Ted Schultheis at home in Waterbury. Photos by Josh Williams.
by Josh Williams, Vermont Business Magazine
They say a good life is like a great novel, rich with unexpected chapters, recurring characters, and plot twists you never saw coming but somehow make perfect sense in hindsight. At 95, Ted Schultheis’ story has more stamps, slopes, and storefronts than most of us could fit in two lifetimes.
Born in 1930 in the Bronx, he was raised in the salty air of Rockaway Beach Queens before attending Irving Boarding School, earning a college degree from Valparaiso University in Indiana, and an honorable discharge from the U.S. Army. By 1955, he had returned to civilian life, but not for long.
His passport would soon fill with adventures from Mexico to Paris, London to Amsterdam, leading youth hostel trips, selling telex machines for Western Union International, managing property in Manhattan, and discovering Vermont’s snowy magic, one ski run at a time.
Some moments, he says, defined everything that came after.
“Meeting my Ecuadorian roommate in boarding school changed my life. He eventually offered me my first NYC real estate job,” he recalls. “That decision shaped my career in ways I couldn’t have predicted.”
Vermont, in those early days, was a different picture.
“Wide open vistas,” he remembers. “Much of the land had been cleared; the trees have grown back naturally over time. There wasn’t as much tourism. No interstate, and a lot of Vermonters resented when it came. But development brought opportunity. It was a good thing.”
His compass in business was simple but steadfast: financial security, productivity, and smart money management.
“I wanted a productive life," he says. “If you work hard and save, you can build the freedom to take chances when they matter.”
And he did take them, like the gamble on the Stowe Street Emporium. “Downtown Waterbury had nothing at the time. We put a lot into renovations. It was a big risk.
When asked what he’d say to the next generation of Vermont entrepreneurs, he doesn’t hesitate: “Take a risk. Follow your instincts. Believe in progress. Be forward-thinking and optimistic.”
Community has always been his compass. Inspired by his partner Jack Carter’s civic involvement (serving on the select board and as justice of the peace), Ted sat on the Waterbury Area Development Committee, which encouraged town resurgence by administering loan startup funds and is still a community staple today.
“We helped launch businesses like Green Mountain Coffee Roasters and Ben & Jerry’s,” he says. “We worked on Stowe Street’s development. That’s what community means, building something together.”
Hope, he insists, is a choice. “At 95, I’m realistic about day-to-day life. But after a 41-year partnership with a wonderful, loving partner, how could I not be grateful? Sure, there are hard times. But if the worst I’ve got is a sore knee, what’s there to complain about?”
The secret to longevity? “Stay active. Be productive. Keep a positive attitude. Take risks. Hike, ski, travel, just keep moving.”
Vermont, he says, has shaped his life as much as he’s shaped his corner of it.
“People here are friendly and eager to talk. It’s civil, even in politics. The traditions, the environmental awareness, it's a special place. I was never happy in the city. Vermont feels like home.”
And as for turning 95?
“I wasn’t going to have a party,” he admits. “But friends encouraged it. I’m thankful for them. I believe in celebrating life. Live every day to the fullest. Look for the good in people.”
Today, Ted is the curator of The Wayside Pulpit for The Unitarian Church of Montpelier and a regular at the Kellogg-Hubbard Library’s weekly Spanish language lunch conversation group.
From living in New York City during the gritty, electric 1980s to skiing Vermont’s slopes, from downtown entrepreneurship to international adventure, his life is proof that the best journeys aren’t straight lines. They zig, they zag, they surprise you.
And maybe that’s the real lesson: when you follow your instincts, pack light but with purpose, and keep your heart open, you never know where the road (or the ski trail, or the Paris side street) might lead.
Josh Williams is a VermontBiz contributor. [email protected]

