Swimming to Antarctica_ Tales of a Long-Distance Swimmer - Lynne Cox [103]
Then a call came from the office of Steve Cowper, the governor of Alaska. Governor Cowper offered to send a letter of endorsement for the project to Soviet officials in Siberia, as well as to the Soviet embassy in Washington, D.C., and to the coast guard. Now there were people in Washington, Seattle, Moscow, Alaska, and Siberia working toward the same objective. One of my largest concerns, though, was how I was going to pay for this.
For years I had continued trying to secure sponsorship from large U.S. corporations, but I had not gotten anywhere. It was very discouraging. Didn’t they understand what it would mean to open a market with something like 286 million Soviets? And maybe through this swim, not only American projects could pass through Soviet borders, but also American ideas and ideals. Maybe this could be a way to further bridge the distance between the two countries.
I didn’t know the right people in high places in corporate America. Because of support I’d received from Coca-Cola on my around-the-world swim in Iceland and, later, in Japan, I decided to go to Coca-Cola headquarters and try to make contact on my own. I flew to Atlanta not knowing how I was ever going to meet with Mr. Goizueta, the CEO of Coke, but I had to try. I had tried calling but I had gotten nowhere, so I hoped that appearing in Atlanta in person would help me meet with him.
When I got to the entrance to the Coca-Cola building, I had no idea how I was going to get inside. I didn’t have an appointment and I didn’t know anyone there, but I did have letters of reference from Iceland and Japan, as well as newspaper clippings.
As I paused outside the building, a young man said, “Oh, you must have forgotten your employee pass. Here, let me help you.” He slid his card into the electronic lock.
There must have been at least ten women sitting side by side in a receptionist bay at the entrance to the international division. One kind woman in her thirties with chestnut brown hair looked up and gave me a big smile. “May I help you?”
The way she looked at me, I knew she meant that she did want to help. So I explained to her why I needed to see the head of Coca-Cola. She was very impressed and picked up the phone to call his secretary. The secretary wouldn’t let me see him. The receptionist kept working on her, but she could not gain entrée. I was visibly disappointed. I couldn’t help it; it seemed like it would work. The receptionist got an inspiration and called the vice president of the international division. He met with me, and he liked the idea, so he brought in his assistant, who had been a swimmer for the Spanish National Team. But this man was totally opposed to it. He had certain money earmarked for his own project, and he didn’t want any of it going anywhere else. So they wished me well, and I flew off to meet with two editors at National Geographic, William Graves and Tom Smith. I had written to them off and on since 1976. By 1987, they’d said they were very interested in the swim. They had flown me to Washington to meet with them over lunch. I was ecstatic and hopeful that they would embrace the project; ever since I was seven years old I had been looking at the pictures in and reading National Geographic. What a privilege it was to meet the top editors at the magazine. I hoped that