift, something to share, something to give, and something to rejoice.

Right now, though, he still has to adjust to retirement. There's someone waiting for him so he has to run. He smiles.

"This is just another challenge," he said. "I have all kinds of opportunities and I'll figure out what I'm going to do. But I'm not just going to retire, not until they put me in the ground."