A faithful diner's last will and condiments

In the mornings, Lindsay would pull on a wool beanie, stop by a bank to snag a free cup of coffee and then head to Vanguard for breakfast in the cafeteria, usually an omelet topped with avocado. Between meals he would walk to the campus library to read free newspapers or wander through the administration building to chat with school officials. He would often grab an extra piece of fruit at lunch to hold him over until dinner.

Afternoons were sometimes spent meeting with students in the library. A former university president gave Lindsay the title of "student advocate" in the 1980s because students went to him with their problems and he in turn went to campus officials to help solve them.

With the title came free cafeteria food, and Lindsay rarely missed a meal from then on. Vanguard's close-knit community became Lindsay's family. Students and professors took turns driving Lindsay to the dentist or doctor -- when they could persuade him to shell out the money for such visits. He suffered from diabetes, a bad heart and cancer of the skin and prostate.

"We tried to get him to take better care of himself," Westbook said. "But he didn't want to pay for it."

Westbrook frequently invited Lindsay to be a guest speaker for his Introduction to Business class.

"He was a good illustration of a man who was frugal and able to live on very little," Westbrook said. "It was a counterbalance to people who thought you needed to make a lot of money to live well in life."

Lindsay would tell students how he made his nest egg hunting for cheap oil and mineral leases and bargain properties. He owned more than 1,000 oil leases, many of them snapped up in the 1960s when oil cost $2.25 a barrel, said Mary Young, a Vanguard alumna who wrote "Bruce," a 63-page biography of Lindsay that is distributed on campus.

He recalled growing up in Omaha, poor and often hungry. One day, walking home from school, he found a nearly empty peanut butter jar in a neighbor's trash can -- a tasty discovery and something of a defining moment for Lindsay. He repeated the story often.

Though Lindsay lived on the cheap, he wasn't afraid to pass judgment on the cafeteria fare. Lindsay's last words to Westbrook: "The cook put too much salt in the soup."

His soft spot was the ice cream. Instead of using the small cups the cafeteria provided, Lindsay would grab a large cereal bowl and load it to the brim with ribbons of vanilla and chocolate.

As Lindsay's estate is sorted out, one caveat is known. A portion of the money must be used to help build a new dining hall.

"That way," Westbrook said, "students will always be eating with Bruce."

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my-thuan.tran@latimes.com