Sold on The American Legion
With decades of experience in military recruiting and sales, National Commander Marty Conatser is eager to grow the nation’s largest veterans organization.
BY MATT GRILLS
Martin “Marty” Conatser is a membership guy, plain and simple.
He’ll tell you that. His friends and family will tell you that. Illinois Legionnaires – numbering nearly 129,000 thanks largely to Conatser’s efforts as the department’s first membership director – will tell you that. He’s a salesman by trade, and as national commander of The American Legion, he sees the organization as a valuable product to sell, a great deal for veterans and their families.
“We have tremendous people who give of themselves so freely, of their time and of their energy and of their money,” says Conatser, who was elected at the 89th National Convention in August. “But we often don’t tell them that they’re part of a big program. Who’s fighting right now to get soldiers the equipment and medical gear they need, and to improve the GI Bill? How many Vietnam War veterans realize that the Legion filed the suit on Agent Orange? Those are the types of things The American Legion does routinely, and we don’t tell anybody.
“Membership and membership recruiting is about helping veterans understand what the Legion is about and how easy it is to be part of our organization, which does so much good.”
Having spent most of his life in the high-pressure world of sales, Conatser knows how to make a pitch. For 21 years, as operations sergeant major for recruiting, he enlisted young men and women in the Illinois Army National Guard – “selling the military experience,” he calls it. After retiring in 1996, he went to work for The American Legion Department of Illinois, where Conatser created his dream job: membership director. In the position, he developed training programs and recruiting awards for all levels of leadership while pushing Illinois to 100 percent.
In 2002, Conatser began seriously considering a run for national commander. Recognizing he’d need a job with flexible hours and extended time off for travel – his candidacy has taken him to all 55 Legion departments and even to Iraq to visit with U.S. troops – Conatser joined Worden-Martin Auto Group in Champaign as a salesman.
“We all knew what we had right away,” says Wayne Weber, dealership president. “We decided early on we would allow him all the time off he needs to serve as national commander, because he’s so industrious anyway. When he’s here, it’s like double time for anyone else. You never have to worry about what he’s thinking or doing, because he’s always moving the ball down the field.”
Courtship and Courtside. Conatser and his wife, Sharon, own a house just minutes from the University of Illinois campus, where she works as an administrative assistant in the College of Agricultural, Consumer and Environmental Sciences. They decided together that Marty should pursue the Legion’s highest office, and his campaign was a family affair. Sharon’s father, Clayborn Lofton, chaired the campaign committee, and her mother, Irene, served as co-treasurer. Clayborn is an Illinois past department commander, and Irene is a past president of the Illinois Auxiliary.
“They think I’m the best thing that ever happened to Sharon,” Conatser jokes. The couple met through her parents in 1989, on a bus trip to the 71st National Convention in Baltimore. Both Sharon and Marty were divorced at the time, and both were already heavily involved in American Legion activities. They fell in love and married the next year. Between them, they have three sons, Richard, Rick and Bryan, and three grandchildren.
The American Legion is every bit as important to Sharon as it is her husband; she grew up attending meetings and conventions, and, like her mother, she served as Auxiliary department president. “Sometimes people think only one of you can be active in an organization, which frustrates the heck out of us,” Sharon says. “We both believe in The American Legion, as a family, and we wouldn’t be as active as we are if we didn’t believe the other one had a place to serve.”
The only activity rivaling the Legion for the Conatsers’ affections is University of Illinois sports. A magnet on their refrigerator identifies the Fighting Illini season-ticket holders as diehard fans; down the hall an entire room is stuffed with memorabilia celebrating their favorite football and basketball teams, including Chief Illiniwek statues and plates, panoramic photos from memorable games, orange-and blue pillow shams and Christmas ornaments. A light bulb hanging from the ceiling shines inside an orange football helmet. Outside, orange flowers form an “I.”
During basketball season, Conatser tunes in even when the Illini aren’t playing. “I don’t even have to know the teams,” he says. “I just enjoy watching.”
Hometown Boy. Driving through his hometown of Deland, about 20 miles west of Champaign, Conatser describes an upbringing that’s as American as apple pie. With a population of about 450, the town has never really grown and never really shrunk, because it’s a good place to live, he says. “It’s what everybody wants, a place they can remember that hasn’t changed a lot, that’s still friendly.”
Conatser’s father worked as a farmer and carpenter, and his mother raised their five children while balancing occasional jobs. As a boy, he loved baseball, and in high school he played football for two years before taking a job making resistor coils.
After graduation, Conatser worked on a local family’s farm while taking college classes. When the family sold their land, he decided to sign up for the active-duty Army National Guard program, and in 1971 he attended basic and advanced infantry training at Fort Polk, La. He ended up loving the military, particularly the challenge of recruiting, and figured since he was happy with it he might as well make the Guard his career.
About the same time, Conatser began to get involved at American Legion Lincoln Post 102 in Deland. He’d been a member for years, but when he attended a post meeting to seek support for the local Little League, he got a whole lot more than new uniforms. “When I left that night, I was the post commander,” he says.
Again, Conatser had stumbled upon an unintentional career course, this one in The American Legion. Since 1982, he’s leapfrogged from one Legion leadership position to another, including district, division and department commander. Nationally, he has served on the Veterans Planning and Coordinating Committee, and as chairman of the Membership & Post Activities Committee, as well as the Legislative Commission.
Along the way, Conatser has taken time to mentor and encourage younger Legionnaires. One of them is Chuck Zelinsky, a member of the National Public Relations Commission and past department historian for Illinois.
“When Marty was elected state commander, I was on the stage to hear his speech, and right then I knew I had more to give to the Legion, and I wanted to,” he says. “Since then, I’ve become active in the organization. He’s been my installing officer twice, when I was post commander and when I was county commander. He inspires me, so I look forward to his leadership this year as national commander.”
Good Old Days. Ever the optimist, Conatser isn’t one to lament for yesterday’s American Legion. He’d rather talk about the bright future he sees ahead. “We’ll always like to reminisce about
what was,” he says. “Well, I’m making my good old days today.”
As for young Legionnaires and increasing their involvement, Conatser can only remember what it was like for himself, for many years a member but not all that active until later years.
“Many of us have forgotten that at 25 or 30 we didn’t have much extra money or time,” he says. “We were trying to raise our families. When we get that young veteran, we need to realize that he’s not going to be down at the post one night a week doing the work of The American Legion right now. We need to try to get him or her to come help us on one program a year and keep his membership up. There will come a time when he can be more active in the organization.”
Some posts are already trying a more family-oriented outreach, with youth soccer, child care and Scout sponsorship acting as magnets.
“Instead of talking about what your membership does for you and for your fellow veteran, we’re saying, ‘Oh no, it costs $4.50 more,’” he says, shaking his head. “That’s not a six-pack of pop. It just doesn’t mean anything. All the time I talk to people who say they don’t know if they get anything out of it. And I ask them, ‘Would you give $25 a year to an organization dedicated to helping children and veterans?’ Most of them say yeah, they’d donate $25. That’s your dues, folks. If you never step foot in an American Legion post, that’s your dues.
“We’re spending too much time on the cost of membership when we should be talking about the value of membership. We should be selling the fact that what we do is the right thing for America. We’re selling the good things we do for other veterans and their families. People stood up and protected our benefits without us even knowing it, and now we’re doing the same for the next generation of veterans. We have to let them know that’s what we’re doing. That’s when we’ll succeed.”
Matt Grills is an associate editor at The American Legion Magazine.
Top Ten Things You Don’t Know About Marty Conatser
His 26-year military career wasn’t planned; he just enjoyed recruiting for the Illinois Army National Guard. Then one day he woke up and realized he’d put in 12 years. “At that point I figured I could do the next eight standing on my head,” he says.
His wife, Sharon, feared he’d get them killed at a 1998 college basketball game – specifically, Indiana University vs. University of Illinois at Assembly Hall in Bloomington, Ind. Moments before IU Coach Bob Knight was ejected for berating referee Ted Valentine, Conatser – wearing blue and orange, and sitting as a guest in the heavy-donor section – stood up and yelled, “Throw the jerk out!”
He’s not a coffee drinker. His preferred morning beverage is Diet Pepsi.
Every year, he and a close friend – Illinois Department Commander Myron Kirby – take the longest and most circuitous route they can find to the Legion’s national convention. Along the way, they drop in on local posts.
He’s a Chicago White Sox fan, because the team offers free admission to members of the U.S. military.
His favorite food is Italian. His least favorite? Chinese.
Twice a year, he travels north to Wisconsin to go snowmobiling. In 1977, a friend invited him, and he got hooked. “I don’t give it up for anybody,” he says.
He’s a cancer survivor. Years ago, driving back from visiting his cancer-stricken brother in New Orleans, Conatser got a call confirming he too had it. He’s now cancer-free, and he considers it the most difficult challenge he’s ever faced.
He and Sharon are tailgating fanatics, and their University of Illinois football parties are legendary. For 11 o’clock games, they fix breakfast before and eat lunch afterward. For 1 o’clock games, it’s lunch before and a snack later. Anywhere from six to 60 people show up.
He and his younger brother, Wayne, used to drag race. As the “C&C Boys,” they drove several cars, including a ’67 red and white Camaro, while competing on the Midwest circuit. They even got a mention in Hot Rod magazine.
