September 28, 1949 - April 6, 2019

April 7, 2019

Michael L. Starr of Atlanta, GA, died April 6, 2019 following a brief illness. He was born in Roanoke, Va, to the late Rev. George and Ruby H. Starr.  He received his undergraduate degree from UNC Chapel Hill and held an MBA from Wake Forest University.  Mike’s career was in banking with Wachovia Bank, working in both Winston-Salem and Atlanta.  He was President of the Georgia Cities Foundation for 20 years, served as Chairman of the Board of Trustees of Fernbank Museum of Natural History and Chairman of the Board of Directors of The Georgia Trust for Historic Preservation.  Mike is survived by his wife Susan M. Starr of Atlanta, and brother and sister-in-law, Ed and Vicki Starr of Gastonia, NC.  In lieu of flowers, memorials may be made to The Georgia Trust for Historic Preservation, Reynolda House Museum of American Art in Winston-Salem, NC, or Hamilton Gardens at Lake Chatuge in Hiawassee, Ga.  A memorial service is being planned for a later date.

 

5/13/2019:Retiree Sam Moss wanted me to share his eulogy at Mike Starr's May 1 Celebration of Life service: <3

My name is Sam Moss and I have been a friend and colleague of Mike’s for 40 years, beginning at Wachovia in Winston-Salem in 1979.

Over the past several weeks I have heard from a number of colleagues and friends sharing thoughts about Mike. The adjectives and words that they use include: Kind, Caring, Generous, Attentive, Authentic, Conscientious, A ready smile, A True Wachovian.

Susan’s choice of the picture of Mike captures so much of him: a disarming smile, head imperceptibly cocked, and with a hint of humor in his bright blue eyes. What I would next expect him to do is to reach out and lightly touch my forearm to create a personal connection and to assure my full attention. Or Mike would steeple his hands in front of his chest and drum his fingers as he arched his eyebrows, pursed his lips and listened intently as I talked, slightly nodding. Then he would respond with details or a story. And never a brief story.

But he was always fully present and engaged and concentrating on the person in front of him.

The picture of Mike also highlights how absolutely well turned out he always was: hair trimmed, well-tailored suit or sports coat, creased pants, coordinated colors, polished shoes. And no wrinkles. Anywhere.

In fact my abiding image of Mike is when he and Susan were first dating in Winston-Salem. A more senior Wachovian had turned his backyard into a volley ball court. Sunday afternoons would frequently find a group of younger bankers, men and women, assembled and playing pick-up volleyball. The rest of us wore tennis shoes, shorts and tee shirts. Mike showed up in a long sleeve blue, button down Brooks Brothers shirt, long Khaki pants and Sperry Topsiders. This was Mike at play!

There were bigger and bolder personalities at Wachovia but Mike, by purpose and personality, never seemed to set out to draw attention to himself. His focus was other people, his colleagues around him and our customers, and being of service and attending to their needs.

Mike and Susan invited to dinner a recently minted MBA who had just joined Wachovia and knew no one in Winston Salem. Mike and Susan immediately put her at ease. She said that Mike regularly checked in with her afterwards to make sure that everything was going well.

Another young officer remembers a different dinner at Mike and Susan’s, when Mike ran the Far East section of International, and they entertained a painfully shy Taiwanese banker who spoke very little, and halting, English. For two hours, Mike deftly guided the conversation, never embarrassing his visitor and carefully explaining anything that she did not understand. It was described as a tour de force.

Mike’s understated and intentional focus on serving others, and not himself, his gentle wit and soft smile led one of our colleagues to say, “That is why we all respected, liked and admired him so much.”

As I struggled to provide a context for Mike and Wachovia, one of our former colleagues captured this ideal. “Through the years we all talked about true Wachovians, as if there was some set definition or magic formula. For me, the beauty of it was that you did not need a definition that made all Wachovians seem the same. You just knew when you saw one. Everybody knew that Mike was one. And we were all the better for it.”