Catching up with ... Jeremy Hubball

Mountains, Missions, and Master’s Pieces

By Brooke C. Stoddard

Jeremy describes his life as, “generously peppered with good fortune and life-changing serendipity” that led him to interesting endeavors on and off the beaten path. His father was the headmaster of The Buckley School in New York City, an elite private elementary school for boys. Jeremy attended tuition-free while living modestly with his older sister and parents in a school-owned apartment. Born before the turmoil of the ‘70s, Jeremy had free reign to roam the city and interact with an assortment of characters, races, ethnic and national backgrounds. They instilled in him an optimistic view of the world as an interesting place populated by friendly people, and he was encouraged to explore and experiment, while assuming the responsibility of navigating his way home. 

His parents bought a run-down farm in the sleepy village of Huntington, Connecticut just before he was born, and his childhood was a combination of city and country living. In the summers, he lived a farmer’s life on the neighbor’s dairy farm, milking cows, cutting corn, and riding the baler and manure spreaders. When not engaged in farm chores or projects with his dad, he’d walk the woods with friends, damming up streams, chasing rabbits, and building crude tree forts. He learned how Nature operates and what it could teach him.

Thanks to his dad’s position, he was able to go to Groton School on scholarship. As a late bloomer, he describes his early years there as academically unimpressive. He stumbled along, periodically getting into some “fun trouble,” but near the end of 10^th grade he was almost expelled for a prank that exceeded the school’s tolerance. In his adolescent mind, getting kicked out would have been the end of his world, but he now considers it one of the best things that ever happened to him. This fateful near-miss coincided with a late physical, mental, and emotional growth spurt and a pivot point that  sparked him to finally focus. Things began to click for him academically. At college interview time, what seemed to impress Princeton was the steep slope of his ascendant trajectory more than any scholarly performance, and another scholarship was offered. 

“I appreciated Princeton,” Jeremy says, “I enjoyed my new-found freedoms, my English major, and being a member of Cap and Gown.” Leaving the precious bubble of Groton, Jeremy found Princeton a big and exciting world, but looking back, he realizes how sheltered it must have been and how narrow his perspective. “I only nibbled at the educational feast spread before me. And then suddenly, it seemed, I was out on my own in the big world.”

“My father enjoyed a great and fulfilling life, and my goal was to follow in his footsteps, teach, and become a headmaster,” Jeremy says. “But I also planned to do it my own way.” Not wanting to settle where he would be known as Jim Hubball’s son, he left New York for Boston and his first teaching job in a small elementary school outside the city where he taught “Language Arts” and assisted with History and Math while coaching three sports, one of which he’d never played. One happy benefit of these early teaching years was meeting and eventually marrying Joan, the French teacher. He then transitioned to teaching at a high school for two more years.

“I loved teaching,” Jeremy says, “but I quickly discovered that Buckley and my father’s life were unique, and the times were a’ changing. Both of my first two headmasters were afraid of the parents, the faculty, the Board, and even the kids. During my fourth year of teaching, the school endured a scandal involving inappropriate behavior by the Headmaster, and everyone seemed to behave badly. This realization had me question my life plan, and it was time to pivot once again.”

A major catalyst in this evolution was the birth of their first child, Alexandra. Jeremy welcomed the new responsibilities and the need to grow up fast. Just as he was getting discouraged about becoming a headmaster, serendipity presented an unusual opportunity in 1973. While buying an ice cream cone, he spotted a display at the building entrance, and he headed upstairs where he met Bob Danziger, president and founder of Northland Investment Corporation, a start-up commercial real estate firm. In spite of having a newborn and real-world obligations, something enticed Jeremy to abandon caution and work with Bob at Northland, initially for no pay. 

Surprisingly, Jeremy claims he never lost a moment’s sleep worrying about whether he could support himself and his family or find meaningful and rewarding work. In contrast to today’s reality, it was an easier time that rewarded his optimism. As his world expanded, his intellectual curiosity blossomed, and he discovered the joy of pushing himself out of his comfort zone.

Jeremy says, “About 10 years my senior, Bob was the best businessman I’ve ever known – a thoughtful, honest and generous man who became my great mentor. I enjoyed a rich career that, in addition to the satisfaction of building a great company, was incredibly diverse and always changing. I got to deal with all sorts of projects and people – architects, city planners, lawyers, retailers, developers, philanthropists, entrepreneurs, tenants, businesses and characters of all kinds.” In addition to his real estate focus, Jeremy gravitated towards running the business. “We built and managed office buildings, shopping centers and R&D properties throughout New England, and I think we built a great company.  I guess I owe it all to my love for pistachio ice cream.”

Thirty or so years followed as Northland thrived and Jeremy was active in his community as a Town Meeting Member, hockey coach, and president of the PTA. In addition, he engaged in a host of professional organizations, eventually being named president of the Building Owners and Managers Association, the preeminent commercial real estate trade association. He also accumulated a number of recognitions and awards for his various contributions. Whereas his family of two boys and two girls was his priority, he was also heavily involved in inner city schools with a particular focus on educating girls. Somehow, he still found time to pursue a major passion, periodically heading out into the wild. 

“I’d spent my pre-teen summers at Camp,” Jeremy says, “and I still summon the memory of climbing Mt. Katahdin (Maine’s highest) in a cold, mean, and driving rain. Whereas all my fellow campers and, I suspect, the counselor were miserable, I absolutely loved it. Maybe it stirred some latent masochistic impulse, but for whatever reasons, I was hooked on climbing. Something magical/indescribable happens to me on a mountain.”

When Jeremy was teaching, his love for wilderness got him interested in outdoor education, and in the summers, he led teens from Spanish Harlem camping and climbing in the New Hampshire Presidential Range and paddling a 12-person war canoe around Lake Champlain, camping on islands. This led to attending the National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) where he was introduced to deep wilderness, survival skills, rock climbing, and expedition guiding. What started with climbs in the West, escalated to some of the highest mountains in South America, Africa, Europe, and eventually Asia.

In 1994, about the time he was named president and CEO of Northland Investment Corporation, he was invited to join the Sagarmatha Environmental Expedition on Mount Everest led by Scott Fischer. The team consisted of four professional summit climbers, with Jeremy one of four climbing in support. “This was a non-commercial, low budget climb sponsored by Starbucks and Nike,” Jeremy says. “The first goal was to initiate the clean-up effort that still goes on today. When you’re struggling at severe altitude, you tend to shed every ounce of weight that is no longer needed for survival, and Everest had become littered with discarded oxygen bottles, shredded tents, and dead bodies.” The expedition worked with the Nepali government to limit the number of teams on the mountain, require expeditions to take out as much as they took in, and initiate a bounty program for the Sherpas, paying five dollars for every oxygen bottle brought down. Jeremy ferried loads of gear to establish the high camps up to the Lhotse Step just below the South Col, bringing down whatever debris he could carry. See Mount Everest group picture [photo, right]. Jeremy is standing far right. Scott Fischer is in front of him with white glasses.  Altogether the expedition removed over three thousand pounds of trash from the mountain. One of Jeremy’s greatest disappointments is that the government subsequently abandoned restrictions on the numbers of teams climbing Everest in a season, and the teams grew increasingly large with more and more Sherpas supporting the climbs. As a result, the mountain became crowded and over-climbed, contributing to dangerous conditions. 

The second goal was to get Jeremy’s good friend Scott Fischer to the summit so he could return as an Everest guide. Having summitted K2 twice without oxygen, Scott was a world class climber, but he had been turned back twice on Everest, once due to weather and once to abandon his own climb and rescue climbers in trouble. This second goal was achieved; Fischer and three others summitted without oxygen. Two years later Scott was leading a commercial climb on the mountain when he and eight others died in the attempt. This is the story depicted in Jon Krakauer’s book, Into Thin Air[1], which also references Jeremy’s 1994 expedition.

 Jeremy’s favorite part of Everest was going through the Khumbu Icefall at the start of the climb. “It’s the strangest landscape on the planet, with formidable ice walls, crevasses hundreds of feet deep, seracs (ice pinnacles) and tumbling ice blocks as big as office buildings. The ice is under tremendous pressure as it works its way down this steep and narrow section that is the start of the serious climb. Things are always moving and groaning, and it’s statistically the most dangerous part of the climb. It was a wild encounter, laced with an acute awareness of my mortality, almost holding my breath each time I worked my way through it.” See photo [left] of Jeremy crossing a crevasse in the Khumbu Icefall.

Mountain climbing took Jeremy to extreme places and some intense episodes around the world, including a visit (via a mountain-climbing friend) to the detention center at Guantanamo Bay, a harrowing encounter with the Sendero Luminoso (Maoist terrorists in Peru), and the heart-breaking death of a fellow climber succumbing to High Altitude Pulmonary Edema. More importantly to Jeremy, his wanderings to almost sixty countries increased his exposure to different peoples, cultures, and environments, broadening his perspectives.

Post-Everest, Jeremy and some of his fellow climbers worked to arrange a trip to Concordia in Pakistan where four of the world’s highest mountains converge, but the plans were repeatedly delayed owing to political turmoil. After many frustrations, the seemingly random opportunity to join a pioneering 1,300-mile bike journey through China and Vietnam arose, and he leapt at the chance. “I was no cyclist,” admits Jeremy, “but I signed on as soon as I heard about it. I’ve always found it’s best to just say yes to chance openings and figure the rest out later. If you think it over too long, you’ll find all sorts of good reasons not to do it.” Fear is a great motivator, and he trained hard to get in proper cycling strength.  “There were eight of us,” he says, “including our son Josh who was 24 at the time, and our route was through remote areas where we were the first non-Asians seen in person. Whereas Vietnam carries lingering emotions for our generation in the West and we are still scarred by its memory, the Vietnamese harbor no grudge about the terrible things America did in the war. They welcomed us enthusiastically, and the openness and resilience of these materially impoverished yet spiritually rich communities made a powerful impression. I learned there are countless ways to live a good life, and some of the happiest people I’ve ever known are dirt poor.”

Returning home, Jeremy was driven by a desire to do something positive. As it turned out, Charlie Miller, a Groton classmate, was teaching in Japan and had ties to Catdang, an extremely poor village 60 miles outside Hanoi. “One day we ginned up the idea of seeing if we could help improve the health and education of kids there, so in 2004, we got our 501c3  designation and The Children’s Initiative (TCI) was born. 

“Our mission is to help improve the health and education of children in remote and underserved communities,” Jeremy says, “and we are active in Vietnam, Ethiopia, Honduras, and Haiti. We work in partnership with local communities to help them realize their aspirations for their children. Our working principles stipulate no political or religious agenda, and ideas and initiatives must originate from the village -- not from us. We keep overhead to a minimum so every dollar raised goes directly to the mission.”

Jeremy says, “Serendipity and connections with like-minded people subsequently introduced us to other remote communities that would benefit from our approach.” In Mekelle, Ethiopia, an area torn apart by drought, widespread famine, and civil war for over 40 years, TCI set up a farm and a herd of milk cows to make an orphanage more sustainable.  In El Rosario, a small village in the mountains of Honduras, there was no practical schooling option past the elementary level, so TCI established a high school that now serves over a hundred students from seven surrounding villages. About seven years ago, another friend asked Jeremy for help in Phaeton, a tiny village in the north of Haiti, and this is where Jeremy focuses his attention today. Haiti is the poorest and most chaotic country in the Western Hemisphere, and Jeremy originally thought it a bad fit for TCI. Reinforcing that thought, Joan, by then a  Nurse Practitioner, had served in Haiti for a month after the earthquake of 2010, and told Jeremy of the chaos, waste, and inefficiencies of trying to function in Port-au-Prince. But what Jeremy discovered on his trip to the remote north was a village so isolated that he could see the ingredients TCI needs for success, the most important of which is dedicated parents and community leaders who have the best interests of their children in mind.

Phaeton is an impoverished village of 3,000 where the average daily income is less than $1 and fewer than half the inhabitants have latrines. There is no electricity, and water is only available three days a week, collected at the village tap. Says Jeremy, “Starting in tents and lean-to’s, we built a K-6 school that serves a hot lunch to pupils, probably their only substantial meal of the day. Under the worst imaginable conditions, the Haitians are resilient, joyous, and dedicated to giving their children a better life. We are fortunate to also have a young doctor from the village who, after schooling in the Dominican Republic, wanted to return, and we have built and staffed a medical clinic that provides the only healthcare for the village.” [Photo, right]

“Although TCI’s focus always begins with the kids and schools, it’s inevitable that we get involved in community building projects such as providing clean water and latrines, building libraries, replacing charcoal burning with healthier stoves, and improving agrarian practices. Now celebrating our 21st year in operation, we’ve helped tens of thousands of kids and impacted the standard of living in each of the communities we’re involved with. It’s been tremendously rewarding, and I’m grateful for the involvement of several of our Princeton classmates who have been generous supporters of TCI.”

Another important inflection point for Jeremy came in 2000 when he decided to sell his interest in Northland to his partners. Unsure of the direction he wanted to go next, he took three months off to wander around Southeast Asia, at one point traveling up the Mekong into the lawless Golden Triangle where Laos, Thailand and Myanmar intersect and war lords rule. He spent time with the indigenous Khmu and Black Thai tribes who live the same way they did thousands of years ago. Upon his return to the States, Jeremy joined his former Princeton roommate Gar (“Chip”) Morse in Gar’s real estate advisory firm in Boston. “This was stimulating and satisfying work, and it was a real joy working with Gar,” Jeremy says, but then in 2005 Joan investigated the job market in Miami where their eldest daughter gave birth to their first grandchild. She landed a job teaching at the University of Miami and Jackson Memorial Hospital, and “the next thing I knew,” Jeremy says, “I was in a loaded car with our dog on our way to Key Biscayne.”  

It would be an understatement to say that moving from New England to Miami resulted in supreme culture shock.  Unwilling to declare himself “retired,” a label he still resists today, it was time for another reinvention when he was asked to join the Board of Gibraltar Private Bank and Trust. The founder of the bank was a very good entrepreneur, but after 12 years of success, he’d become bored with management and the bank had outrun its infrastructure. Suffering from extreme growing pains, the bank was in need of the kind of operational expertise Jeremy offered. His position quickly morphed into a full time commitment as Senior Managing Director. The founder preferred to spend most of his energy courting wealthy folks, and running the bank was surprisingly left to Jeremy who had no banking experience. Learning on the job, he initiated a complete restructuring and reorganization with all senior management and bank divisions reporting to him. It was exciting and fascinating work, but also exhausting and frustrating, with all the intensity of a Harvard Business School case study. It was an extraordinary time, Jeremy recalls, but he worked his way out of a job and his role there ended in 2011.

Following his stint as a banker,  Jeremy did some selective advisory work for small and mid-size companies that sought his expertise in handling growth and restructuring. Just as with banking, he found that although he lacked specific experience in the industry, he knew how to build and run a profitable company,  and he was able to effectively apply the skills he’d learned from Bob Danziger and his Northland years. 

Jeremy has always been interested in architecture, design, and construction, and he fell into an opportunity to build high-end spec homes with a contractor partner in Southampton, Long Island. Setting  high standards of quality construction and good design, as well as sweating the details of each project sufficiently tapped his skills and proved a lot of entrepreneurial fun. Then Covid hit in 2020. Chance allowed for three of his four children and their spouses plus two grandkids and three dogs to shelter with him and Joan in Southampton. They cherished this time together, further enhanced by the birth of their seventh grandchild in 2021. 

Being sequestered at home allowed Jeremy to spend more time pursuing another of his passions. He’d kept his love for painting sporadically alive over his career, but now he converted a bedroom to a proper studio and started to take it more seriously. Soon he decided he should pursue a Master of Fine Arts, which he did at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD). Recently designated the #1 art school in the country, SCAD brings more of an academic than technical approach to the program, with an emphasis on philosophy, theory, reading, writing, history and critique. SCAD’s mantra is not to focus on the techniques of making you a better painter, but rather in making you a better artist. The program was demanding and stimulating, and being back in the classroom after over 50 years took some adjustment, but Jeremy loved it.  [Photo, left]

In addition to the good friends and exceptional professors who influenced him, he also found that  his exposure to a variety of cultures and unspoiled landscapes provided deep wells of inspiration and self-reflection, shaping his worldview and informing his artistic expression. With Kaleidoscope, his one-man show of 32 landscape paintings, and the presentation of his thesis last November he earned his Master of Fine Arts from SCAD. “Yes, another thesis,” he remarks, “This one, I like to think, was more nuanced and certainly more enjoyable than my first effort at Princeton 56 years ago.” As the oldest graduate by a couple of decades, he attended SCAD’s commencement ceremonies over Memorial Day weekend. [Photo at top: Jeremy in cap and gown at SCAD graduation.]

Jeremy’s openness to new perspectives is echoed in his family’s adventurous lifestyle, having lived in nine different homes across seven locations. “We’re a close-knit family,” he shares, “and I’ve always hoped our kids would settle within an hour of each other so Joan and I could plant roots somewhere in the middle.” Instead, they are scattered between California, Colorado, Brooklyn, and Florida, prompting Jeremy and Joan to ping-pong around the country. In each new location, Jeremy’s “over-developed real estate gland,” as he calls it, kicked in and he renovated neglected homes with good bones into unique family spaces. For him, these projects were extensions of his creative spirit. Beyond the renovations, however, “Each relocation also requires a kind of reinvention and cultural adjustment,” he reflects. “Moving around so frequently can be exhausting, yes—but also invigorating. It’s kept us flexible.”

Now recently relocated from Santa Barbara to Boca Raton, where he and Joan feel they can be most helpful, Jeremy is focused on connecting with the local art scene and finding an East Coast gallery to represent him. “Most importantly,” he adds with enthusiasm, “I eagerly anticipate opportunity’s next knock on my door.”

Jeremy’s paintings can be seen at https://www.jeremyhubball.com/. He is represented by The Fine Line Gallery in Santa Barbara.