Your typical county bureaucrat probably won’t be ed for his ability to don a sheep costume and sing a parody song to a room full of his colleagues.
But to those who knew him, Walt Ekard wasn’t a typical bureaucrat.
The county’s longtime top executive — he was chief istrative officer for 13 years — knew how to balance a sense of humor, a strong work ethic and steadfast leadership, his friends and former colleagues say.
So while his turn as the “Singing Fleece” at the San Diego County Taxpayers Association’s annual Golden Fleece Awards dinners — where the group roasted local officials for missteps — was pure entertainment, it was also pure Ekard.
“He helped regional public officials recognize that it was OK to reflect on your mistakes and weaknesses, have a good laugh, learn from those mistakes and move forward,” said Lani Lutar, the former head of the Taxpayers Association.
Ekard, who spent 35 years in public service, died April 25 at 71, after a five-year battle with pancreatic cancer.
Through each turn of his career, Ekard was described by friends and former colleagues as having a deep sense of integrity and a guiding set of principles in the decisions he made.
“He would center us on ‘What is the right thing to do">
As CAO from 1999 to 2012, Ekard managed the county’s day-to-day operations and its then roughly $5 billion budget, guiding the region through economic challenges and was known for his stewardship of the county’s finances, including pushing back against state-mandated but unfunded programs.
Following his tenure at the county, Ekard was brought on to serve as the city of San Diego’s chief operating officer after then-Mayor Bob Filner was accused of sexual harassment and resigned.
Scott Chadwick, who became chief operating officer after Ekard, says he was “a giant among mortals in the public istration world” — tapped to steer the city’s ship because he had gained such reverence. The two worked together to keep up the city’s maintenance and restore trust in local government, Chadwick said.
“He had a unique ability to analyze the situation calmly and rationally and come up with a strategic approach to deal with it,” he added.
Though Ekard left the public sector to start a consulting business, he returned in 2016 to work with then-county Supervisor Greg Cox in his role as president of the National Association of Counties.
But Ekard believed skills from the private sector could impact the public sector. In 1997, he hired Helen Robbins-Meyer, who at the time had been working in defense contracting, as deputy chief istrative officer. Robbins-Meyer would go on to serve as CAO herself for about a decade, before retiring last year.
His interest in bringing people into the fold and helping the next generation of leaders was evident — from students at San Diego State University, where he taught public istration courses, to the people he mentored at the county and city.
“I know that I wouldn’t be able to be where I am today without him,” said Vince Kattoula, a student of Ekard’s at SDSU who later went on to work for the county before starting his own land-use consulting business.
Kattoula re the real-world experience that Ekard highlighted in his lectures. The classes were structured around the news of the day, and Ekard would require students to read the Union-Tribune and come to class prepared for a weekly quiz on current events.
Those like Kattoula who counted Ekard as a mentor said he had a unique ability to teach without condescension, and to make people feel like they were working together to solve problems.
Kevin Crawford, a former Carlsbad fire chief and city manager, met with Ekard after the 2003 Cedar Fire, when he and other local fire officials wanted to see the county take a more active role in fire prevention. Crawford says the meetings were contentious, but Ekard was always cordial yet firm.
Ekard took him in as a mentee, and the two would get lunch each month to talk about government leadership.
“He had such an incredible way of bringing you along without you knowing that he was bringing you along,” Crawford said. “It was phenomenally powerful to me.”
Born Dec. 12, 1953, Ekard grew up in Spring Valley and attended Mount Miguel High School, where he wrote for the sports section of his school newspaper. (Ekard was an avid Dodgers fan, despite his local upbringing.)
He turned down a scholarship to study journalism at the University of Connecticut in favor of studying history at SDSU, and he went on to earn a law degree from University of San Diego — though he never practiced.
After graduating, he became a policy aide to then-Supervisor Paul Fordem in 1981 and later the chief of staff to then-Supervisor Brian Bilbray.
Over the years, Ekard and his wife, Pam, raised three daughters in East County.
His eldest daughter, Brittany Rankin, says her dad was her best friend. When she was growing up, she recalls, he nearly always made it home for dinner, even after a busy day.
“For being as effective as he was in his work … he was just dad,” she says. “He was always there, always available to us.”
Ekard went on to manage the Rancho Santa Fe Association for nine years, before heading to the county as assistant CAO in 1996. In 1999, he was appointed chief istrative officer.
Ekard oversaw county operations through a changing time.
He took over in the midst of the county’s transition to outsourcing its IT services, re former supervisor Greg Cox. And he carried the county through the unknowns of Y2K, even staying late at the office on Dec. 31, 1999, to make sure the systems carried over into the new millennium.
It was not always smooth sailing.
The county’s 2004 rollout of a new electronic-ballot voting system was so troubled, with a glitch that prevented timely processing, that Ekard later called it “the worst moment of my career.”
There was a national outcry when the county asked a Bonita family to obtain a permit to hold a Bible study in their home. (Officials later backed down.)
And there was also a mostly friendly rivalry between the city and the county, said former city employees Trudy Sopp and Jack McGrory. Both said they were jealous of Ekard and the county — which they say didn’t face the same problems they did.
Then there was the singing.
“He would sing songs at every post he went to,” said McGrory, laughing. “What the hell kind of manager sings songs?”
A ionate one, apparently — Ekard was ionate about music. “The Phantom of the Opera” was his favorite musical, and he would often break out into “The Impossible Dream” by Andy Williams.
He knew he was a good singer, said Ekard’s friend Jim Minor.
But otherwise, he was humble and gave credit to his staff more often than not. And when they made mistakes, his colleagues said he would take responsibility and make it a teaching moment.
“He would take the hits when we would make mistakes, and he would throw us back in the arena,” said Robbins-Meyer.
“‘You’re never gonna make (that mistake) again,’” Ekard would say to her, adding, “‘Now get back out there and go do something good.’”
Ekard is survived by his wife, Pam, their three daughters — Brittany, 44, Megan, 40, and Jessica, 36 — along with six grandchildren, his mother, June, and his brother Brian, 69, and sister Melody, 63.
In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be sent to the Walt Ekard Endowed Scholarship at SDSU’s School of Public Affairs to help students pursuing public service.
