Before he founded a computer chip company, before Advanced Micro Devices took on industry leader Intel, before he made millions and built a series of houses, Jerry Sanders '58 ENG was a University of Illinois student who wasn't sure what branch of engineering was right for him.
The Chicago South Side native had done well in school and came to Urbana in 1954 on a scholarship. But a professor whom he respected had an unusual opinion about Sanders' talents.

Jerry Sanders
|
"J.P. Ruina told me I could be a great engineer, but I also had a tendency to be a dilettante," the chairman of AMD recalled. Bright as he was, Sanders checked a dictionary to make sure he understood what a dilettante was.
"It means someone who doesn't delve deep, gets things quickly but with a shallow understanding," Sanders said. "That didn't sound very promising."
Ruina still teaches electrical engineering, for the last 40 years at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He doesn't remember making the comment.
"How wrong can you be?" Ruina says now.
But Sanders doesn't agree with his old prof. He thinks Ruina was absolutely right in the first place, and for the first time is wondering whether being a dilettante might not have been a key to his success.
Rather than becoming a great scholar, this man who supports great scholars knew just enough about a wide variety of disciplines to find the best people, bring them to his company and inspire them to think deep thoughts.
Sanders' strategy worked. AMD the company he co-founded in 1969 has been wildly successful. It has grown from headquarters in the living room of one of its founders to a global corporation with annual revenues of $4.6 billion.
Sanders recently stepped down as the company's chief executive officer but remains its chairman of the board. In 2001, a $2.5 million gift from AMD created the W.J. "Jerry" Sanders III Advanced Micro Devices Inc. Endowed Chair in the Department of Electrical and Computer Engineering. The inaugural holder of the chair, professor Wen-Mei Hwu, will be invested as the chair holder on March 11.
While Sanders' future turned out sunny, his success didn't always appear certain. He remembers a time in his youth when he was nearly beaten to death by gang members on Chicago's South Side. When the friend he was defending abandoned Sanders at the scene, Sanders learned the importance of loyalty, a lesson from which his employees benefited later, when he lavished them with presents, parties and profit-sharing.
But first, Sanders set out to complete his degree from the U of I.
While he is now famous for his flamboyance, Sanders was not a party animal at Illinois. He remembers trekking from his quarters at the Psi Upsilon fraternity house to the engineering campus. ("It was a long walk to the engineering campus, especially on cold winter days heading to an 8 a.m. class," he said.) He didn't drink or smoke or spend a lot of money. In fact, when he returned for a campus honor last year, he chose to hold his distinguished lunch at Steak 'n Shake, a favorite of his as a student.
The valedictorian of Chicago's Lindblom High School, Sanders was entirely focused on getting a degree that would get him a good career and a good salary.
He took the advice of his paternal grandfather, who with his wife had raised Sanders since the age of 5. "Grandpa told me an engineer can always find a job," Sanders said.
With a scholarship from the Pullman railroad car company, Sanders chose the U of I.
Electrical engineering was truly state-of-the-art at Illinois. While he never had the two-time Nobelist John Bardeen, HON '74, for a class, Sanders does recall influential professors including Ruina, Mac Van Valkenburg and George Anner.
"Anner was one of my favorites. He was quick to criticize rote memorization of work. He appreciated creativity," Sanders said.
Anner once scribbled "very clever" on one of Sanders' papers, and 50 years later, Sanders is still proud to recall how Anner had appreciated the shortcuts his student had spotted.
"It's all about innovation," Sanders said of modern electronics.
After graduation, Sanders first went to work for Douglas Aircraft, then Motorola, then Fairchild Semiconductor, an innovative company for integrated circuits in the 1960s. On the job, Sanders kept learning often to help make sales. Never a research scientist, Sanders was primarily a business-end thinker before co-founding AMD.
"Being a generalist and learning from a lot of people who were technically far superior, I knew the world was going to go digital. I knew the chip was what was coming," he said.
But while Sanders possessed remarkable foresight, he admits he needed a nudge to go off on his own.
He and seven others had come up with the idea of AMD a year after he left his job as director of worldwide marketing at Fairchild.
"I was ignominiously dismissed because of my flamboyant style," Sanders said. "I was summarily dismissed with a hefty severance package."
Fairchild at first had been a great place to work. Chip pioneers Bob Noyes and Gordon Moore encouraged dissent and debate, and Sanders, no shrinking violet, loved the give-and-take.
But a new management team, mostly veterans of Motorola, changed Fairchild in a way that put Sanders on a collision course that's known in the annals of computer lore as "the pink suit."
"There's a legend I went into [conservatively natured] IBM wearing a pink suit. I'd never worn a pink suit in my life! But I did put on a pink jumpsuit my final year at AMD," Sanders said, laughing.
In his version, the new management was set in its ways.