“There were specific timelines on it, and there was no way to delay key parts of it, and I probably underestimated the fact that I was rather older than when I had started out,” he says.

Looking back, Rudenstine, now in his mid-60s, laughs, “I might have felt I was still 35 or even 45 or even 50, and I wasn’t any of those things.”

To many, Rudenstine’s foray into fundraising conjures up the image of a miserly Ebenezer Scrooge—a greedy businessman counting gold coins in the shadows of his office in the southwest corner of Mass. Hall.

But those who have watched Rudenstine transform Harvard from an institution with an annual operating deficit to a flourishing corporation with an endowment in excess of $19 billion disagree.

Over the years, the English poetry scholar has become a savvy businessman. But fundraising, they say, is a human process—one that requires intense persuasion and skillful interaction.

Rudenstine doesn’t ask for specific amounts of money. Rudenstine doesn’t beg. Rudenstine explains. Rudenstine muses. Rudenstine charms. And with the aid of Fineberg and Stone—the other two-thirds of the campaign’s unstoppable trio—he was damn near unstoppable.

“I’m glad that I’m not rich, because if I were rich and he asked me for money I would give it to him,” Gomes says.

In his fundraising endeavors, Vice President for Finance Elizabeth C. “Beppie” Huidekoper says, Rudenstine tries to “match an individual’s interests with the University’s needs.”

Rudenstine’s unprecedented success with the Capital Campaign allowed him to implement his vision for Harvard on a more tangible level. Rudenstine embarked on an attempt to expand and develop the campus—to truly construct a University.

For Rudenstine, the aesthetics of the University were paramount. Under his leadership, extensive renovation occurred at Harvard landmarks such as Memorial Hall and the Harvard Union. First-year residence halls and other Yard buildings underwent a five-year, $65 million overhaul. Holyoke Center and William James Hall were reconditioned, and countless new construction projects proceeded at the Business School, the Law School, the Medical School and the College.

But Rudenstine’s renovations were not a purely artistic endeavor. He carefully combined his aesthetic vision with his fundamental goal for the University—to knit the faculties together. The remodeling of the Harvard Union paved the way for a new, centralized humanities complex, The Barker Center for the Humanities. Likewise, restoration of the 140-year-old Boylston Hall brought together five other humanities departments.

As the most successful fundraising campaign in University history came to a close, the University announced that $4 million would be used to reconstruct the tower of Memorial Hall, which burned down in 1956. Though Pusey was reportedly heard saying, “Isn’t a pity it didn’t start at the bottom?” as the historic gothic tower was engulfed in flames, many saw the truncated tower as a psychic wound emblematic of a greater void within the University. Its restoration symbolized a new era of renewal, restoration and growth.

Another piece of Rudenstine history lies across the River, in Allston, where the University now owns 52 acres of land. Before Rudenstine’s arrival, the University bid for the land under a different name. But the actual deal went through under his tenure. When word leaked out that the buyer was Harvard, town-gown relations—already tenuous—spiraled downward.