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The Mott Foundations

Finding Charles S. Mott led to foundations in the Flint Michigan area. We have the Charles Stewart Mott, Stewart Rawlings Mott, Ruth Mott and the Foundation setup by Maryanne Mott Warsh. I would like to visit these foundations, learn move about its working and relationship with the Democratic Party. I work with and support the Kansas Democratic Party in multiple ways. It makes me wonder if my involvement has a coincidence with working with the descendants of Adam Mott. Contact would certainly not address money but the influential power that comes with the name. God knows we need it in Kansas.


I don't know and I don't know if I should care since I'm no longer a Mott.

YMCA leads to finding Charles Stewart Mott

As I let the YMCA guide me, I found Charles Stewart Mott. Charles who started Buick could be a reason why I'm compelled to the Buick Car Line. Charles was on the board at GM for 60 years and was very active in civic organizations.

Is it the Mott/Buick relationship or merely another coincidence?

Is working with a progressive Democratic Party in Kansas have anything to do with the Mott Democrats. Did my political blood have a correlation to my interest in working with Democrats and a progressive organization. It seems so natural. You truly can't understand politics and the world economy unless its in your blood.

I would like to visit with a lady named Maryanne Mott Warsh.

I don't know and I don't know if I should care since I'm no longer a Mott.

Learned more about Motts by researching another family.

Reputation of my work has led me to a variety of people, companies and government. All have been a unique experience working throughout the United States. In the mid 1980's I was asked to go to 30 Rock. Since I personally did not know any of the family members I went to the library and started to study who is whom. At that point in time the Internet and the world wide web were not an option. I had to find references in hard print. In other words, I had quite a stack of books. As I started my research on John, I found a good friend of his John R. Mott. I had to find out about this Mott. A founder of the YMCA, a layman, dabbled in politics, good friends with Rockefeller. I wondered if my trip, a confidential one, had anything to do with past family members. I'm ordained, but more of a layman's position. Is this merely coincidence? I dabble in politics too, you can't help being involved in one way or another. A trait of past Motts?

I don't know and I don't know if I should care since I'm no longer a Mott.

I tried hard, did the best I could and was ready to make the BIG bucks.

All of the efforts one makes to go from rags to riches was in my personality. I worked hard as a youth, after school and weekends. I worked for peanuts but was still able to purchase what I wanted: motorcycles, mustang (even though I really wanted a Buick Riviera) and clothes I wanted to buy. Education was relative easy. However, I came in as number 2, the salutatorian rather than the valedictorian. I was tested for computer programming in 1972. By the time I was 18 I had a computer job long before my vocational training class was over. Finishing the class in half of the scheduled time, making more money in my first year than those who raised me and having higher business goals were considered personal goals. By 1975 I married my high school sweetheart and we were ready to take on the world. By 1977 I started my own business and bought my first home. Although a modest house, the house had an assumable loan and was a good investment. Then came as many material things a 21 year old housewife would need and of course, what to me was the fanciest car I ever owned. It wasn't a Buick but the equivalent was much better. A divorce changed the route to success. I went from owning my own business and went to work for others. I didn't have to pay as much in taxes so I could justify making the change. In reality it was a defeat. But you pick yourself back up and start again. Not making it the first time was no reason to stop trying. Still, I was working for another, bringing in revenue that was more than a million dollars a year and was making someone else rich. I was getting a reputation for the type of work I did but bringing in the revenue for myself became distorted.

I learned about what you need to survive and what you want are two completely different lifestyles.

The riches of the Motts can do great things. But Once a Mott now not, led to having no relationships with the Motts. I had to start from the beginning, experience the risk and knowing what it is like when you are the #2 slot, nothing more than a pawn for the richest of the rich. Charles Mott changed that perception. I would like to visit with Maryanne Mott Warsh. I would like to meet a successful Mott even though a Mott I am not.

Blood is thicker than water and genetic problems go with it.

The Mott's have a genetic flaw that has been passed down by the generations. The blood I have was doomed from birth. To this day there is not a cure for the illness I inherited. I found out my grandfather had it, someone who was called Uncle Henry who lived upstairs and rarely came out of his room, my biological father and his sister, my brother and all of my first cousins. We are all on the same type of medication and try to stay in a recovery process. Regretfully, the disease is too strong to overcome. I had all the symptoms of a brain tumor causing the left side of my body to go numb. Neurologists were baffled until they learned about my genetic flaw. The disease has grown stronger in me, making me weaker. Everyday requires a cocktail of drugs that puts me out for 2 to 3 hours a day. It hurts. I take the medication at night too. It hurts sometimes but isn't like the morning dose. Its like being forced in to hell 3 - 4 hrs per day. From the perspective of the Bible and myself being ordained its "paying for the sins of your father." So be it. I hope the price that I pay on a daily reconciles the actions of the past.

But to the World I am a Mott, who is now not.

A Mott now Not

I was born a Mott in Wichita, KS. My parents divorced when I was three. Dad Mott went to Sacramento California, his favorite place. Mom went back to where her parents lived. She worked for an oil company and "had" to raise her two boys all by herself. Being divorced had a label in the late 1950's, but she was one of them. Oh, those poor Mott boys. Growing up without a father. Sitting in the front pew of the church every Sunday since Mom sang in the choir. I was 3 going on 4 and my brother was 3 years my elder. I have early memories that started when I was 2 going on 3. I don't know or why these memories have stayed with me. They just did. My Grandpa Mott died when I was of young age. I was able to visit and go places with Grandpa Mott in the neatest car I had ever seen. He smoked using a cigarette holder that I thought was really cool, something I would want to do when I grew up. Grandpa Mott had a stroke and was kept at home in a hospital bed until his death. At that point in time I had a feeling that I would bury my father even though I knew him not.

My Grandma Mott would tell me stories of her side of the family, who moved to Little River but very little of nothing about being a Mott. So be it.

Life went by. I was in my late 40's when a blood cousin came out of the woodwork to let me know my father was dieing. He was in the Veteran's Hospital in Wichita. He was easy to spot in a ward of the hospital as he looked like me. Or was it I who looked like him. It took a few visits before he understood who I was. I'm certain he thought I was chaplain. Since I was ordained I let our conversations go as such. I asked if he had children. Yes, he said he had two boys and could tell you their birthdays. In subsequent visits he understood that I was one of his boys. I wonder how many have had to visit their biological fathers while in the hospital without their father having a clue of who this stranger was who came to visit. It confirmed what was always in the back of my mind. I would be the one to bury him, Bob Mott. It was made so.

Going back to my life, my mother remarried. I was all for being adopted by my step-father for one and only one reason. The lunch line. Being an M put me near the back of the line. My best friend's last names started with B and C. If I became a C that would put me between two of my best friends. At the age of 10 this was a chance of a lifetime, move up in the lunch line order and being next to my best friends. There was absolutely no other reason for agreeing to change my last name.

Little did I know that all of the documentation of being a Mott was changed when I was adopted. I had no rights or privileges of a Mott. It took filing for his life insurance to find out what I was not, a Mott.