Hal Russell: One-of-a-Kind

“Two men look out the same prison bars, one sees mud and the other sees stars.”
– Frederick Langbridge

 I first met Hal when he came to Aspen to build Château Snow, which upset me because I had already built three condominiums with the Château name. Hal explained to me that imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, and then asked that I manage the building.

At the same time, Hal opened his first Aspen restaurant, The Starboard Tack. He had partners and their goal was to open Starboard Tacks across the country. One day, his partners came to me and expressed how upset they were that Hal was terrible at details and the paperwork. I tried to explain to them that Hal would never be good at details and that they should hire a detail man to follow him around; Hal could make them big money by selling and being creative, not by focusing on details.

Hal was also known as The Ripper from his days playing halfback for Michigan State. His best story about his football days was the Michigan State versus Notre Dame game at South Bend. The forecast was for rain, so Hal purchased a thousand surplus army ponchos at a dollar apiece and got classmates to drive them to South Bend to sell. Saturday dawned bright and clear, and it looked like a bad investment, but just before game time a thunderstorm rolled in, and they sold the ponchos for $10 apiece. Hal was on the Michigan State varsity squad for all four years. They won a national championship and the Rose Bowl, but The Ripper never played a single down. The coach kept him on the squad because he liked him, and he was entertaining.

As his first business venture, Hal developed the concept of a high-end Mexican restaurant and opened his first Guadalaharry’s in Scottsdale, Arizona. It was an instant success and when Betty and I were married in Scottsdale, Hal threw our bridal dinner on the patio of his restaurant. With 35 guests on the patio, all went quiet when Carson Bell announced that Hal's margaritas were like “love in a canoe.” Hal bit, and asked what Carson meant. Carson answered, “they are fuckin near water.” That brought the house down and was one of the few times I ever heard anyone get the last word on Hal.

The first Guadalaharry’s was followed by restaurants in Minneapolis, Chicago, Boston, and Detroit. At this point, he sold the business and the concept to General Foods and went to work with them to open restaurants all over the country.

Hal was living high and flying around in the corporate jet when he got a little greedy and was indicted and convicted for taking kickbacks. Hal and Jerry, his attorney, were sure he would be sent to a white-collar prison. Just before Hal had to report, while at a family goodbye party, his attorney called and asked if he was sitting down. The family could only hear Hal's side of the conversation, so he greeted Jerry cheerfully and said how great it was to hear from him.

Jerry said he had called Hal to tell him that he had not gotten a white-collar prison but instead one of the toughest federal penitentiaries in the country, to which Hal replied,

 “Great news, Jerry!” so the family never had an inkling of what was going on.

Hal took a cab to the New Mexico prison dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase. The cab driver asked if he should wait for him, and Hal replied, “I don’t think so.”

We didn't hear from Hal during his prison years. Then one Sunday morning, when Betty and I were still in bed in our Ridge apartment in Snowmass, Hal appeared at our front door, he came in and sat on our bed and entertained us for two hours with tales of his prison life. I think it was the funniest two hours we ever had. The funny part was all about his year or so in the federal pen before he was transferred to a white-collar prison where he could play tennis and jog around the track.

During our days in Aspen, Hal would arrive on weekends with a different voluptuous woman every time. But once he got out of prison, he started looking at property in Corona Del Mar. Deborah saw him from her house next door and called her widowed mother to tell her that an older man driving a Mercedes was looking at the house next to hers and he must be rich, so she should rush over to meet him. Well, her mom lost out, because Deborah ended up marrying Hal.

Deborah was divorced with two young daughters. Hal told Deborah that these girls were not going to be mall rats and he started them on tennis, supporting them through the youth program in California, attending all their tournaments, and encouraging them in every way. They ended up becoming great tennis players and were good enough to compete on a level with the Williams girls. They both got full college scholarships; one to SMU, and the other to Notre Dame. The one who went to Notre Dame did exceptionally well; she won the Newt Rockne trophy twice and was voted the top athlete, male or female, her senior year.

Hal continued in the restaurant business, opening one in Scottsdale, Arizona, called Champs. He gave famous athletes a 2% free interest in the restaurant if they would allow their trophies to be put on display. He had the Heisman Trophy, the British Open Trophy, MVP awards, the Cy Young Award, Wimbledon, and many others.

Now in his 80s, Hal has finally slowed down a bit and is in an institution suffering from dementia.