WHERE ARE THEY NOW?
Anyone who's ever been in the spotlight knows fame is a fickle friend. What ever became of Nabisco's Ross Johnson, for example? Or People Express founder Donald Burr? Or insider trader Dennis Levine? We tracked down 11 of these once household names--most of whom haven't spoken to the press in years--to find out what they've been up to.
By BARNEY GIMBEL

(FORTUNE Magazine) – Bill Agee, 67, and Mary Cunningham Agee, 53

CORPORATE LOVERS

It was 1980 when the two lost their jobs after starring in business's steamiest soap opera. He was the young, married CEO of Bendix Corp. She was his smart executive assistant whom he promoted very quickly. Married since 1982, they live in Napa Valley and no longer work in corporate America. They've spent much of their time home-schooling their two kids, now 19 and 17--"Mary was the teacher, and I was the principal and the janitor," says Bill. He now mentors young entrepreneurs. Mary runs the Nurturing Network, a nonprofit she founded after she had a miscarriage in 1984, which counsels women in crisis pregnancies that abortion is not the only option. "I have a gift born from my own heartache," she says. "And it's a gift I love to share."

Dennis Levine, 52

INSIDER TRADER

Almost two decades after he helped take down arbitrageur Ivan Boesky, Levine is back making deals--albeit smaller than his glory days. The former Drexel investment banker and convicted insider trader is still in New York City, but now he runs a small consulting firm that helps new technology companies grow. And he lectures students about his mistakes. "Back then I screwed up," he says of the crimes that landed him in jail for 15 months. "But I learned more about myself from my adversity than I ever have from my successes."

Ross Perot, 74

PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE

He has a few new gray hairs, but Perot hasn't slowed down. These days he spends more time with his pet cause--helping injured U.S. soldiers get special medical care--than with Perot Systems, where he's chairman emeritus. While he says he's not interested in politics anymore, Washington still frustrates him. "At one point, the Model A Ford looked great, right?" he says of Social Security. "But as times changed, engineers figured out ways to make it better. They don't do that in Washington, and that's sad."

F. Ross Johnson, 73

NABISCO INFIGHTER

Even today, the $25 billion battle over RJR Nabisco in 1988 is remembered as one of the bloodiest and most cutthroat boardroom clashes in history. Johnson, the architect (and eventual loser) of the takeover battle, is now largely retired--though he does sit on a few corporate boards and runs a small investment firm with his son. He lives in Jupiter, Fla., with his wife, Susan, and two dachshunds, Chien Chaud ("hot dog" in French) and Saucisse. "I paid attention to shareholder value before it was fashionable," he says. "We didn't do things like the Enrons or Tycos of the world. Those guys ran some major red lights."

Kim Polese, 43

WEB QUEEN

In 1997, Time named her one of America's most influential people. But as the boom-boom '90s fizzled out, so did her celebrity. Today the founder and ex-CEO of software company Marimba and former public face of Java is still busy in Silicon Valley. She's CEO of SpikeSource, which tests and certifies open-source software for corporate clients. And just as in the early days of the web, Polese says she's at the forefront of something big: "We got ahead of ourselves back in the bubble days. But innovation hasn't stopped around here."

Fred Wang, 54

STRUGGLING SON

In 1986 he took over Wang Laboratories, the once powerful computer company his father, An, founded. A mere three years later, with the company failing, Dad pushed him out. (Wang Labs filed for bankruptcy in 1992.) The younger Wang still attributes the company's problems in part to his former employees, who he says refused to embrace the PC. "They simply didn't get it," he says. Today Wang lives quietly in Cambridge, Mass., spending most of his time mentoring and investing in young entrepreneurs.

Donald Burr, 63

AIRLINE VISIONARY

When Burr started People Express in 1980, he brought absurdly low fares and almost cultlike employee loyalty to an industry that badly needed both. But while Burr's innovations (and airline) were swept away in 1987 by increased competition and overexpansion, he still can't stay away from the business. With former American Airlines CEO Robert Crandall, he's launching a company called Pogo Jet that will use tiny jets to shuttle executives between small airports. Burr hopes to have the service up and running next year. "We won't have Southwest prices, but we won't have Jack Welch prices either," he says. "I want to break down the stigma that only the elite can fly in private jets."

Peter Lynch, 61

MASTER FUND MANAGER When he retired from managing Fidelity's Magellan fund in 1990, people said he'd be back. In fact, he never left: Lynch still keeps an office at Fidelity's Boston headquarters, though his client list has shrunk to his family and foundation. He works only part-time. (He spent some 100 days traveling the world with his wife in the past five years.) "My method for picking stocks has never changed," Lynch says. "When businesses go from crappy to semicrappy, there's money to be made."

John Sculley, 66

APPLE SHAKER

When this former Pepsi exec ran Apple from 1983 to 1993, he was known for walking around with his Newton handheld computer. Today he uses a PC (and no, he doesn't own an iPod). A venture capitalist at RHO Capital Partners in New York City, Sculley still focuses on technology innovation. What does he think of Apple's resurgence under Steve Jobs, the man he once fired? "They've made beautiful products, well thought through, with no compromises and great styling," he says. "And they've made a market for them."

Robert Stempel, 71

AUTO CHIEFTAIN

Once a car guy, always a car guy. Stempel, a former Pontiac engineer, ran General Motors from 1990 to 1992--rough times for the company. Like John Akers at IBM, he was fired for his company's woes. Now he's capitalizing on the booming hybrid-car industry as CEO of Detroit-based Energy Conversion Devices. ECD designs battery systems for the major automakers-- among other things--so Stempel still gets to peek under lots of hoods. "Someone asked me if I missed the vroom-vroom," he says. "But when you feel the get-go from electric or hybrid cars, you get the same kind of excitement." ■