Stan Caummisar saw a lot of the world before settling in Memphis on New Year's Day, 1965. A native of Louisville, Caummisar built a career as a salesman — insurance, then typewriters — that took him to Atlanta, New Orleans, Clearwater (Florida), and Dallas before he took a job in Memphis as the first branch manager for Xerox in Tennessee. It wasn't until he'd been retired eight years, though — in 1994 — that he began a second "career." Now 92, Caummisar is well into his second decade as the top volunteer salesman for the Bluff City's annual PGA tournament, the St. Jude Classic. Selling corporate ticket packages, pro-am entries, and ad space in the tournament program, Caummisar has raised more than $750,000 during his tenure. The only payment he gets: smiles and appreciation.

"A number of times," says tournament director Phil Cannon, "we've gone through the exercise of trying to identify what the perfect volunteer salesman would be, so we could recruit new ones. It's always some young guy in a growth industry, in a position of leadership, active in social circles. And Stan always blows away that model."

Caummisar was talked into joining the tournament's army of volunteers by a friend who had been doing it for years and considered the gig a perfect fit for a man who to this day plays golf four days a week. "I didn't want to," concedes Caummisar, "but he was a friend, so I had to. Turned out, I was the rookie of the year, with almost $14,000 in sales. I had never even thought about the children at St. Jude [Children's Research Hospital] until I got involved in the tournament. I wanted to support them any way I could."

Ask Caummisar about tricks of the trade and he'll tell you what most salesmen will: Make a connection. Every last one of his sales calls is over the phone. "Because I'd been retired so long, I had no business associates left," he says. "I just sat in my office and made phone calls. [My clients] are buying entertainment for their customers, ways to reward them. And the other aspect is that they're supporting the children at St. Jude."

Just don't expect a message on your answering machine from Caummisar. "Even sales reps don't answer the phone anymore," he notes. "People do not call back. I might be someone's best customer or prospect, and they're hiding behind voice mail."

Caummisar retains a sense of optimism critical for any salesperson, young or old. But he chuckles when asked about reaching one's 10th decade. "Inherit the right genes," he advises. "My father had a brother who lived to be 100 and a sister who lived to be 96."

As for his skills with a golf club, Caummisar can make a claim almost as rare as a hole-in-one, and probably more respected: He can golf his age. "I probably do it two or three times a month," he says. "Most of [my playing partners] are 85 or 86. We'll often play a scramble with three or four teams, but on Tuesdays, we play our own ball, so I know occasionally I can shoot a 92."

This month's tournament will be Caummisar's 17th as a volunteer. No need to mention the "r" word anymore. "After working 10 years [as a volunteer], I retired. Made a speech and gave all my prospects to the other fellas. But I had a change of mind. Like Douglas MacArthur said, 'Old soldiers never die; they just fade away.' "