William Wrigley, Jr. — Profile in Open Hearts Leadership (#18)
by Chris McCusker Ph.D.
Chewable Optimism: William Wrigley Jr. and the Power of Lagniappe
William Mills Wrigley Jr., born in Philadelphia on September 30, 1861¹, learned the ropes of sales early. By age 13, he was selling his soap-maker father's product door-to-door, a formative experience that taught him two enduring lessons: listen hard, and always overdeliver.
The $32 Gamble: Roots of a Chicagoan
At 29, in 1891, Wrigley, along with his wife Ada and infant daughter Dorothy, made a bold move. With just $32, he packed up and relocated to Chicago to start his own soap business². Why Chicago? The city was dynamic, bustling with energy as it rebounded from the Great Fire and prepared for the 1893 World's Fair³. It was a place brimming with industry and possibility, where Wrigley felt truly alive.
It was in this vibrant Chicago that the story of lagniappe began. While the term originated in New Orleans, describing a gift you didn't pay for, a little something extra, it perfectly encapsulated Wrigley's emerging business philosophy¹⁴. Initially, he offered baking powder as a lagniappe—a bonus given with his scouring soap. But customers kept asking for more of the baking powder.
Wrigley, ever the listener, pivoted. He launched his own brand of baking powder. And again, he included a lagniappe: sticks of chewing gum. This gum, intended as a mere thank-you gift, an unexpected delight, quickly became the star. People liked the gum more than the baking powder.
This was a pivotal moment, not just for Wrigley's business, but in revealing his true genius. It showcased his humility to recognize that his initial product wasn't "the thing," his courage to admit it, and his imagination to try something new. He didn't invent chewing gum, but he mastered the art of making it unforgettable by leaning into what people truly loved. He built his entire business around the concept of overdelivering, transforming a freebie into an empire.
Wrigley's leadership was a blend of "Love"—delighting customers and honoring their feedback—and "Truth"—listening intently and adjusting swiftly. This generosity, rooted in his Quaker upbringing and sharpened by Chicago's resilient, working-class spirit, became his compass. Chicago, with its belief in grit and rebirth, its ability to find joy even in adversity, provided the perfect soil for him to grow. William Wrigley Jr. didn't just arrive in Chicago; he became Chicago. His journey, from a $32 gamble to a gum empire, stands as a testament to the power of a listening ear and lagniappe — a generous spirit.
Tell 'Em Again
In late 1920s, banks were folding. Unemployment was brutal. Companies were slashing advertising budgets to survive the storm.
But not William Wrigley Jr.
When others pulled back, he leaned in. Doubled down, in fact. He spent more on ads. More on slogans. More on reminding the American people—despite breadlines and broken spirits—that there was still such a thing as a simple pleasure.
His answer to economic collapse? A three-word mantra: "Tell 'em again."
He believed in the product. But more than that, he believed in people. He believed that even in the hardest of times, people needed something small to hold on to—something ordinary that felt familiar and good.
That’s why Wrigley gum ads didn’t scream desperation. They whispered encouragement.
He didn’t pretend the Depression wasn’t real. He just refused to accept that reality meant retreat.
He understood what most executives missed: that growth doesn’t always mean expansion—sometimes, it means resilience. Holding firm. Showing up. Reminding people of what lasts.
Wrigley wasn’t pushing gum. He was offering comfort. Predictability.
Chewable optimism.
"Tell 'em again" wasn’t just a marketing slogan. It was a philosophy. When the world goes dark, remind people of the light. And do it again. And again.
A Ballpark of Belonging
Wrigley didn’t just reshape the gum aisle—he helped reshape the soul of a city through baseball.
In 1916, Wrigley became a minority investor in the Chicago Cubs, then owned by Charles Weeghman⁴. By 1918, he had become the majority owner⁵. He didn’t initially build the Cubs’ ballpark—Weeghman Park opened in 1914—but by 1926, it was renamed Wrigley Field in his honor⁶.
The famous outfield ivy? That wasn’t added until 1937, after his death, under the direction of team executive Bill Veeck⁷. But the vision of making baseball personal and welcoming—that was pure Wrigley. He prioritized clean facilities, friendly service, and family-friendly entertainment. The idea that baseball could be a civic ritual, not just a sporting event, shaped his entire ownership.
Wrigley Field became known as “The Friendly Confines.” Not because it was luxurious or modern—but because it felt like home. Even in the middle of a metropolis, it radiated intimacy and tradition.
Wrigley invited the city in—not just to watch baseball, but to belong. He made the Cubs part of Chicago’s civic DNA. Win or lose, the team was cherished. People came with kids and grandparents. They came during losing streaks and droughts. They came for the experience, not just the outcome.
Wrigley’s character—his optimism, accessibility, and care—shaped the team’s identity. Though Harry Caray’s seventh-inning singalongs came decades later, Wrigley set the tone that made such rituals possible.
He lived on Chicago’s Gold Coast⁸, but his spirit lived in the bleachers. When he died on January 26, 1932⁹, at his home on Catalina Island, the city mourned not just a businessman, but a civic builder.
A Little Extra: Catalina
William Wrigley Jr. didn’t stop with gum or baseball. In 1919, he purchased a controlling interest in Santa Catalina Island, off the coast of California¹⁰. What began as a retreat became another stage for his unique philosophy of lagniappe—a little extra.
He developed the island with care and vision. He built the famous Catalina Casino, promoted tourism, constructed public utilities, and introduced infrastructure improvements that turned the island into a vibrant getaway. Just as he did in Chicago, Wrigley treated people not as consumers, but as guests.
He also ensured that development didn’t come at the cost of nature. Wrigley instituted conservation efforts and helped preserve large portions of the island’s natural landscape. Today, thanks to the Wrigley family's foresight, 88% of Catalina Island is protected through the Catalina Island Conservancy.
Even in his death, Wrigley gave something back. His remains were initially interred in a tower above Avalon Bay, and later moved to the Wrigley Memorial Garden—his final lagniappe to the people and places he loved.
A Spirit Called Optimism
Wrigley’s life stands as a case study in leadership powered by listening, generosity, and unwavering belief in human potential. The Open Hearts Leadership framework speaks of Love and Truth—of dignity, well-being, growth, reality, vulnerability, and honesty. William Wrigley Jr. embodied them all. But he brought something more.
In Louisiana, they call it lagniappe. A little extra.
Wrigley’s version of lagniappe wasn’t just the gum—it was his whole approach to life and leadership. He added beauty to ballparks, warmth to corporate strategy, and joy to small moments. His leadership wasn’t loud or performative. It was consistent, imaginative, and anchored in trust.
Optimism isn’t one of the formal pillars of Open Hearts Leadership. But in Wrigley’s hands, it became a kind of spiritual glue—holding together everything else. In times of uncertainty, he didn't just believe things would work out. He helped them work out.
That optimism still lives in Chicago. It lives in the rhythm of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame,” the smell of fresh-cut ivy, the laughter in the bleachers. It lives in the way people still hand out gum like a smile. It’s in every little lagniappe—a reminder that leadership, at its best, gives more than it takes.
Wrigley didn't just make gum. He made people believe.
Endnotes & Sources
¹ Encyclopædia Britannica. “William Wrigley Jr.”
² Encyclopedia.com. “William Wrigley Jr. Biography.”
³ Chicago History Museum. “Prelude to the World’s Columbian Exposition, 1893.”
⁴ Society for American Baseball Research (SABR). “William Wrigley Jr. and the Cubs.”
⁵ Chicago Tribune, Jan 1918 ownership report.
⁶ Wrigley Field: A Decade‑by‑Decade History. Chicago Cubs Archives.
⁷ Veeck, B. (1962). Veeck—As in Wreck. University of Chicago Press.
⁸ Chicago Architecture Center. “Wrigley Mansion (410 N. Michigan).”
⁹ The New York Times, Jan 27 1932, “William Wrigley Jr. Dies at 70.”
¹⁰ Catalina Island Museum. “Wrigley’s Vision for Catalina.”
¹⁴ Lagniappe (pronounced LAN‑yap) is a Louisiana French word—via Spanish la ñapa and Quechua yapa—meaning a small, unexpected gift. Mark Twain popularized the term in Life on the Mississippi (1883). It captures Wrigley’s habit of giving “a little extra,” whether baking powder, gum, or civic joy.
About the Author
Chris McCusker, Ph.D. is Founder of the Open Hearts Leadership Project based on Maui. His forthcoming book on Open Hearts Leadership explores the power of love and truth in business and society. He is available for remote executive coaching and speaking engagements on a variety of topics including leadership, teamwork and conflict management.
Statement of AI Contrubtion
Google’s Gemini 2.5 Pro and Open AI’s Chat GPT-4o assisted with background research, fact-checking and editing feedback. The human leader takes full responsibility for any errors.