A South Dakotan by Choice

When Ted Muenster stepped out of graduate school at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln in 1967, he received a call that would forever change the course of his life.

A professor told him that the University of South Dakota had recently secured a grant to operate an extension program for state and local government administration. The university needed someone willing to build it from the ground up while also finding a way to sustain it.

Fast forward more than 50 years later, and Muenster is now a household name in Vermillion, the namesake for one of USD's most quintessential buildings and a community member with the loyalty and Coyote spirit of a USD alumnus. With the courage to take on a new challenge, the support of close relationships and a belief in doing something greater than oneself, Muenster chose South Dakota—a decision that would help strengthen USD for decades to come.

The Beginning of a New Chapter

During his time at Nebraska, Muenster had met the person who would help guide every decision. Karen, then-president of a student organization, caught his attention when he attended one of her meetings.

"I was quite smitten," he said.

They married soon after, and this year marked 61 years together—a partnership that shaped not only where they lived, but how Muenster approached leadership, service and community.

"None of my success would have been possible without Karen, who became a successful businesswoman during our times in Vermillion, Pierre and Sioux Falls. She also served five terms in the South Dakota State Senate while we lived in Sioux Falls and often noted the USD was among her primary interests," Muenster shared.

When the opportunity to move to Vermillion arose, Muenster didn't originally see it as a chance to build a legacy. He saw it as a reasonable distance from home and a good, youthful adventure. He knew little about Vermillion. But, as he recalls, "every state has a flagship state university," so there had to be a University of South Dakota. He pulled out a map, found the town and thought, "It's not that far. I'll go take a look."

After a welcoming conversation with Edward Q. Moulton, the university's president at the time, Muenster returned to Lincoln with a decision to make. Before committing, he brought Karen and their two young children—one only weeks old—to see Vermillion for themselves. The town felt familiar, not unlike the small Nebraska community where Karen had grown up. For the first time, they met legendary Professor W.O. "Doc" Farber, chair of the political science department.

"What the heck," they decided. "Why not?"

More than 50 years later, that decision to say "yes" and start a new chapter at USD still echoes across campus—evident in the support, leadership and Coyote pride Muenster has shared in the community.

What made USD feel like home, Muenster said, was not a title or job description, but the people.

Housed within the political science department, the new extension program—the Institute of Public Affairs—quickly became part of the university's rhythm. Muenster was invited to faculty meetings, included in weekly lunches at the student center and treated as a colleague from the start. Relationships formed. Trust followed. Vermillion shifted from a temporary stop to a permanent home. 

That sense of belonging became foundational to Muenster's career and his approach to leadership. 

A Quiet Leader

Often described as humble and steady, Muenster moved through a wide range of leadership roles at USD and other organizations over the decades, spanning higher education, state government business and civic service. Yet when reflecting on his career, he rarely begins with accomplishments; he talks instead about mentors.

"It's not just what you know," he said. "It's also who you know."

His own path is proof. Without one professor's phone call, a mentor's suggestion or someone will to reach back, Muenster may never have come to USD at all. That lesson stuck.

"Developing relationships is critical," he said. "Caring about students and following up matters. That's how universities remain strong."

At a state university like USD—large enough to offer opportunity yet small enough to foster connection—mentorship often works quietly. Sometimes it is a conversation. Sometimes it is simply noticing when someone needs help. Usually, it is recognition at a time when students need it most. That impact can last a lifetime.

Guiding Through Change

Some of Muenster's most visible contributions to USD came during moments marked by uncertainty and debate. One such moment was the establishment of the DakotaDome.

At the time, the idea of an indoor football stadium was far from universally supported. Some argued the sport was meant to be played outdoors. Others questioned the feasibility of a project of that scale involving state funds and bonds. Muenster, who at the time was the chief of staff for Governor Richard Kneip, saw the Dome differently. He saw a place for student recreation, community gatherings and year-round use.

"There were moments when I wasn't sure we'd succeed," he said.

They did. Today, the DakotaDome—a 9,100 seat facility that has continually enhanced the game day experience over the years and is now on its way to becoming a turf-down facility—stands as a reminder that long-term thinking often requires weathering short-term doubt.

Later, Muenster helped guide another institution through transformation: this time, the USD Foundation.

When he retired from a business career in Sioux Falls to become the foundation's first full-time president in 1998, it was a modest operation with a few employees and about $30 million dollars of total assets. Over the next decade, through reorganization, structural investment and a belief that USD could do more, the foundation evolved into the professional advancement organization alumni recognize today, stewarding more than $300 million in assets.

Muenster rarely frames that growth as a personal achievement. Instead, he views it as necessary work that allowed others to build what came next.

A Place for All

Muenster has long been committed to service, focused on supporting the communities around him.

In Sioux Falls, for example, he immersed himself in civic leadership, serving with organizations including the United Way, the Chamber of Commerce, Forward Sioux Falls, Rotary and the state Chamber of Commerce. Raised in a family in which community involvement was expected, he never questioned whether he should contribute—only how.

Few places on campus reflect Muenster's values more clearly than the Muenster University Center—a building that represents an intentional effort to create a space of shared belonging.

"I asked that it be called the University Center, not solely the Student Center," Muenster said. "I wanted it to signal that everyone is welcome."

That intention is evident inside. Muenster is especially proud of the Native American display at the entrance, which includes a ceremonial headdress loaned by the family of Charles "Chuck" Trimble, a member of the Oglala Sioux Tribe and a USD graduate from Pine Ridge who dedicated much of his life to Native education and advocacy. Crafter with eagle feathers, the headdress symbolizes respect and honor, values Muenster wanted Native students to feel the moment they entered.

"'Respect' is an important word in Native communities," he said. "I wanted to make sure Native students and their families felt welcome here."

In October, Ted and Karen Muenster were awarded the Inman Award, the university's highest honor. For Muenster, what the recognition represents is greater than any sense of personal accomplishment.

"When you think about what the Inmans and others did in the 1880s," he said, "rebuilding Vermillion after floods and founding the university without outside help, we have every reason to be proud of that history."

Rather than focus on the honor, Muenster prefers to reflect on impact.

"I just hope that when the time comes, I can say I left the world a little better than I found it.

"Maybe not a lot," he added. "But some."

Supporting Generations to Come

As he looks toward USD's future, his advice to the next generation of Coyotes is simple.

"Pay attention to people. Be curious. And when life allows, reach back."

Muenster did not come to Vermillion with the goal of creating a lasting legacy. He came with a willingness to try, learn and do what felt right. Through steady commitment rather than grand gestures, that willingness helped shape the flagship liberal arts university USD is today.

And that kind of legacy—quietly built—is the one that lasts.