To his fingertips the pecuniary man as well as cracker-barrel philosopher, Hunt further improved his position by soliciting business
donations
for his foundations and giving his own food and patent-medicine companies reduced advertising rates on his radio programs.
Lundberg - The-Rich-and-the-Super-Rich-by-Ferdinand-Lundberg
E.
Smith* ditto
(Houston)
20. Michael Benedum $75-$100
Public school
(deceased 1961)
21. Donaldson Brown ditto
Virginia
(Baltimore)
Polytechnic
tute
22. George R. Brown ditto
college
(Houston)
23. Herman Brown ditto
college
(deceased 1962)
24. James A. Chapman* ditto
(Tulsa)
25. Leo Corrigan ditto
Public school
(Dallas)
26. Erle F. Halliburton*
(Duncan, Oklahoma)
27. Henry J. Kaiser ditto
Public school
(Oakland)
28. John W. Kicckhefer ditto
(Milwaukee)
29. John E. Mabee* ditto
(Tulsa)
30. John D. MacArthur ditto
Public school
(Chicago)
31. H. H. Meadows ditto
school
(Dallas)
Oil operator
Oil operator
45 Some
62 Some
General Motors executive
Oil operator
Oil operator 88
General Motors 72
and Du Pont executive
Public construction
Public construction
Oil operator
Insti 59 Some
65 Some
Real estate and 63
hotel operation
Oil well equipment
Public construction 75
Paper, containers
Oil operations
Insurance promotion 60
Oil operator
58 Law
32. Charles S. Mott
Stevens Institute
(Flint)
Technology
33. James Sottile, Jr.
Public school
(Miami)
34. George W. Strake*
(Texas)
35. Louis Wolfson
college
ditto General Motors exec. 82
of
ditto Banking 44
ditto Oil operations
ditto Financial operator 45 Some
New York)
*Not listed in Who's Who 1956-57, 1964-65.
In general, American politics are not nearly so brusque, arbitrary and doctrinaire as Russian politics. But those carried away by the lullaby of American democracy should consult the harsh experience of the Negro and other repressed groups in the American system. There matters begin to take on a distinctly Russian complexion.
As to the sources of the big incomes (those above $500,000 and over $1 million), Appendix A shows that the aggregate received in this category includes comparatively little in salaries or partnership profits. Receipts in the form of dividends and capital gains, interest and other forms of property return, were comparatively colossal. The 398 persons in the $1 million-plus income class in 1961, for example, took only $18,607,000 in salaries, an average of $46,753, and $10,503,000 in partnership profits but took $259,574,000 in dividends, $434,272,000 in capital gains, $8,754,000 in interest, $3,163,000 from trust funds (not including capital gains from such) and $2,371,000 from rents and royalties. The group as a whole also absorbed $7,915,000 of business loss, more than offset by the interest it received. This, in brief, is not a group of workers even of the upper executive class, and the same holds true of the $500,000- $1,000,000 group of income recipients.
Fortune differentiated between inherited and personally assembled wealth. We will leave the inheritors for Chapter IV; examined above is the Fortune list of the new big wealth-holders, thirty-five in number.
Left off the Fortune list but referred to in its text were Dr. Martin Miller, New Orleans surgeon, with a reported annual income of $7-$8 million from oil royalties; E. V. Richards, New Orleans real estate operator estimated by Fortune to be worth $50-$100 million; and Matilda Geddings Gray of New Orleans, who inherited an oil fortune of unstated present value from her father. Fortune also mentioned a sprinkling of new names in the $50-million bracket, but these persons need not detain us here.
Revision of the List
Under critical analysis, this list requires some pruning and rearranging, both with respect to the number of inclusions among the new big rich and to estimated size of holdings.
Only the probates of estates of those who have died since 1957 can give . us a clue to the value of the fortune, although even they cannot be decisive. But Michael Benedum, "King of the Wild-Catters," died in 1961 at the age of ninety-two and the probate of his will in Pittsburgh showed a net estate of $68,199,539, putting him only some 10 per
cent below Fortune's $75-$100 million range in which be appears. 4 I count this estimate a direct "hit," as holdings of this size can easily vary in value by 10 to 25 per cent from year to year, up or down.
Benedum left half his estate to the inevitable tax-evading foundation and after a number of specific bequests to relatives be left the residue to a nephew, Paul G. Benedum, who now ranks as a wealthy man of the lower ranks and directs the Benedum oil properties through his own holdings and those of the Benedum foundation. In passing, it may be noted that Benedum, as Fortune relates, had the amiable and rare habit of cutting younger and even menial employees in on some of his lucrative ventures; thus, a chauffeur who looked for no more than a steady $50 per week was so favored and predeceased his benefactor worth some $17 million.
Arthur Vining Davis, former head of the Mellons' Aluminum Corporation of America, died in 1962. The press report of his will played back the Fortune estimate of $400 million on his wealth,5 but the probate showed that Fortune had missed wildly on this one; it was too high by about 370 per cent. 6 The actual size of the Davis estate was $86,629,282. 83, not including $5 million of Cuban property. As there is no record of early Davis gifts large enough to have ever put him in the $400- to $700-million class of wealth-holder, on this one Fortune must be debited with a very bad miss.
There is no public evidence to justify such a high estimate by Fortune. As of December 11, 1939, according to a Securities and Exchange Commission study (TNEC study, Monograph No. 29, to be cited later), Mr. Davis owned 11. 4 per cent of Aluminum Company of America common and a brother owned . 96 per cent. Mr. Davis also owned 5. 41 per cent of the cumulative preferred. At-the 54-3/4 close for 1962 a block of 12 per cent of Aluminum common then outstanding was worth $140,397,615; 5. 5 per cent of the preferred was worth $3,128,547 at the year's high. At the record high of 133-1/2 in 1956, 12 per cent of Aluminum was worth $329,262,364.
This block of stock never could have put Davis into the $400- to $700-million class even in a momentary market flurry. As it was, he had obviously sold much of it at lower levels or transferred it to others off the record. He could not have sold at or anywhere near its high point because then the proceeds exceeding $300 million would have been in his estate; he was too old at the time to divest himself of any by gift under the provisions of the tax code.
The Davis will, after assigning $1 million and his home to his secretary, divided the estate into 100 shares. Of these, 50 were put into a public trust with the First National Bank of Miami, a nephew among the co-trustees; 25 were put into a public trust with the Mellon National Bank and Trust Company of Pittsburgh, the nephew and a son-in- law among the trustees. Ten shares went to the heirs of a deceased brother, 10 shares to a stepdaughter and 5 shares were set aside for inheritance taxes. Thus, 75 per cent of the estate escaped taxes. The tax-free income of the trusts was broadly designated for the usual charities and scientific, educational and religious work But the trustees, like those of many similar establishments, will continue to exercise the corporate voting power of the Davis holdings, which is what counts. Davis thus passed his financial power, diminished only by an overall tax of 5 per cent, on to his relatives.
In 1952 Davis had established another foundation, the Arthur Vining Davis Foundation, which, according to the Foundation Directory, 1964, at the end of 1961 had assets of only $1,379,672. So no earlier Davis wealth of substantial proportions appears to have escaped notice.
A report is not yet available on the estate of Herman Brown of the construction firm of Brown and Root, Inc. , of Dallas, who died in 1962.
Charles F. Kettering, research director of General Motors, died in 1958 and left an estate "conservatively" estimated at a little more than $200 million but no inventory was cited. " The bulk went to the Charles F. Kettering Foundation and a trust. At the end of 1962 the Foundation had assets of $72,020,128, according to the Foundation Directory; and as Kettering in his lifetime placed large sums for medical research, there seems no reason to question seriously the Fortune rating of the $200-million range. (One of the surer ways of spotting truly big wealth is that it shows itself in huge public transfers of assets during the lifetime of the owner. )
Alfred P. Sloan, Jr. , also appears to be justifiably rated. By the end of 1962 Sloan had conveyed to the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation assets then worth $222,715,014 at the market. Charles Stewart Mott, also of General Motors, had at the end of 1960 put assets worth $76,754,317 into a foundation bearing his name. The John L. Pratt Foundation of Fredericksburg, Virginia, however, at the end of 1962 had assets of only $88,753. But this structure can be looked upon as a prepared financial tomb to receive a large portion of the Pratt fortune, ,which can be tentatively accepted as close to or in the range laid out by Fortune.
It is evident that the Fortune estimates as checked against available probates show extremely wide variations, approximately correct at times but at other times far off the mark. It would, in fact, be remarkable if Fortune had found an unofficial way to being even approximately correct in all cases.
Ambiguity of the New Wealth
Additionally, one must notice that much of this "new money" is concentrated in real estate, promotional effort and uncertain oil prospecting. The owner of real estate or of oil-producing land holds something not readily translated into dollars. The independent oil prospector is subject to price fluctations, curtailment of politically arranged tax privileges and, in many parts of the world, confiscation. In any event, his wealth consists largely of estimated below-ground reserves, which may be erroneous. The real estate operator, in order to cash in, must find for his properties buyers, who are relatively scarce; and often the big realty operator is sitting on a slippery cushion of bank loans and mortgages. His own equity is seldom as imposing as the facades of his properties.
Few men on the list are in manufacturing or banking, where there is not only solid evidence of what an enterprise is worth but where the heavy money is found. And even big oil operators fall on evil days. Glenn McCarthy, who in 1949 threw open the Shamrock Hotel of Houston to a less-than-astounded world and who is more recently financially in an ambiguous position, is a case in point. Hence I would place a question mark after the name of nearly every independent oil prospector on this list with respect to the rated extent of his wealth. I do this for two reasons: Most of them own purely private companies and few publish balance sheets and income statements. Those that do, such as Murchison's Delhi-Taylor Oil Corporation, have years of deficit operations alternating with profitable years. What nonfinancial observers do is to look at a heap of assets, usually no more than leases and land concessions, and put some figure on the heap. They do not take into consideration offsetting liabilities--cost of leases, drilling equipment, political contributions and the like. This is not to deny that the oil men mentioned are wealthy in varying degrees.
Nor is this a point made in passing. The issue underlying my remarks is this: Are large fortunes, solidly comparable in size to the inherited fortunes, still being made in profusion by free-as-air rugged entrepreneurs in the American economy? Fortune, the
Wall Street Journal and most newspapers that follow the "party line" laid down by these over-arching publications say "Yes. " I say, most respectfully, "No. " In the upshot, the reader can make his own choice.
We have already seen that Arthur Vining Davis drops like the proverbial plummet from Fortune's $400-million class to the $86-million class in probate autopsy and I venture to say that most of the independent oil operators will, when they throw in their final hands, show similar downward variations from ebullient outside estimates. But I incline to keep Jacob Blaustein pretty much in the position Fortune assigned him because be is a full-scale operator, is high in national political councils and is a known big stockholder of the muscular Standard Oil Company of Indiana--a solid, old-line Rockefeller enterprise.
The J. Paul Getty Story
J. Paul Getty may be worth less than Fortune rates him, but Getty does not belong to the list of new wealth. Getty himself provides this information as well as his own comments on the Fortune estimate. As wealthy people seldom contribute to the discussion of their affairs, Getty's action was most unusual.
Getty, incidentally, was scarcely known except to business associates until the Fortune article appeared, crowning him the world's richest man. "Illustrative of the extent to which I had been able to maintain my anonymity through the years," Getty writes in his memoirs, "was a chance encounter with a former classmate I had not seen since my undergraduate days at the University of California at Berkeley. Meeting accidentally on a Los Angeles street in 1950, we recognized each other and stopped to reminisce for a few moments. 'By the way, Paul,' my former schoolmate asked me at one point in our conversation, 'who are you working for these days? '"8
Right after the article appeared, Getty relates, he became a sitting duck for a parade of interviewers, cranks, money-seekers and spongers.
As to the source of his wealth, Getty writes, his father died in 1930, worth $15,478,137. As early as 1916 the elder Getty was a millionaire oil prospector. He left the bulk of his estate to his wife but by 1916 he had entered into a 70-30 partnership with his son, allotting the latter, gratis, 300 of 1,000 newly issued shares of the Getty Oil Company. By the terms of his father's will Getty got only $500,000; "but I had no real need for more money; I had several millions of my own. "9 He owned, in fact, more than 30 per cent of Getty Oil.
Getty, in brief, is an inheritor. The son of a wealthy oil operator, he completed his formal education at Oxford University before World War I and was brought in on the ground floor as a junior partner of a going business where he did well.
In 1930 Getty was elected vice president and general manager of George F. Getty, Inc. , but the controlling interest remained with his mother and former associates of the elder Getty. Young Getty, in order to protect the company's position, urged the acquisition of additional shares of companies in which the Gettys already had interests, but his elderly associates held back and young Getty went ahead on his own account. He first bought 160,000 shares of Pacific Western Oil Company at $7 a share: $1,120,000. He next started buying Tidewater Associated Oil Company in the open market at $2. 50 a share, depression-low prices, and acquired 285,004 shares for $923,285. 30 or an average price of $3. 59. 10
Getty, schooled by his father to reach only for aces, was out to get control of Tidewater. He found himself blocked by the powerful Standard Oil Company of New
Jersey but, with some unexpected luck, delicately outfenced this giant and finally got control of Tidewater and the Mission Corporation, which the New Jersey company had formed to hold its own Tidewater stock. He also picked up at bargain prices the Hotel Pierre in New York, and the Skelly Oil Company, which owned the Spartan Aircraft Company. In the meantime his mother had assigned her Getty shares to a trust for her grandchildren, with J. Paul Getty as sole trustee.
In 1963 Getty, after accepting Getty oil stock for his various independent holdings, held 12,570,939 shares of the Getty Oil Company, which now owns all or nearly all of Tidewater, Mission, Mexican Seaboard, Skelly and a good many others. 11 These shares in the same year, by the company's audited computation had a net tangible underlying value of $31. 21. This single holding alone, then, was solidly worth $392,339,006. 19 and is only part of the family holding. By late 1967 the market value of J. Paul Getty's Getty Oil holding's had advanced to around $1 billion $200 million.
As Getty personally has always liked to stand free and clear of banks, one may suppose none of it is up for collateral against hidden loans. Add here and there any stray properties Getty may own, consider that he has made. provisions for his sons and grandchildren going beyond those of his mother's trust fund, and one sees looming before one an authentic very large fortune, new in its latter-day magnitude at least, although not in its origin. Aside from the Sloan, Kettering, Pratt and Mott General Motors fortunes, all post-1918 jobs, it is one of the few so-called new big ones we can accept without demur (other than denying it is new) from the Fortune list. Had Getty not had money and insight provided by his father he could not have picked up these companies.
Getty, commenting on his elevation to hyperbolic billionaire status, said "there is no such thing as a billionaire among active businessmen, not in the sense that most people would understand the term, An individual may own or control business enterprises worth a billion dollars or even more, but little of his rated wealth is available to him in cash. A millionaire or billionaire does not have his millions on deposit in his personal checking account. The money is invested in his businesses.
"It is impossible for him to know what his investments are really worth at any given time. The values of a businessman's holdings fluctuate greatly. The price of stocks may rise or fall, corporations may show major increases or decreases in their net worth, innumerable variables may multiply the value of an investment or wipe it out completely. "12
Getty's entire life has been subdued in pitch. He went to school quietly--first to the University of Southern California, later to the University of California and then to Oxford. He traveled the world quietly, went into business with his father quietly and later bought large amounts of stock very cheaply--and quietly. He was married quietly seven times and as quietly divorced, with no hint of scandal. In his memoirs he quietly takes the blame for his marital failures and speaks with quiet commendation of his various wives. He appears to have quietly evaded politics and politicians at all times. In more recent years he has lived quietly in the baronial halls of Sutton Place, his English manor house, and will one day no doubt die quietly and quietly leave his swollen fortune to foundations and to his four sons and many grandchildren. Getty, beyond doubt, has been the all-time ghostly atypical presence in the procession of American wealth. When he speaks--and he has been interviewed on TV--he speaks, yes, very quietly.
H. L. Hunt and the Politics of Oil
Haroldson L. Hunt, No. 2 on Fortune's list, has been variously estimated as worth $250 million to $3 billion. 13 Forced to choose, I'd incline toward the lower figure; Fortune pegged him at $400-$700 million, leaving a good deal of leeway, But Hunt's fortune, like that of all the oil prospectors, rests literally in the sands and in money- inflamed politics, domestic and foreign. He no doubt holds a good hand, but one may doubt that it harbors a royal flush.
Hunt, a small-town cracker-barrel philosopher (in this aspect very much resembling the late Andrew Carnegie and Henry Ford) and overburdened with wildcatted possessions beyond his own wildest, wildcatting dreams, first came to national political notice during the 1950's (much as Henry Ford did in the early 1920's) as a rabble- rousing propagandist for hard-nosed right-wing political points of view. For Hunt takes seriously what he has heard around the town cracker-barrel. The violence of the diatribes in his subsidized radio programs--carried to 331 cracker-barrel stations--led many observers to see them as having at least helped nurture the mood for the assassination of President Kennedy. The programs, seeming overtures to schrecklichkeit, are prepared and taped by a stable of about twenty-five henchmen Hunt maintains in Washington, D. C. In general, views blandishing to the Ku Klux mentality are broadcast. 14
On the very morning of President Kennedy's assassination--in Texas--the Hunt radio program in Dallas and other areas predicted pessimistically that a day was soon coming when American citizens would not be allowed to own firearms with which they could oppose their rulers, an important function of red-blooded free citizens in the cracker- barrel point of view. Of a communist society (thought by cracker-barrel pundits to be imminent in the United States) the Hunt commentator said forebodingly: "No firearms are permitted the people because they would then have the weapons with which to rise up against their oppressors. "
Hunt staged his alarmist programs through a series of incestuous foundations--Facts Forum, Inc. , the Life Line Foundation and Bright Star Foundation, none of which is listed in the very complete Foundation Directory, 1964, issued by the Russell Sage Foundation. Until early 1965 (after the assassination of President Kennedy: that is), despite many strongly sponsored protests, Hunt seemed to have mysterious and powerful friends in or behind the Internal Revenue Service, which granted these propaganda foundations complete tax exemption. The Life Line Foundation originally got tax exemption as a religious organization!
To his fingertips the pecuniary man as well as cracker-barrel philosopher, Hunt further improved his position by soliciting business donations for his foundations and giving his own food and patent-medicine companies reduced advertising rates on his radio programs. For H. L. Hunt believes in killing whole flocks of birds with a single stone.
One of Hunt's many immortal quoted sayings is: "Everything I do, I do for a profit. "
There is also the H. L. Hunt Foundation, founded in 1954, a financially anemic affair with assets at the end of 1961 of only $799,553, according to the Foundation Directory, and which in that year made charitable grants of a stupendous $17,500. No doubt it is this lithe creation that is destined to receive and immortalize any portion of Hunt holdings in flight from inheritance taxes.
Although Hunt--silver haired, soft-spoken, frugal, a food faddist-is very rich, few people are able to say they have ever seen the color of his money. He has never been known to contribute in the presence of witnesses more than $250 to $500 to any single political candidate; and in 1956 he gave the Republican Party, over the counter, a mere $38,000. In 1952 the Republicans tried to entice $300,000 from him, but Hunt came up
with only $5,000--this, at least, is according to the public role of penny-pincher that he plays.
But owing to the vastness of his landholdings, sprawling over the Southwest and the Middle East, and his seemingly uncanny ability to obtain high-level political chaperonage at crucial moments, realistic observers surmise that Hunt is passing out large sums under the table. "He must have a front man he spreads his money through," hostile Senator Ralph Yarborough of Texas has said. "A man with that kind of bank roll is bound to have. "
It is rumored in Texas, according to the New York Times (August 17, 1964), that Hunt put up $150,000 to get General Douglas MacArthur the Republican presidential nomination in 1952 and that he put up $100,000 for the Kennedy-Johnson ticket in 1960 owing to his longstanding friendship with Lyndon B. Johnson. Booth Mooney, the Hunt public relations man in Washington, wrote the authorized The Lyndon Johnson Story in 1956, updated in 1964; and Lyndon Johnson is an old friend of the oil depletion allowance as well as of Hunt. Although Senator Barry Goldwater in 1964 stood forthrightly for straight Hunt political wisdom, Hunt testily denied that he was supporting Goldwater against the old Huntsman, L. B. J.
One must agree with Senator Yarborough that Hunt and other Texas oil men are passing money (or some equivalent) to political figures. If they didn't, they wouldn't have the depletion allowance, ostensibly passed as a defense measure to stimulate the search for oil but also serving the useful function of providing a politician's entering siphon into the oil Golconda. There might instead be a special high tax on oil!
Here we touch the edge of a problem: Why, if the independent oil men are so favored by nature and politicians, do they show this political rancor? True, not all the oil men are so perturbed as Hunt and some others, who apparently feel that their easy-come wealth could as easily be whisked away; many of the more realistic, less anxiety-prone Texas oil crowd speak of themselves as just plain lucky and see no need for making the world safe for future wildcatters.
But H. L. Hunt is an expression in exaggerated form of the irritation and resulting apparent meanness of many oil independents, even though most oil men appear to regard him as more than a little kooky. What produces this irritation? There is, first, the annual tax bill. Some of the successful oil men write annual checks for the Internal Revenue Service in amounts that would stagger the ordinary man. And most of the oil men are ordinary men who early in their lives worked long hours for small wages. The men who write these checks still think in terms of the original $20-a-week roustabout. And while it is frequently said that one wouldn't mind writing big tax checks if one had the big incomes, to have worked in one's early life on the supposition that what one acquired one could keep and then to learn after hitting it big that one must share to some extent with the government--or politicians--is more than some persons can swallow gracefully. Some of the oil men, Hunt included, feel very much the way a man earning $60 a week would feel if he was told the withholding tax was to be $50. They just aren't psychically attuned to their new positions. On top of the tax bite, very much softened by the depletion allowance and drilling write-off, the oil men find they must share what is no doubt a good part of the depletion benefits with hungry politicians in the form of "campaign contributions. " And for these political contributions they feel the politicians ought to deliver more. The politicians, to extenuate their less than totalitarian success, no doubt report that there are various obstacles in the form of Liberalism, Communism, Socialism, Eastern Capitalists, Labor Unions, Welfarism and a world full of Wrong- Thinking People all the way from college professors and journalists to Supreme Court justices. The enormity of it all, the injustice of all these misguided people stirring a
witch's brew with which to annoy Horatio Alger's own darling boys out on the oil frontier, finally becomes more than human flesh--or at least H. L. Hunt's flesh--can stand.
Hunt has seen it all at first-hand, indeed. He has regularly attended the national conventions of both parties, keeping his ears close to the ground, his eyes sharp and his nose clean for any whiff of Godless un-Americanism. And there is, as God only knows, much of it around, in the very Constitution itself!
There is, too, the milieu of Texas as a force shaping Texas consciousness. For Texas has very much the economic and political status of a colony, as also have many far less bustling western states. In the words of Senator Wilbert (Pappy) Lee O'Daniel, Texas is "New York's most valuable foreign possession. "
The widely traveled John Gunther in 1947 found that "Texas reminded me a good deal of Argentina . . . cattle culture, absentee ownership, vast land holdings by semifeudal barons, a great preoccupation with weather, an under-developed middle class, interminable flatness and open spaces, and fierce political partisanship and nationalism. And . . . reaction closely paralleling that of Argentina. " 15
Most of the state is in fact absentee-owned by big eastern capital. The largest enterprise in the state is the Humble Oil and Refining Company, subsidiary of the global Standard Oil Company of New Jersey, the annual gross revenue of which exceeds the combined revenues of thirty state governments--$11. 471 billion versus $11. 375 billion in 19,65. The operations of the huge eastern enterprises--Du Pont, U. S. Steel, General Motors, Dow Chemical and various others--are splattered right and left. And many of the prominent men in the state, Hunt included, originate elsewhere, are in effect colonial concessionaires. Many Texas oil men are not native Texans at all.
With a thin layer of native wealthy and imported representatives of big corporations at the top, bellowing the glories of Texas in history and contemporary culture, most Texans find themselves somewhat dazedly in the low-income classes, dirt poor--in fact, colons. Gunther was told in Texas that twenty corporations ran the state, but he thought this exaggerated. I don't think so. At least, the rank and file colons, many close to peons, do not run it--and they know it.
Texas boastfulness, free-swinging behavior and loud talk about independence of spirit are all a compensatory reflex to the feeling, deep in many Texans, that they are dusty puppets manipulated from outside. Some informed Texans amuse themselves sardonically by giving visitors the home addresses in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, even Amsterdam, of the owners of prominent items of Texas property.
One word fits the general Texas political consciousness from high to low: resentment. And some of Hunt's outpourings have awkwardly expressed simply this.
As to colonialism, it shows itself everywhere in this way: One can see a great deal going out--cattle, cotton, oil, minerals, chemicals--but little or nothing coming in. The dividends go out, too. Texas, like Pittsburgh seventy-five years ago, is being bled grey, if not white.
The niggardliness of Hunt's known political handouts is thought to derive from the position that, although Hunt may like a man's political stance, he does not like to back losers. His political contributions, like those of the oldline magnates, are not made to support or propagate principles so much as to purchase instant influence in government. In this respect he seems, if reports are true, cut from the same bolt as the late Henry J. Havemever, the sugar magnate, who testified before the United States Industrial Commission that he habitually contributed to both political parties (as do the oil men) and explained: "We get a good deal of protection for our contributions. "
Hunt, lamentable to relate, has had some hard times with cruel politicians. When he bid $17 an acre on offshore oil tracts that the government ordinarily leased at $406 an acre he was unsympathetically rebuffed by Secretary of the Interior Frederick Seaton. Hunt thereupon procured Senator Everett M. Dirksen and Representative Charles A. Halleck, statesmen of the purest Republican strain, to convoy him to a protest interview with Seaton. This eyeball to eyeball confrontation came to naught, But after the tidelands were transferred under Eisenhower to state jurisdiction--for which the well- heeled oil lobby had worked every bit as hard as wildcatters on a hot tin roof--Hunt found Texas Governor Allan Shivers, a board member of Hunt's Facts Forum, far more accommodating. In this matter Shivers's land commissioner, Bascom Giles (before he was bundled off to the state penitentiary for getting caught cheating the state in another quarter), approved all of Hunt's bids for more than 100,000 acres of tidelands leases, even though Hunt bid an average of $6 an acre while the average over-all bid was $78. As I remarked, Hunt is frugal and this frugality--aided by his knowledge of governors-- has helped make him wealthy in a nation where people are so foolish as to pay whatever it says on the price tag.
The last president of whom Hunt fully approves was Calvin Coolidge; even Herbert Hoover he finds too soft. Both Eisenhower and Kennedy he regards as disasters of virtually Rooseveltian proportions. Although backing haughty Douglas MacArthur for the presidency, Hunt literally doted on Senator Joseph McCarthy, with whom he zestfully played cards and exchanged fraternal favors. For governor of Texas he backed morose General Edwin Walker, whose right-wing propagandizing forced him out of the Army, to the regret of a considerable congressional bloc. The political ideology of William Buckley, Jr. , himself a scion of a small-bore Texas oil fortune, makes a strong appeal to Hunt although he believes the volubly rhetorical Buckley uses too many big words. Hunt, unlike Buckley, sees nothing to be gained by repackaging a muted kluxishness in fancy language as a tortured endeavor in high moral aspiration. Hunt deeply admires Candyman Robert Welch, founder of the John Birch Society, George (Stand-in-the-doorway) Wallace of Alabama and others who stand forthrightly for the trammeling of common equity. According to the New York Times, Hunt's ideal Democratic ticket of 1964 would have been Harry F. Byrd of Virginia for president and Frank J. Lausche of Ohio for vice president with a Republican ticket consisting of Bourke B. Hickenlooper of Iowa and Roman L. Hruska of Nebraska.
Showing the earnestness of his beliefs, Hunt spends a good deal of priceless wildcatting time bombarding newspaper editors with cracker-barrel messages. For he believes that if the American people would only remove the scales from their eyes they would see that the nation is being subverted right and left. Among the subverters, as he sees it, are the governesses, nurses, tutors and teachers of the children of the established rich who grow up to become extreme leftists like W. Averell Harriman, Nelson Rockefeller, John Lindsay, G. Mennen Williams and John F. Kennedy--all alien to the cracker-barrel. One can see what they did even to language-frenzied William Buckley, Jr. It is very insidious. But although he almost from the first unpatriotic rejection of his cheap bid for valuable tidelands disliked Eisenhower, Hunt has not yet turned on his close friend Lyndon B. Johnson, of whom he said early in 1964:
"Johnson is the kind of President who can lead Congress around by its nose. I wouldn't mind seeing him in there for three terms. "
Hunt was born in Vandalia, Illinois, in 1890. He could read at age three and early displayed a phenomenal memory, which he has retained throughout the years. Like Henry Ford basically an intelligent but very partially informed man, he quit school in the fifth grade and became a drifter at thirteen. After wandering through the West as a barber, cowhand, lumberjack and gambler (Hunt still likes to gamble and claims to
trounce the racetrack bookies) he settled in Arkansas, where he became a moderately prosperous cotton farmer. Ruined by the collapse of cotton prices in 1921, he turned for lack of anything better to oil, and was literally swept off his feet toward riches. According to the Hunt legend, he struck oil on the first try with a drilling rig he bought with a $50 loan. Another version is that he won the money, or the rig itself, in a card game.
A wildcatter with little or no money must strike oil right away because, as Hunt himself testifies, only one in thirty attempts to get oil succeeds and the average cost of each attempt now is about $250,000. Hunt attributes his continued success to following the law of averages: If one keeps trying, one will eventually strike oil. He claims he has drilled as many as 100 dry holes in succession, which at $250,000 average per hole is $25 million.
After much successful drilling in Arkansas, Hunt shifted to East Texas, not then considered likely territory. But there aging C. M. (Dad) Joiner brought in the world's largest producing field. Hunt bought Joiner's discovery well, took a lease on 4,000 nearby acres and wound up with most of the Joiner land in a deal that many chroniclers profess to find mysterious. Hunt says he paid $1 million for the lands, money he had made in Arkansas. But Joiner, like most wildcatters, died broke, while the bubbling East Texas field swirled Hunt upward to oildom's Pantheon. He now, like most of the Texas oil men, operates all over the world, hobnobs with the Arab sheiks and plays oil politics wherein the white chips cost anything from $1 million to $10 million.
Suspected of being the financial angel of various far-out right-wing agitational groups, Hunt is regarded by some observers as dangerous. And in a sufficiently intense atmosphere he might be. But all of the various right-wing groups to which some politically unsophisticated wealthy people contribute as yet show no signs of being more than money-cadging rackets set up to squeeze a profit out of the fears of rich neurotics, No doubt they stir passions but their leaders couldn't stage a cracker-barrel putsch, much less set fire to the Capitol wastebasket. If Hunt is giving any of them money, it can only be his version of a share-the-wealth movement.
Hunt has been overheard introducing himself to strangers by chirping: "Hello, I am H. L. Hunt, the world's richest man. . . .
Clint Murchison and Sid Richardson
Joseph P. Kennedy is sufficiently recognizable as the sire of the late president to need no further identification. His career has been exhaustively investigated by Richard J. Whalen in The Founding Father, which is almost clinical in its penetration. Fortune seems to me to rate him on the high side. Many of the people on the Fortune list deliberately avoid public notice, attempting to blend, chameleonlike, into the background. One who confesses to this sort of shyness is Daniel K. Ludwig. The General Motors fortune-hunters and Henry J. Kaiser are rather fulsomely known to the public through newspaper reports and need not detain us.
Two oil men of a cut somewhat different from H. L. Hunt perhaps should be noticed. They are Clint Murchison and Sid Richardson, who often made a team with the Murchison sons. In some ways more ambitious than Hunt, they have also been more realistic. Although rightists politically, they have never showed a desire to play the role of a Fritz Thyssen in the American system. "
Murchison is the plain man as a multimillionaire, shirtsleeves, unassuming manner and all. His grandfather and father owned the First National Bank of Athens, Texas,
which Clint now owns, and Clint had a short stay at Trinity University, Texas, before entering the bank. Upon his demobilization from the Army in 1919 he encountered his boyhood friend Sid Richardson, who had also tried college and who was now dealing in oil leases. Because he liked trading for the sake of trading he joined Richardson. After a period of buying, selling and exchanging leases throughout the Southwest, barely keeping ahead of the game, Murchison pulled Richardson out of a poker game in Wichita Falls one night to investigate the rumor of a wildcat well near the Oklahoma border. They sneaked past guards close enough to smell oil, and the next morning they spent $50,000 buying regional leases. The following day they unloaded the leases for more than $200,000 and were off and running in a business way.
During the depression Murchison built up the Southern Union Gas Company and the American Liberty Oil Company, both later sold. Then he formed the Delhi-Taylor Oil Corporation, always rising higher on a flood of new oil.
Murchison is distinguished from most of the other Texas oil men by the breadth of his diversified non-oil interests and by his participation in a number of national financial coups with the alert Allen Kirby and the late Robert R. Young of the Alleghany Corporation.
As to his diversified interests, fie is virtually the sole owner of the Atlantic Life Insurance Company of Richmond, Martha Washington Candy Company of Chicago and Dallas, Waco and Austin taxi, bus and transit lines among various smaller interests. He is or was the dominant owner of the American Mail Line, Ltd. , of Seattle; Delhi-Taylor Oil Company; Holt, Rinehart and Winston, New York publishers; Diebold, Inc. , office equipment; and a chain of small Texas banks as well as miscellaneous other goodies. He has a substantial interest in the Transcontinental Bus System; American Window Glass of Pittsburgh; and Southeastern Michigan Gas Company. Of course, even as this is being written, his holdings and those of his sons may shift in the unending succession of deals for which he is noted. His general strategy appears to be to pick up cheaply properties that do not appear to be living up to their potential and to make them into good earners by installing skilled managers. He gets wind of these properties, as do most wealthy men, through professional investment locators.
He was approached by the late Robert R. Young, a fellow Texan and the financial mentor of Woolworth's Allen Kirby in the Alleghany Corporation, and was asked to join the Young-Kirby forces in the 1950's in seeking control of the Morgan-Vanderbilt New York Central Railroad, the Pie? ta of railroad cognoseenti. Alleghany already controlled the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad, a lush earner. Murchison joined Young and brought Richardson with him. Between them Murchison and Richardson put $20 million on the line.
Clint, after talking with Young over long-distance, told Sid about the transaction on the telephone. "When the calls were over," says Cleveland Amory, who researched the Texans in their native habitat, "Richardson thought the deal was for only $10,000,000. Informed it was twice that, he called his partner back. 'Say, Clint,' he said, 'What is the name of that railroad? '"
The capture of the prize New York Central by this group made financial history, as they say.
Murchison and his sons also followed Alleghany Corporation and took a position in the stock of Investors Diversified Services, which controls a tangle of investment trusts with aggregate assets of more than $1 billion.
Richardson, Amory informs us, was a bachelor and lived around in various hotels and clubs. Amory assigned him a wealth exceeding a billion dollars, a figure few others
agree with. But he owned an island in the Gulf of Mexico where he hunted and fished. He declined to write letters and had no secretary; his office was in his hat. He owned a fleet of Cadillacs in Dallas and one each in every city he regularly visited.
In 1947 Richardson established the Sid W. Richardson Foundation of Fort Worth, Texas, which for the end of 1962 reported to the Foundation Directory net worth of $69,554,801. Benevolent grants for the year totaled $14,500, which hardly spread much sunshine among the heathen. In the meantime the income on this big accumulation most of the time since the fund was started would have been subject to maximum tax rates up to 91 per cent, more recently 77 per cent. The foundation, however, in a neat stroke, preserved all this income intact and saw to it that none of it went to paying for the costs of sacred national defense.
Murchison, widowed and remarried, owns a 75,000-acre ranch in Mexico's Sierra Madre Range. Here he has entertained the Duke and Duchess of Windsor and other ultra-magnificoes. In fact, he owns several homes; one has a room with eight beds "so a group of us boys can talk oil all night.
(Houston)
20. Michael Benedum $75-$100
Public school
(deceased 1961)
21. Donaldson Brown ditto
Virginia
(Baltimore)
Polytechnic
tute
22. George R. Brown ditto
college
(Houston)
23. Herman Brown ditto
college
(deceased 1962)
24. James A. Chapman* ditto
(Tulsa)
25. Leo Corrigan ditto
Public school
(Dallas)
26. Erle F. Halliburton*
(Duncan, Oklahoma)
27. Henry J. Kaiser ditto
Public school
(Oakland)
28. John W. Kicckhefer ditto
(Milwaukee)
29. John E. Mabee* ditto
(Tulsa)
30. John D. MacArthur ditto
Public school
(Chicago)
31. H. H. Meadows ditto
school
(Dallas)
Oil operator
Oil operator
45 Some
62 Some
General Motors executive
Oil operator
Oil operator 88
General Motors 72
and Du Pont executive
Public construction
Public construction
Oil operator
Insti 59 Some
65 Some
Real estate and 63
hotel operation
Oil well equipment
Public construction 75
Paper, containers
Oil operations
Insurance promotion 60
Oil operator
58 Law
32. Charles S. Mott
Stevens Institute
(Flint)
Technology
33. James Sottile, Jr.
Public school
(Miami)
34. George W. Strake*
(Texas)
35. Louis Wolfson
college
ditto General Motors exec. 82
of
ditto Banking 44
ditto Oil operations
ditto Financial operator 45 Some
New York)
*Not listed in Who's Who 1956-57, 1964-65.
In general, American politics are not nearly so brusque, arbitrary and doctrinaire as Russian politics. But those carried away by the lullaby of American democracy should consult the harsh experience of the Negro and other repressed groups in the American system. There matters begin to take on a distinctly Russian complexion.
As to the sources of the big incomes (those above $500,000 and over $1 million), Appendix A shows that the aggregate received in this category includes comparatively little in salaries or partnership profits. Receipts in the form of dividends and capital gains, interest and other forms of property return, were comparatively colossal. The 398 persons in the $1 million-plus income class in 1961, for example, took only $18,607,000 in salaries, an average of $46,753, and $10,503,000 in partnership profits but took $259,574,000 in dividends, $434,272,000 in capital gains, $8,754,000 in interest, $3,163,000 from trust funds (not including capital gains from such) and $2,371,000 from rents and royalties. The group as a whole also absorbed $7,915,000 of business loss, more than offset by the interest it received. This, in brief, is not a group of workers even of the upper executive class, and the same holds true of the $500,000- $1,000,000 group of income recipients.
Fortune differentiated between inherited and personally assembled wealth. We will leave the inheritors for Chapter IV; examined above is the Fortune list of the new big wealth-holders, thirty-five in number.
Left off the Fortune list but referred to in its text were Dr. Martin Miller, New Orleans surgeon, with a reported annual income of $7-$8 million from oil royalties; E. V. Richards, New Orleans real estate operator estimated by Fortune to be worth $50-$100 million; and Matilda Geddings Gray of New Orleans, who inherited an oil fortune of unstated present value from her father. Fortune also mentioned a sprinkling of new names in the $50-million bracket, but these persons need not detain us here.
Revision of the List
Under critical analysis, this list requires some pruning and rearranging, both with respect to the number of inclusions among the new big rich and to estimated size of holdings.
Only the probates of estates of those who have died since 1957 can give . us a clue to the value of the fortune, although even they cannot be decisive. But Michael Benedum, "King of the Wild-Catters," died in 1961 at the age of ninety-two and the probate of his will in Pittsburgh showed a net estate of $68,199,539, putting him only some 10 per
cent below Fortune's $75-$100 million range in which be appears. 4 I count this estimate a direct "hit," as holdings of this size can easily vary in value by 10 to 25 per cent from year to year, up or down.
Benedum left half his estate to the inevitable tax-evading foundation and after a number of specific bequests to relatives be left the residue to a nephew, Paul G. Benedum, who now ranks as a wealthy man of the lower ranks and directs the Benedum oil properties through his own holdings and those of the Benedum foundation. In passing, it may be noted that Benedum, as Fortune relates, had the amiable and rare habit of cutting younger and even menial employees in on some of his lucrative ventures; thus, a chauffeur who looked for no more than a steady $50 per week was so favored and predeceased his benefactor worth some $17 million.
Arthur Vining Davis, former head of the Mellons' Aluminum Corporation of America, died in 1962. The press report of his will played back the Fortune estimate of $400 million on his wealth,5 but the probate showed that Fortune had missed wildly on this one; it was too high by about 370 per cent. 6 The actual size of the Davis estate was $86,629,282. 83, not including $5 million of Cuban property. As there is no record of early Davis gifts large enough to have ever put him in the $400- to $700-million class of wealth-holder, on this one Fortune must be debited with a very bad miss.
There is no public evidence to justify such a high estimate by Fortune. As of December 11, 1939, according to a Securities and Exchange Commission study (TNEC study, Monograph No. 29, to be cited later), Mr. Davis owned 11. 4 per cent of Aluminum Company of America common and a brother owned . 96 per cent. Mr. Davis also owned 5. 41 per cent of the cumulative preferred. At-the 54-3/4 close for 1962 a block of 12 per cent of Aluminum common then outstanding was worth $140,397,615; 5. 5 per cent of the preferred was worth $3,128,547 at the year's high. At the record high of 133-1/2 in 1956, 12 per cent of Aluminum was worth $329,262,364.
This block of stock never could have put Davis into the $400- to $700-million class even in a momentary market flurry. As it was, he had obviously sold much of it at lower levels or transferred it to others off the record. He could not have sold at or anywhere near its high point because then the proceeds exceeding $300 million would have been in his estate; he was too old at the time to divest himself of any by gift under the provisions of the tax code.
The Davis will, after assigning $1 million and his home to his secretary, divided the estate into 100 shares. Of these, 50 were put into a public trust with the First National Bank of Miami, a nephew among the co-trustees; 25 were put into a public trust with the Mellon National Bank and Trust Company of Pittsburgh, the nephew and a son-in- law among the trustees. Ten shares went to the heirs of a deceased brother, 10 shares to a stepdaughter and 5 shares were set aside for inheritance taxes. Thus, 75 per cent of the estate escaped taxes. The tax-free income of the trusts was broadly designated for the usual charities and scientific, educational and religious work But the trustees, like those of many similar establishments, will continue to exercise the corporate voting power of the Davis holdings, which is what counts. Davis thus passed his financial power, diminished only by an overall tax of 5 per cent, on to his relatives.
In 1952 Davis had established another foundation, the Arthur Vining Davis Foundation, which, according to the Foundation Directory, 1964, at the end of 1961 had assets of only $1,379,672. So no earlier Davis wealth of substantial proportions appears to have escaped notice.
A report is not yet available on the estate of Herman Brown of the construction firm of Brown and Root, Inc. , of Dallas, who died in 1962.
Charles F. Kettering, research director of General Motors, died in 1958 and left an estate "conservatively" estimated at a little more than $200 million but no inventory was cited. " The bulk went to the Charles F. Kettering Foundation and a trust. At the end of 1962 the Foundation had assets of $72,020,128, according to the Foundation Directory; and as Kettering in his lifetime placed large sums for medical research, there seems no reason to question seriously the Fortune rating of the $200-million range. (One of the surer ways of spotting truly big wealth is that it shows itself in huge public transfers of assets during the lifetime of the owner. )
Alfred P. Sloan, Jr. , also appears to be justifiably rated. By the end of 1962 Sloan had conveyed to the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation assets then worth $222,715,014 at the market. Charles Stewart Mott, also of General Motors, had at the end of 1960 put assets worth $76,754,317 into a foundation bearing his name. The John L. Pratt Foundation of Fredericksburg, Virginia, however, at the end of 1962 had assets of only $88,753. But this structure can be looked upon as a prepared financial tomb to receive a large portion of the Pratt fortune, ,which can be tentatively accepted as close to or in the range laid out by Fortune.
It is evident that the Fortune estimates as checked against available probates show extremely wide variations, approximately correct at times but at other times far off the mark. It would, in fact, be remarkable if Fortune had found an unofficial way to being even approximately correct in all cases.
Ambiguity of the New Wealth
Additionally, one must notice that much of this "new money" is concentrated in real estate, promotional effort and uncertain oil prospecting. The owner of real estate or of oil-producing land holds something not readily translated into dollars. The independent oil prospector is subject to price fluctations, curtailment of politically arranged tax privileges and, in many parts of the world, confiscation. In any event, his wealth consists largely of estimated below-ground reserves, which may be erroneous. The real estate operator, in order to cash in, must find for his properties buyers, who are relatively scarce; and often the big realty operator is sitting on a slippery cushion of bank loans and mortgages. His own equity is seldom as imposing as the facades of his properties.
Few men on the list are in manufacturing or banking, where there is not only solid evidence of what an enterprise is worth but where the heavy money is found. And even big oil operators fall on evil days. Glenn McCarthy, who in 1949 threw open the Shamrock Hotel of Houston to a less-than-astounded world and who is more recently financially in an ambiguous position, is a case in point. Hence I would place a question mark after the name of nearly every independent oil prospector on this list with respect to the rated extent of his wealth. I do this for two reasons: Most of them own purely private companies and few publish balance sheets and income statements. Those that do, such as Murchison's Delhi-Taylor Oil Corporation, have years of deficit operations alternating with profitable years. What nonfinancial observers do is to look at a heap of assets, usually no more than leases and land concessions, and put some figure on the heap. They do not take into consideration offsetting liabilities--cost of leases, drilling equipment, political contributions and the like. This is not to deny that the oil men mentioned are wealthy in varying degrees.
Nor is this a point made in passing. The issue underlying my remarks is this: Are large fortunes, solidly comparable in size to the inherited fortunes, still being made in profusion by free-as-air rugged entrepreneurs in the American economy? Fortune, the
Wall Street Journal and most newspapers that follow the "party line" laid down by these over-arching publications say "Yes. " I say, most respectfully, "No. " In the upshot, the reader can make his own choice.
We have already seen that Arthur Vining Davis drops like the proverbial plummet from Fortune's $400-million class to the $86-million class in probate autopsy and I venture to say that most of the independent oil operators will, when they throw in their final hands, show similar downward variations from ebullient outside estimates. But I incline to keep Jacob Blaustein pretty much in the position Fortune assigned him because be is a full-scale operator, is high in national political councils and is a known big stockholder of the muscular Standard Oil Company of Indiana--a solid, old-line Rockefeller enterprise.
The J. Paul Getty Story
J. Paul Getty may be worth less than Fortune rates him, but Getty does not belong to the list of new wealth. Getty himself provides this information as well as his own comments on the Fortune estimate. As wealthy people seldom contribute to the discussion of their affairs, Getty's action was most unusual.
Getty, incidentally, was scarcely known except to business associates until the Fortune article appeared, crowning him the world's richest man. "Illustrative of the extent to which I had been able to maintain my anonymity through the years," Getty writes in his memoirs, "was a chance encounter with a former classmate I had not seen since my undergraduate days at the University of California at Berkeley. Meeting accidentally on a Los Angeles street in 1950, we recognized each other and stopped to reminisce for a few moments. 'By the way, Paul,' my former schoolmate asked me at one point in our conversation, 'who are you working for these days? '"8
Right after the article appeared, Getty relates, he became a sitting duck for a parade of interviewers, cranks, money-seekers and spongers.
As to the source of his wealth, Getty writes, his father died in 1930, worth $15,478,137. As early as 1916 the elder Getty was a millionaire oil prospector. He left the bulk of his estate to his wife but by 1916 he had entered into a 70-30 partnership with his son, allotting the latter, gratis, 300 of 1,000 newly issued shares of the Getty Oil Company. By the terms of his father's will Getty got only $500,000; "but I had no real need for more money; I had several millions of my own. "9 He owned, in fact, more than 30 per cent of Getty Oil.
Getty, in brief, is an inheritor. The son of a wealthy oil operator, he completed his formal education at Oxford University before World War I and was brought in on the ground floor as a junior partner of a going business where he did well.
In 1930 Getty was elected vice president and general manager of George F. Getty, Inc. , but the controlling interest remained with his mother and former associates of the elder Getty. Young Getty, in order to protect the company's position, urged the acquisition of additional shares of companies in which the Gettys already had interests, but his elderly associates held back and young Getty went ahead on his own account. He first bought 160,000 shares of Pacific Western Oil Company at $7 a share: $1,120,000. He next started buying Tidewater Associated Oil Company in the open market at $2. 50 a share, depression-low prices, and acquired 285,004 shares for $923,285. 30 or an average price of $3. 59. 10
Getty, schooled by his father to reach only for aces, was out to get control of Tidewater. He found himself blocked by the powerful Standard Oil Company of New
Jersey but, with some unexpected luck, delicately outfenced this giant and finally got control of Tidewater and the Mission Corporation, which the New Jersey company had formed to hold its own Tidewater stock. He also picked up at bargain prices the Hotel Pierre in New York, and the Skelly Oil Company, which owned the Spartan Aircraft Company. In the meantime his mother had assigned her Getty shares to a trust for her grandchildren, with J. Paul Getty as sole trustee.
In 1963 Getty, after accepting Getty oil stock for his various independent holdings, held 12,570,939 shares of the Getty Oil Company, which now owns all or nearly all of Tidewater, Mission, Mexican Seaboard, Skelly and a good many others. 11 These shares in the same year, by the company's audited computation had a net tangible underlying value of $31. 21. This single holding alone, then, was solidly worth $392,339,006. 19 and is only part of the family holding. By late 1967 the market value of J. Paul Getty's Getty Oil holding's had advanced to around $1 billion $200 million.
As Getty personally has always liked to stand free and clear of banks, one may suppose none of it is up for collateral against hidden loans. Add here and there any stray properties Getty may own, consider that he has made. provisions for his sons and grandchildren going beyond those of his mother's trust fund, and one sees looming before one an authentic very large fortune, new in its latter-day magnitude at least, although not in its origin. Aside from the Sloan, Kettering, Pratt and Mott General Motors fortunes, all post-1918 jobs, it is one of the few so-called new big ones we can accept without demur (other than denying it is new) from the Fortune list. Had Getty not had money and insight provided by his father he could not have picked up these companies.
Getty, commenting on his elevation to hyperbolic billionaire status, said "there is no such thing as a billionaire among active businessmen, not in the sense that most people would understand the term, An individual may own or control business enterprises worth a billion dollars or even more, but little of his rated wealth is available to him in cash. A millionaire or billionaire does not have his millions on deposit in his personal checking account. The money is invested in his businesses.
"It is impossible for him to know what his investments are really worth at any given time. The values of a businessman's holdings fluctuate greatly. The price of stocks may rise or fall, corporations may show major increases or decreases in their net worth, innumerable variables may multiply the value of an investment or wipe it out completely. "12
Getty's entire life has been subdued in pitch. He went to school quietly--first to the University of Southern California, later to the University of California and then to Oxford. He traveled the world quietly, went into business with his father quietly and later bought large amounts of stock very cheaply--and quietly. He was married quietly seven times and as quietly divorced, with no hint of scandal. In his memoirs he quietly takes the blame for his marital failures and speaks with quiet commendation of his various wives. He appears to have quietly evaded politics and politicians at all times. In more recent years he has lived quietly in the baronial halls of Sutton Place, his English manor house, and will one day no doubt die quietly and quietly leave his swollen fortune to foundations and to his four sons and many grandchildren. Getty, beyond doubt, has been the all-time ghostly atypical presence in the procession of American wealth. When he speaks--and he has been interviewed on TV--he speaks, yes, very quietly.
H. L. Hunt and the Politics of Oil
Haroldson L. Hunt, No. 2 on Fortune's list, has been variously estimated as worth $250 million to $3 billion. 13 Forced to choose, I'd incline toward the lower figure; Fortune pegged him at $400-$700 million, leaving a good deal of leeway, But Hunt's fortune, like that of all the oil prospectors, rests literally in the sands and in money- inflamed politics, domestic and foreign. He no doubt holds a good hand, but one may doubt that it harbors a royal flush.
Hunt, a small-town cracker-barrel philosopher (in this aspect very much resembling the late Andrew Carnegie and Henry Ford) and overburdened with wildcatted possessions beyond his own wildest, wildcatting dreams, first came to national political notice during the 1950's (much as Henry Ford did in the early 1920's) as a rabble- rousing propagandist for hard-nosed right-wing political points of view. For Hunt takes seriously what he has heard around the town cracker-barrel. The violence of the diatribes in his subsidized radio programs--carried to 331 cracker-barrel stations--led many observers to see them as having at least helped nurture the mood for the assassination of President Kennedy. The programs, seeming overtures to schrecklichkeit, are prepared and taped by a stable of about twenty-five henchmen Hunt maintains in Washington, D. C. In general, views blandishing to the Ku Klux mentality are broadcast. 14
On the very morning of President Kennedy's assassination--in Texas--the Hunt radio program in Dallas and other areas predicted pessimistically that a day was soon coming when American citizens would not be allowed to own firearms with which they could oppose their rulers, an important function of red-blooded free citizens in the cracker- barrel point of view. Of a communist society (thought by cracker-barrel pundits to be imminent in the United States) the Hunt commentator said forebodingly: "No firearms are permitted the people because they would then have the weapons with which to rise up against their oppressors. "
Hunt staged his alarmist programs through a series of incestuous foundations--Facts Forum, Inc. , the Life Line Foundation and Bright Star Foundation, none of which is listed in the very complete Foundation Directory, 1964, issued by the Russell Sage Foundation. Until early 1965 (after the assassination of President Kennedy: that is), despite many strongly sponsored protests, Hunt seemed to have mysterious and powerful friends in or behind the Internal Revenue Service, which granted these propaganda foundations complete tax exemption. The Life Line Foundation originally got tax exemption as a religious organization!
To his fingertips the pecuniary man as well as cracker-barrel philosopher, Hunt further improved his position by soliciting business donations for his foundations and giving his own food and patent-medicine companies reduced advertising rates on his radio programs. For H. L. Hunt believes in killing whole flocks of birds with a single stone.
One of Hunt's many immortal quoted sayings is: "Everything I do, I do for a profit. "
There is also the H. L. Hunt Foundation, founded in 1954, a financially anemic affair with assets at the end of 1961 of only $799,553, according to the Foundation Directory, and which in that year made charitable grants of a stupendous $17,500. No doubt it is this lithe creation that is destined to receive and immortalize any portion of Hunt holdings in flight from inheritance taxes.
Although Hunt--silver haired, soft-spoken, frugal, a food faddist-is very rich, few people are able to say they have ever seen the color of his money. He has never been known to contribute in the presence of witnesses more than $250 to $500 to any single political candidate; and in 1956 he gave the Republican Party, over the counter, a mere $38,000. In 1952 the Republicans tried to entice $300,000 from him, but Hunt came up
with only $5,000--this, at least, is according to the public role of penny-pincher that he plays.
But owing to the vastness of his landholdings, sprawling over the Southwest and the Middle East, and his seemingly uncanny ability to obtain high-level political chaperonage at crucial moments, realistic observers surmise that Hunt is passing out large sums under the table. "He must have a front man he spreads his money through," hostile Senator Ralph Yarborough of Texas has said. "A man with that kind of bank roll is bound to have. "
It is rumored in Texas, according to the New York Times (August 17, 1964), that Hunt put up $150,000 to get General Douglas MacArthur the Republican presidential nomination in 1952 and that he put up $100,000 for the Kennedy-Johnson ticket in 1960 owing to his longstanding friendship with Lyndon B. Johnson. Booth Mooney, the Hunt public relations man in Washington, wrote the authorized The Lyndon Johnson Story in 1956, updated in 1964; and Lyndon Johnson is an old friend of the oil depletion allowance as well as of Hunt. Although Senator Barry Goldwater in 1964 stood forthrightly for straight Hunt political wisdom, Hunt testily denied that he was supporting Goldwater against the old Huntsman, L. B. J.
One must agree with Senator Yarborough that Hunt and other Texas oil men are passing money (or some equivalent) to political figures. If they didn't, they wouldn't have the depletion allowance, ostensibly passed as a defense measure to stimulate the search for oil but also serving the useful function of providing a politician's entering siphon into the oil Golconda. There might instead be a special high tax on oil!
Here we touch the edge of a problem: Why, if the independent oil men are so favored by nature and politicians, do they show this political rancor? True, not all the oil men are so perturbed as Hunt and some others, who apparently feel that their easy-come wealth could as easily be whisked away; many of the more realistic, less anxiety-prone Texas oil crowd speak of themselves as just plain lucky and see no need for making the world safe for future wildcatters.
But H. L. Hunt is an expression in exaggerated form of the irritation and resulting apparent meanness of many oil independents, even though most oil men appear to regard him as more than a little kooky. What produces this irritation? There is, first, the annual tax bill. Some of the successful oil men write annual checks for the Internal Revenue Service in amounts that would stagger the ordinary man. And most of the oil men are ordinary men who early in their lives worked long hours for small wages. The men who write these checks still think in terms of the original $20-a-week roustabout. And while it is frequently said that one wouldn't mind writing big tax checks if one had the big incomes, to have worked in one's early life on the supposition that what one acquired one could keep and then to learn after hitting it big that one must share to some extent with the government--or politicians--is more than some persons can swallow gracefully. Some of the oil men, Hunt included, feel very much the way a man earning $60 a week would feel if he was told the withholding tax was to be $50. They just aren't psychically attuned to their new positions. On top of the tax bite, very much softened by the depletion allowance and drilling write-off, the oil men find they must share what is no doubt a good part of the depletion benefits with hungry politicians in the form of "campaign contributions. " And for these political contributions they feel the politicians ought to deliver more. The politicians, to extenuate their less than totalitarian success, no doubt report that there are various obstacles in the form of Liberalism, Communism, Socialism, Eastern Capitalists, Labor Unions, Welfarism and a world full of Wrong- Thinking People all the way from college professors and journalists to Supreme Court justices. The enormity of it all, the injustice of all these misguided people stirring a
witch's brew with which to annoy Horatio Alger's own darling boys out on the oil frontier, finally becomes more than human flesh--or at least H. L. Hunt's flesh--can stand.
Hunt has seen it all at first-hand, indeed. He has regularly attended the national conventions of both parties, keeping his ears close to the ground, his eyes sharp and his nose clean for any whiff of Godless un-Americanism. And there is, as God only knows, much of it around, in the very Constitution itself!
There is, too, the milieu of Texas as a force shaping Texas consciousness. For Texas has very much the economic and political status of a colony, as also have many far less bustling western states. In the words of Senator Wilbert (Pappy) Lee O'Daniel, Texas is "New York's most valuable foreign possession. "
The widely traveled John Gunther in 1947 found that "Texas reminded me a good deal of Argentina . . . cattle culture, absentee ownership, vast land holdings by semifeudal barons, a great preoccupation with weather, an under-developed middle class, interminable flatness and open spaces, and fierce political partisanship and nationalism. And . . . reaction closely paralleling that of Argentina. " 15
Most of the state is in fact absentee-owned by big eastern capital. The largest enterprise in the state is the Humble Oil and Refining Company, subsidiary of the global Standard Oil Company of New Jersey, the annual gross revenue of which exceeds the combined revenues of thirty state governments--$11. 471 billion versus $11. 375 billion in 19,65. The operations of the huge eastern enterprises--Du Pont, U. S. Steel, General Motors, Dow Chemical and various others--are splattered right and left. And many of the prominent men in the state, Hunt included, originate elsewhere, are in effect colonial concessionaires. Many Texas oil men are not native Texans at all.
With a thin layer of native wealthy and imported representatives of big corporations at the top, bellowing the glories of Texas in history and contemporary culture, most Texans find themselves somewhat dazedly in the low-income classes, dirt poor--in fact, colons. Gunther was told in Texas that twenty corporations ran the state, but he thought this exaggerated. I don't think so. At least, the rank and file colons, many close to peons, do not run it--and they know it.
Texas boastfulness, free-swinging behavior and loud talk about independence of spirit are all a compensatory reflex to the feeling, deep in many Texans, that they are dusty puppets manipulated from outside. Some informed Texans amuse themselves sardonically by giving visitors the home addresses in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, even Amsterdam, of the owners of prominent items of Texas property.
One word fits the general Texas political consciousness from high to low: resentment. And some of Hunt's outpourings have awkwardly expressed simply this.
As to colonialism, it shows itself everywhere in this way: One can see a great deal going out--cattle, cotton, oil, minerals, chemicals--but little or nothing coming in. The dividends go out, too. Texas, like Pittsburgh seventy-five years ago, is being bled grey, if not white.
The niggardliness of Hunt's known political handouts is thought to derive from the position that, although Hunt may like a man's political stance, he does not like to back losers. His political contributions, like those of the oldline magnates, are not made to support or propagate principles so much as to purchase instant influence in government. In this respect he seems, if reports are true, cut from the same bolt as the late Henry J. Havemever, the sugar magnate, who testified before the United States Industrial Commission that he habitually contributed to both political parties (as do the oil men) and explained: "We get a good deal of protection for our contributions. "
Hunt, lamentable to relate, has had some hard times with cruel politicians. When he bid $17 an acre on offshore oil tracts that the government ordinarily leased at $406 an acre he was unsympathetically rebuffed by Secretary of the Interior Frederick Seaton. Hunt thereupon procured Senator Everett M. Dirksen and Representative Charles A. Halleck, statesmen of the purest Republican strain, to convoy him to a protest interview with Seaton. This eyeball to eyeball confrontation came to naught, But after the tidelands were transferred under Eisenhower to state jurisdiction--for which the well- heeled oil lobby had worked every bit as hard as wildcatters on a hot tin roof--Hunt found Texas Governor Allan Shivers, a board member of Hunt's Facts Forum, far more accommodating. In this matter Shivers's land commissioner, Bascom Giles (before he was bundled off to the state penitentiary for getting caught cheating the state in another quarter), approved all of Hunt's bids for more than 100,000 acres of tidelands leases, even though Hunt bid an average of $6 an acre while the average over-all bid was $78. As I remarked, Hunt is frugal and this frugality--aided by his knowledge of governors-- has helped make him wealthy in a nation where people are so foolish as to pay whatever it says on the price tag.
The last president of whom Hunt fully approves was Calvin Coolidge; even Herbert Hoover he finds too soft. Both Eisenhower and Kennedy he regards as disasters of virtually Rooseveltian proportions. Although backing haughty Douglas MacArthur for the presidency, Hunt literally doted on Senator Joseph McCarthy, with whom he zestfully played cards and exchanged fraternal favors. For governor of Texas he backed morose General Edwin Walker, whose right-wing propagandizing forced him out of the Army, to the regret of a considerable congressional bloc. The political ideology of William Buckley, Jr. , himself a scion of a small-bore Texas oil fortune, makes a strong appeal to Hunt although he believes the volubly rhetorical Buckley uses too many big words. Hunt, unlike Buckley, sees nothing to be gained by repackaging a muted kluxishness in fancy language as a tortured endeavor in high moral aspiration. Hunt deeply admires Candyman Robert Welch, founder of the John Birch Society, George (Stand-in-the-doorway) Wallace of Alabama and others who stand forthrightly for the trammeling of common equity. According to the New York Times, Hunt's ideal Democratic ticket of 1964 would have been Harry F. Byrd of Virginia for president and Frank J. Lausche of Ohio for vice president with a Republican ticket consisting of Bourke B. Hickenlooper of Iowa and Roman L. Hruska of Nebraska.
Showing the earnestness of his beliefs, Hunt spends a good deal of priceless wildcatting time bombarding newspaper editors with cracker-barrel messages. For he believes that if the American people would only remove the scales from their eyes they would see that the nation is being subverted right and left. Among the subverters, as he sees it, are the governesses, nurses, tutors and teachers of the children of the established rich who grow up to become extreme leftists like W. Averell Harriman, Nelson Rockefeller, John Lindsay, G. Mennen Williams and John F. Kennedy--all alien to the cracker-barrel. One can see what they did even to language-frenzied William Buckley, Jr. It is very insidious. But although he almost from the first unpatriotic rejection of his cheap bid for valuable tidelands disliked Eisenhower, Hunt has not yet turned on his close friend Lyndon B. Johnson, of whom he said early in 1964:
"Johnson is the kind of President who can lead Congress around by its nose. I wouldn't mind seeing him in there for three terms. "
Hunt was born in Vandalia, Illinois, in 1890. He could read at age three and early displayed a phenomenal memory, which he has retained throughout the years. Like Henry Ford basically an intelligent but very partially informed man, he quit school in the fifth grade and became a drifter at thirteen. After wandering through the West as a barber, cowhand, lumberjack and gambler (Hunt still likes to gamble and claims to
trounce the racetrack bookies) he settled in Arkansas, where he became a moderately prosperous cotton farmer. Ruined by the collapse of cotton prices in 1921, he turned for lack of anything better to oil, and was literally swept off his feet toward riches. According to the Hunt legend, he struck oil on the first try with a drilling rig he bought with a $50 loan. Another version is that he won the money, or the rig itself, in a card game.
A wildcatter with little or no money must strike oil right away because, as Hunt himself testifies, only one in thirty attempts to get oil succeeds and the average cost of each attempt now is about $250,000. Hunt attributes his continued success to following the law of averages: If one keeps trying, one will eventually strike oil. He claims he has drilled as many as 100 dry holes in succession, which at $250,000 average per hole is $25 million.
After much successful drilling in Arkansas, Hunt shifted to East Texas, not then considered likely territory. But there aging C. M. (Dad) Joiner brought in the world's largest producing field. Hunt bought Joiner's discovery well, took a lease on 4,000 nearby acres and wound up with most of the Joiner land in a deal that many chroniclers profess to find mysterious. Hunt says he paid $1 million for the lands, money he had made in Arkansas. But Joiner, like most wildcatters, died broke, while the bubbling East Texas field swirled Hunt upward to oildom's Pantheon. He now, like most of the Texas oil men, operates all over the world, hobnobs with the Arab sheiks and plays oil politics wherein the white chips cost anything from $1 million to $10 million.
Suspected of being the financial angel of various far-out right-wing agitational groups, Hunt is regarded by some observers as dangerous. And in a sufficiently intense atmosphere he might be. But all of the various right-wing groups to which some politically unsophisticated wealthy people contribute as yet show no signs of being more than money-cadging rackets set up to squeeze a profit out of the fears of rich neurotics, No doubt they stir passions but their leaders couldn't stage a cracker-barrel putsch, much less set fire to the Capitol wastebasket. If Hunt is giving any of them money, it can only be his version of a share-the-wealth movement.
Hunt has been overheard introducing himself to strangers by chirping: "Hello, I am H. L. Hunt, the world's richest man. . . .
Clint Murchison and Sid Richardson
Joseph P. Kennedy is sufficiently recognizable as the sire of the late president to need no further identification. His career has been exhaustively investigated by Richard J. Whalen in The Founding Father, which is almost clinical in its penetration. Fortune seems to me to rate him on the high side. Many of the people on the Fortune list deliberately avoid public notice, attempting to blend, chameleonlike, into the background. One who confesses to this sort of shyness is Daniel K. Ludwig. The General Motors fortune-hunters and Henry J. Kaiser are rather fulsomely known to the public through newspaper reports and need not detain us.
Two oil men of a cut somewhat different from H. L. Hunt perhaps should be noticed. They are Clint Murchison and Sid Richardson, who often made a team with the Murchison sons. In some ways more ambitious than Hunt, they have also been more realistic. Although rightists politically, they have never showed a desire to play the role of a Fritz Thyssen in the American system. "
Murchison is the plain man as a multimillionaire, shirtsleeves, unassuming manner and all. His grandfather and father owned the First National Bank of Athens, Texas,
which Clint now owns, and Clint had a short stay at Trinity University, Texas, before entering the bank. Upon his demobilization from the Army in 1919 he encountered his boyhood friend Sid Richardson, who had also tried college and who was now dealing in oil leases. Because he liked trading for the sake of trading he joined Richardson. After a period of buying, selling and exchanging leases throughout the Southwest, barely keeping ahead of the game, Murchison pulled Richardson out of a poker game in Wichita Falls one night to investigate the rumor of a wildcat well near the Oklahoma border. They sneaked past guards close enough to smell oil, and the next morning they spent $50,000 buying regional leases. The following day they unloaded the leases for more than $200,000 and were off and running in a business way.
During the depression Murchison built up the Southern Union Gas Company and the American Liberty Oil Company, both later sold. Then he formed the Delhi-Taylor Oil Corporation, always rising higher on a flood of new oil.
Murchison is distinguished from most of the other Texas oil men by the breadth of his diversified non-oil interests and by his participation in a number of national financial coups with the alert Allen Kirby and the late Robert R. Young of the Alleghany Corporation.
As to his diversified interests, fie is virtually the sole owner of the Atlantic Life Insurance Company of Richmond, Martha Washington Candy Company of Chicago and Dallas, Waco and Austin taxi, bus and transit lines among various smaller interests. He is or was the dominant owner of the American Mail Line, Ltd. , of Seattle; Delhi-Taylor Oil Company; Holt, Rinehart and Winston, New York publishers; Diebold, Inc. , office equipment; and a chain of small Texas banks as well as miscellaneous other goodies. He has a substantial interest in the Transcontinental Bus System; American Window Glass of Pittsburgh; and Southeastern Michigan Gas Company. Of course, even as this is being written, his holdings and those of his sons may shift in the unending succession of deals for which he is noted. His general strategy appears to be to pick up cheaply properties that do not appear to be living up to their potential and to make them into good earners by installing skilled managers. He gets wind of these properties, as do most wealthy men, through professional investment locators.
He was approached by the late Robert R. Young, a fellow Texan and the financial mentor of Woolworth's Allen Kirby in the Alleghany Corporation, and was asked to join the Young-Kirby forces in the 1950's in seeking control of the Morgan-Vanderbilt New York Central Railroad, the Pie? ta of railroad cognoseenti. Alleghany already controlled the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad, a lush earner. Murchison joined Young and brought Richardson with him. Between them Murchison and Richardson put $20 million on the line.
Clint, after talking with Young over long-distance, told Sid about the transaction on the telephone. "When the calls were over," says Cleveland Amory, who researched the Texans in their native habitat, "Richardson thought the deal was for only $10,000,000. Informed it was twice that, he called his partner back. 'Say, Clint,' he said, 'What is the name of that railroad? '"
The capture of the prize New York Central by this group made financial history, as they say.
Murchison and his sons also followed Alleghany Corporation and took a position in the stock of Investors Diversified Services, which controls a tangle of investment trusts with aggregate assets of more than $1 billion.
Richardson, Amory informs us, was a bachelor and lived around in various hotels and clubs. Amory assigned him a wealth exceeding a billion dollars, a figure few others
agree with. But he owned an island in the Gulf of Mexico where he hunted and fished. He declined to write letters and had no secretary; his office was in his hat. He owned a fleet of Cadillacs in Dallas and one each in every city he regularly visited.
In 1947 Richardson established the Sid W. Richardson Foundation of Fort Worth, Texas, which for the end of 1962 reported to the Foundation Directory net worth of $69,554,801. Benevolent grants for the year totaled $14,500, which hardly spread much sunshine among the heathen. In the meantime the income on this big accumulation most of the time since the fund was started would have been subject to maximum tax rates up to 91 per cent, more recently 77 per cent. The foundation, however, in a neat stroke, preserved all this income intact and saw to it that none of it went to paying for the costs of sacred national defense.
Murchison, widowed and remarried, owns a 75,000-acre ranch in Mexico's Sierra Madre Range. Here he has entertained the Duke and Duchess of Windsor and other ultra-magnificoes. In fact, he owns several homes; one has a room with eight beds "so a group of us boys can talk oil all night.
