As students, Gavin Campbell, MBA ’89, and John Hartner, MBA ’89, rehabbed a historic home to build equity. They ended up building a 40-year friendship too.
- By
- September 23, 2026
- Community
A Solid Foundation
Gavin Campbell, MBA ’89, lives in the Wicker Park neighborhood of Chicago, only a couple of blocks from the three-flat he and John Hartner, MBA ’89, bought 40 years ago as Evening MBA students.
“We were already paying a lot in tuition,” Hartner says. “I told Gavin, ‘Let’s at least buy something and build some equity.’”
Wicker Park in the late 1980s was gritty, and housing costs were low—nothing like the gentrified, tony neighborhood it is today. The price tag for the multifamily unit on Pierce Avenue was $280,000, less than a quarter of what it’s worth now. (They sold it in 2023 for $1,380,000.)
“People later told us we were visionaries,” Campbell says with a laugh. “But we bought there because it was the only place a mortgage broker would give us a loan.” The two lived in the “penthouse,” as Campbell calls it, and they rented out the two units below it. “That gave me an entire career,” he says. “I spent 40 years in real estate private equity because of that three-flat.”
Meanwhile, Hartner focused his career on industrial technology, with leadership roles across Asia, Europe, and the United States.
Chicago Booth Magazine spoke to Campbell and Hartner about their life as Booth students and the keys to their long friendship.
How did the two of you meet?
John Hartner: We met in our very first class in the Evening MBA Program. It was accounting with Roman Weil, who was legendary. He taught using the Socratic method and knew every page of the textbook because he wrote it. Gavin and I happened to sit next to each other.
I was working full time at Rockwell Automation and commuting down from Milwaukee. Gavin had an extra bunk in his apartment in Lincoln Park, and after class we’d sometimes grab a beer. Driving all the way back to Milwaukee afterward wasn’t much fun, so I’d crash at his place. That’s how the friendship really started.
Gavin Campbell: I had ulterior motives. John was clearly the smartest guy in the class, and I was struggling. I figured, “This guy needs a place to stay, and I need all the help I can get.” It turned out to be a pretty good alliance.
John was the engineer. I was the philosophy major. He could do the quantitative work effortlessly. I could write a paper. We complemented each other right from the beginning.
“The building itself was fascinating. Restoring it and creating three great living spaces was incredibly satisfying.”
— John Hartner
What were your first impressions of each other?
Hartner: Gavin was a genuinely principled guy. He was smart, easygoing, and fun to be around. At that stage of life, you’re working full time, going to school full time, and trying to have some sort of social life. You don’t spend a lot of time analyzing people. You just know whether somebody’s good company, and Gavin was.
Campbell: My impression hasn’t changed much in 40 years. John is exactly who he appears to be. He’s incredibly bright, but he also has a very high emotional intelligence. He grew up in a tough area outside Pittsburgh and learned how to connect with people from every walk of life. He has this incredible energy and optimism that makes people want to be around him.
Hartner: And Gavin is one of the most ethical and good-hearted people I’ve ever met. That was true then, and it’s true now.
What was life like in the apartment?
Campbell: We were too busy to get on each other’s nerves. In addition to school and work, we were renovating a three-flat—there wasn’t much idle time.
Hartner: The building itself was fascinating. We think it may originally have been built as a residence for a brewery owner. At some point, it had been carved up into multiple apartments. Restoring it and creating three great living spaces was incredibly satisfying.
Wicker Park in the 1980s had a reputation for being a little eccentric. What do you remember most vividly about life there in those years?
Campbell: The neighborhood characters. That’s what stands out. There was Sophie’s Busy Bee, where we’d get all the pierogies we could eat for $3 every Friday night. Sophie used to call us the Millionaires Club because we’d be there with the other neighborhood eccentrics eating the cheapest meal in town. It was sort of like Switzerland. The gangsters, misfits, artists, grunge musicians, and MBA students all ate at the same counter together.
Hartner: I remember sitting outside at the Get Me High Lounge, a jazz club, on summer nights, drinking cheap beer and listening to incredible music. The furniture on the patio was basically old ripped-out car seats.
There was a raw authenticity to the neighborhood. It brought people together.
Is there one story that captures what the neighborhood was like back then?
Campbell: There was a “post-punk” bar in the neighborhood called Club Dreamerz where we’d go to listen to early-career grunge bands and artists like Veruca Salt, Liz Phair, and Billy Corrigan. Even Nirvana played unplugged there one night. On off days they hosted something called Acro-Rat Night. And yes, it was exactly what it sounds like.
Hartner: People hear that and think we’re making it up.
Campbell: We’re not. There was a woman who trained rats to perform acrobatic routines. We’d go down there and watch these rats doing what was basically a trapeze act.
Hartner: It sounds completely ridiculous today, but at the time it fit right into the neighborhood. Wicker Park was full of artists, musicians, oddballs, and characters. Nothing really surprised you.
“I can be inclined to see the glass as half empty. John has spent 40 years reminding me that things are usually going to be OK. That’s a gift.”
— Gavin Campbell
Did you ever have any serious disagreements as roommates?
Hartner: The only thing that genuinely bothered me was Gavin’s habit of leaving half-eaten bowls of Lucky Charms in the sink for days at a time.
Campbell: That’s fair.
At what point did the friendship become something more like family?
Campbell: It happened gradually. When you’ve built something together—not just a friendship but a business, a home, memories, and experiences—you realize the relationship is rare. Eventually that naturally extends to your family.
John became godfather to one of my daughters. I’m godfather to one of his children. Those aren’t decisions you make lightly.
Hartner: Exactly. Gavin is such a high-character person that choosing him as a godfather was easy. When your children are young, it’s one thing. Later, when they become adults, a godparent can have conversations that kids don’t necessarily want to have with their parents. That role becomes important too.
How has your friendship lasted more than four decades?
Hartner: Authenticity. There has never been any need to pretend with each other. We’ve seen each other through successes, failures, raising kids, losing loved ones, and major life transitions.
Even as time passes, when we get together, it feels like there’s never a gap at all.
Campbell: One thing I’ve always admired about John is his optimism. No matter what happens, his instinct is to believe things will work out.
I can be inclined to see the glass as half empty. John has spent 40 years reminding me that things are usually going to be OK. That’s a gift.
What do you mean to each other today?
Hartner: Today it’s less about the day-to-day stuff and more about the big things: family, loss, and life decisions. When something truly matters, you want advice from someone who understands where you’re coming from and who has earned your trust over decades. That’s what Gavin is for me.
Campbell: I often think about the fact that John convinced me to buy that three-flat. That one decision ultimately led to my career in real estate. But honestly, that’s not the most important thing.
As you get older, you realize how rare lasting friendships really are. There aren’t many people in life you can count on unconditionally. John is one of those people. That’s what 40 years of friendship looks like.
Roman L. Weil was the V. Duane Rath Professor Emeritus of Accounting before his death in 2023.
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