{"id":225848,"date":"2025-09-30T10:44:07","date_gmt":"2025-09-30T17:44:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.insidephilanthropy.com\/?p=225848"},"modified":"2025-10-08T08:45:03","modified_gmt":"2025-10-08T15:45:03","slug":"meet-three-foundations-that-got-dramatically-larger-in-2023","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.insidephilanthropy.com\/home\/meet-three-foundations-that-got-dramatically-larger-in-2023","title":{"rendered":"Meet Three Foundations That Got Dramatically Larger in 2023"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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A Houston pesticide maker with a commitment to Christian causes. A psychiatric social worker whose husband earned millions as a Washington-area developer. A former nurse married to a Los Angeles bank president. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Each year, deaths cause new money to move into philanthropy. In the three cases above, the result is three foundations moving suddenly \u2014 insofar as any transfer from a multimillion-dollar estate happens quickly \u2014 into the top 1% of all grantmakers, according to Grantmakers.io.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All three philanthropies now face the challenge of rapidly scaling up their operations, in some cases from nothing at all, based on their 990s. One has never made a grant, at least as of its latest 990. The other two have some experience, but now have endowments that are four and 14 times larger, respectively. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

We will no doubt see such cases with increasing frequency as the Great Wealth Transfer accelerates, as I have written before<\/a>. An estimate from Cerulli Associates says $124 trillion<\/a> will transfer between generations by 2048 in the U.S. alone. Some share of that will land in philanthropy, birthing a whole generation of grantmakers and shifting the map of philanthropic power and possibility.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ve often profiled new or unknown billion-dollar foundations, but there are many more philanthropies that fall just below that mark, and more emerge each month. Below, I review three such institutions that were transformed by bequests in 2023 or later, and what we might expect from them in the years to come.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Stoller Foundation: Christian foundation grows big from pesticide fortune<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

For years, the Stoller Foundation<\/a> consistently granted between $2 million and $3 million annually to support Christian causes, and typically received that much or more in donations from the Stoller Group, a maker of pesticides and fertilizers. Then came the 2019 death of Jerry Stoller, the founder of both operations. In 2023, a transfer from his trust grew the foundation\u2019s endowment 14-fold, leaving it with $847 million in assets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Houston, Texas-based grantmaker will now have to get around $40 million a year out the door to meet the 5% payout requirement. The foundation\u2019s spending has risen somewhat since Stoller\u2019s death, climbing to $4.1 million in 2022 and $9 million in 2023, but it still has a long way to grow. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The foundation may need to make a switch from retail to wholesale philanthropy, as Princeton scholar Stan Katz has put it \u2014 making lots of small-scale grants versus major gifts to regrantors and large institutions. In 2023, for instance, Stoller did not make a single award above six figures. But the foundation does have expertise on hand to make that switch. Stoller not only has a compensated board \u2014 members receive $12,000 a year for their services \u2014 but several longtime paid staff. And it\u2019s not likely to operate below the radar: It even has an Instagram account<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eugene B. Casey Foundation: Maryland philanthropy of heiress who survived car bomb<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Betty Brown Casey\u2019s death in 2022 earned an obituary<\/a> in the Washington Post<\/em> for the kind of life that makes a mockery of fiction. She was a former psychiatric social worker who married a multimillion-dollar real estate developer and survived a car bomb similar to the type used \u201cin professional hits in places like Las Vegas,\u201d an expert told the paper. An anonymous relative told the paper a decade before: \u201cWho would want her dead? Just open the phone book and start with A.\u201d Perhaps that was because she moved a lot of money to philanthropy, rather than to her husband\u2019s 11 grandchildren, 10 of whom sued her for allegedly pushing her husband to cut them out of his will. She won in court.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In 2023 and 2024, Betty Casey\u2019s trust transferred nearly $287 million to the foundation, leaving it with assets of more than $397 million, four times its endowment of a few years before. In preceding years, the foundation had typically granted about $7 million annually. Now, it will need to get almost $20 million out the door each year.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The philanthropy\u2019s new assets are a boon for Washington, D.C.-area nonprofits. More than 80% of its grants in recent years have gone to organizations in Virginia, the District of Columbia and, especially, Maryland. Casey, incidentally, died in Potomac, Maryland. Recent Maryland grantees include the Olney Theater Center ($800,000, two grants), Maryland School for the Blind ($300,000) and Rebuilding Together Montgomery ($250,000). Two significant out-of-state grants were for Tampa, Florida-based Shriners Hospital for Children ($250,000) and South Bend, Indiana-based Feed the Hungry ($200,000). All awards were for general operating support.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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