Chapter 7 Life in New York
Though Lew had constantly tried, he had not yet found a position that he liked and that
would relieve our financial worries. He asked little for himself and he never complained,
but it hurt him, for my sake, that we had to live so carefully. Yet, though we hardly
ever went out for dinner, he insisted on going to the theater once a week. America was at
war and we, who had lived through so much war in Europe, were astonished how little
The end of the war seemed to affect people in America, with exception of those, of course, whose sons or husbands were in the service.
There was no food shortage. Many items were rationed, but I remember only coffee and sugar having been really scarce, and once in a while you could not get the special meat you were looking for.
When I watched people around me and saw that everyone was working, I was dissatisfied with myself and became restless.
I had to remind myself again and again of the promise I had given myself, that Lew's
work and well-being should be the main purpose of my life. Though I tried to hide it, Lew
noticed my dissatisfaction and urged me to go back to the stage, but that was impossible
for a newcomer in a foreign country, especially in wartime without connections. Then he insisted
I should try radio, and that I did. For weeks I auditioned with WOR, CBS, and WNEW. I got
Without encouraging letters and was invited for further auditions, the result was always
the same, wait, come to our studio every day, we promise you, as soon as a part turns up
for you, you are going to get it.
But I could not wait weeks and months sitting around in studios and agencies, Lew needed
me at home.
Without me or a housekeeper, he was completely helpless, he did not even know how to boil
an egg.
Years later he would often say,
The greatest invention of the twentieth century is instant coffee.
Even I can fix myself something to drink.
It is easier than peeling an orange.
Lew never learned that his right hand could be used for other purposes than writing.
His manual dexterity was zero.
But I knew his weaknesses.
I had known them before we were married.
And perhaps I loved him the more for them.
The summer of 1942 taught us something about middle class America.
We went to the Poconos for our vacation.
Lew had chosen the hotel, a small, simple inn, with perhaps 30 guests in all.
The owner of the place picked us up at the station, and when we passed the churchyard,
she said, this is the cemetery, now we are slowly approaching the inn.
After a few days, Lew told me he thought it would have been more appropriate if she had
said, after a short stay in our inn, you will be rapidly reaching the cemetery.
The guests were all extremely friendly, and expected the same from us.
Lew's reserved ways, always polite, of course, tickled their curiosity, and they had to know more about us. Soon they found out that Lew was a writer and a professor, which meant to them he was a school teacher. And that all school teachers were paid poorly, they knew. They certainly had never met a scholar before.
One morning a woman told me, I read an article of your husband's in the Mercury, Inflation and You. How interesting it is to meet a writer. I read all through breakfast. You folks must tell me more about writing. How long would you say did it take your husband to do this article? What is he doing now?
You are from Austria, another said to me. Isn't that the country where the sheep come from?
Apparently, she had mixed up Austria with Australia. One lady complained to Lew,
Imagine the cheek, they have put a second boy in my son's room.
Without asking you, said Lew.
Oh no, she replied, they did not put him in his bed. That I never would have allowed.
Among the guests were two sisters, together perhaps one hundred and eighty years old.
They admired Lew greatly, and followed him wherever he went.
One day one of them told Lew that she had visited Columbia University, studied French, and loved to translate.
Just recently she said, I have done some interesting work.
What was it? Lew asked politely to show his interest.
We have a little nephew, she answered, who is 12 years old. He is a wonderful writer.
Recently he wrote a little story about his dog, and I translated it. Would you care to read it?
You can imagine how stimulating such people were for my husband. The result was that we hastily escaped after only two weeks. By this time, I understood him so well, he just had to give me a certain sign and I knew what he wanted.
When we came back to New York, life became somewhat more regular than before. We were often invited out, and at least twice weekly we saw guests at our home. During my free time, I was busy sending food parcels to Europe, mostly to England, where the need was great, and we had so many friends.
As I knew myself and my need for my work in a purposeful life, in 1943 I decided to take a course in English stenography and typing. If I could not get a job, I could help Lew, that was sure. I registered with the Delahunty Institute on 42nd Street, and for six months I went to school every day from nine to one, and every afternoon I sat down to do my homework. Shorthand seemed like a puzzle. It fascinated me.
I hardly had finished the course when I got a job with Sunborn & Company, a chemical firm, as private secretary to the president.
Had there not been a war and help so hard to get, I, a middle-aged beginner, would never have been chosen for the job.
To me it did not even seem real. I felt as if I were on stage again.
The scene was set in a beautiful office in the financial district of the city.
There were 125 employees, mostly young men and girls, who wasted much time at the water coolers and restrooms.
I often wondered how they ever could accomplish anything.
I alone would walk in and out of the president's office.
Nevertheless, I felt like a stranger.
Only on Fridays, when I, like the others, got an envelope with a paycheck, did I know that this was part of my new life, that it was real.
I did not stay even a year. Lew could not bear the thought of my coming home in the
rush hour, tired, and then having to prepare dinner and work in the kitchen. Since he still
did not have a secretary, I soon afterwards started to work for him. Lew was asked to
become a member of the Overseas Rotary Fellowship in New York. In the first years he attended
their weekly luncheons frequently. Later, when he was too deeply involved in his writing,
He went only to their annual banquet, where I accompanied him.
He had been a regular member of the Rotary Club in Vienna.
In Europe, the Rotary Clubs were somewhat different than those here in America.
In the old country, every Rotary member was the most distinguished representative of his
profession in the city.
During their meetings, they discussed important political, economic, and social questions.
That was why Hitler immediately dissolved not only the Freemasons, but also the Rotary
At the end of 1942, Lew started writing various articles for the New York Times. I assume
it must have been Henry Hazlitt, at that time an influential editor of the Times, who induced
him to write these articles. Though the slogan of the Times, then as today, was all the news
that's fit to print, and though these beautiful words have not changed in all these years,
The ideological tendency of the Times certainly has.
The best proof of this is their magazine and book review.
I wonder how often any conservative or libertarian could write an article for the New York Times
today.
They have one or two conservative news analysts, but they are purely tokens.
From March 28, 1942 to July 31, 1943, Lew wrote nine articles for the Times.
For each of them he received $10, but that was unimportant.
More important was that his name became familiar to the general reader, and the numerous letters
resulting from these articles were surprising.
These nine articles were titled, Hitler's Achilles Heel, The Nazis Under Blockade, Germany's
Transport Problems, Reich Gets Big Shock, The Problems of a Post-War Union of the Democratic
Unions, A New World Currency, Industrial Empires, Inflation and Money Supply, and British Postwar
Problems.
Another consequence of these articles was Lew's introduction to the National Association
of Manufacturers.
On January 4th, 1943, Noel Sargent, Secretary of NAMM, and Veda Horsch, the Assistant Secretary,
invited him to come and see them in their offices on 53rd Street.
They had read Lew's articles in the Times and wanted his views on how to terminate wage
and price controls.
These were the golden days of NAMM, theirs was the leading voice for free enterprise.
Shortly after this first meeting, he was invited to work with the Economic Principles Commission,
which was authorized by NAMM's President and Board of Directors and which functioned for
many years.
Lew was a contributing member of the special group that created a two-volume study called
The Nature and Evolution of the Free Enterprise System.
Lew's relations with the NAMM lasted from 1943 to 1954, giving him a forum where he
met all the important industrialists of the country, the most respected economists, and
the best-known businessmen.
In 1943, besides the numerous economic meetings and sessions with the NAMM on monetary reform
and Economic Principles, he was a member of a commission to study the Organization of Peace,
and he participated in Count Kudaihov's Pan-Europe Conference in March 1943.
On March 15th, 1943, he spoke on Aspects of American Foreign Trade Policy in the Faculty
Club of New York University.
On April 10th, he spoke in Boston at the 20th Century Association on Economic Nationalism
and Peaceful Cooperation, where he said, in short, economic nationalism is the root cause
of the international conflicts which resulted in two world wars. It was economic nationalism
that, on the one hand, drove the dynamic nations into aggression, and, on the other hand, prevented
the peaceful nations from stopping in time the rise of Nazism and from erecting a barrier
All plans for a better post-war order are futile if they do not succeed in eliminating protectionism and establishing free trade.
On November 10th and 11th he gave two lectures at Princeton.
It was a great financial relief for us when William J. Carson, the Executive Director of the National Bureau of Economic Research,
wrote to Lou that the Rockefeller Foundation had renewed his grant for another two years
had renewed his grant for another two years, to the end of November 1944. Also by this
time his connection with the Yale University Press had begun. See Chapter 8, The Story
of Human Action.
The next 25 years were positively the most productive and creative of Lew's life. I never
knew how he could manage, but he had time for everything and everyone. His mind and
and his time were equally well organized, and there was not a Saturday or Sunday, if
there was no NAM meeting, when he did not go with me to a museum or to an art gallery
in the morning, and to a theater in the evening.
I have already written about Professor Paul Manteau and mentioned his son Etienne. Etienne
was very dear to Lou. He had often attended his course in Geneva and came to the house
to converse with Lou, who thought Etienne to be one of the most promising scholars of
of the Future. At the beginning of the war, Etienne served in the French Air Force as
an observation officer on the Tsar Frontier. In 1941, under a grant from the Rockefeller
Foundation, he came to the United States for research at Princeton's Institute for Advanced
Studies. He was working on a book on canes, published in 1952 by Charles Scribner's sons.
He came to New York often, sometimes two or three times a month, to see Lew.
One special afternoon, Tuesday, March 16th, 1943, I will never forget. He came home early,
I served tea, we spoke about his parents, Paris, Geneva, the war, but soon I felt he
was impatient to talk to Lew about his own work. I excused myself and went out. At the
door before closing it, I turned around, and suddenly the couch where Etienne had been
You simply are imagining things. He is not in the Air Force anymore. But I saw he was uneasy and said this only to quiet me.
A short time afterward, Etienne returned to France and resumed his officer's duties in the Air Force.
On April 29th, 1945, hardly more than a week before the bells rang for victory and peace, his plane was shot down near a small Bavarian village in the Danube Valley, killing him.
Lew was deeply shocked and grieved. Etienne Manteau had meant so much to him, and Lew
later wrote in his article, Stones into Bread, The Keynesian Miracle. A highly gifted French
economist, Etienne Manteau has analyzed Keynes point for point. Etienne Manteau, son of the
famous historian Paul Manteau, was the most distinguished of the younger French economists.
He had already made valuable contributions to economic theory, among them a keen critique
of Keynes' general theory, published in 1937 in the Revue d'Economie Politique.
Before he began his The Carthaginian Peace, or The Economic Consequences of Mr. Keynes,
he did not live to see his book published.
As an officer in the French Air Force, he was killed in active service during the last
days of the war.
His premature death is a heavy blow to France, which is today badly in need of sound and
courageous economists.
This article was first published by Isaac Don Levine in Plain Talk, March 1948, and
was reprinted in Ludwig von Mises' Planning for Freedom.
In 1943, at a party with the Hazlets, we met Lawrence Vertig and his wife Bertie.
In all the years we knew her, we never heard her say an unkind word about anyone.
We always tried to understand and excuse human frailty. Over the years, the Fairtigs became
our closest friends. Haslett and Fairtig, who were close friends, had recognized immediately
that Lew, a genuine scholar, was not the type to publish only for money. So they both did
for Lew what he himself could not do. They made sure that, financially, Lew got ground
under his feet again. He could never ask for anything for himself, for his writing, yes,
not personally. One little episode may be significant. Lew always wanted me to travel
with him when he lectured, but he could not afford to pay for me. One day, it must have
been in the 40s, Haslett told Lew about an invitation he got for a lecture trip. He did
not want to go without Francis, so Haslett answered, Is Mrs. Haslett included in this
invitation? Of course, came the reply. From that day on, Lew followed Haslett's example,
and he did not have to travel alone anymore. In later years, Lew's invitations always included
me. A man like Lew could not have had a better friend than Hazlitt. His enthusiasm for Lew's
ideas, Lew's teachings, Lew's convictions was so honest, his thinking so parallel to
Lew's perception that he had the constant urge to write about Lew, to show the world
what it could gain by reading Lew's books and what it could lose by neglecting them.
Fertig was well known through his weekly column, which appeared for 17 years in the now defunct
World Telegram, through his book Prosperity Through Freedom, and through his frequent
appearances on television in political and economic discussions. In 113 of his columns,
he mentioned Lew not less than 18 times. Over more than 30 years, every Sunday morning when
we were in town, the telephone rang, Larry asking for Lew. They would talk for almost
Just an hour, this was the weekly review. Everything that had happened in economics
and politics, all the burning questions of the day would be discussed, and Lew gave his
forewarnings for the future.
Larry was more optimistic than Lew, though Lew at that time did not see the situation
of the United States as hopeless. He had confidence in the strength of America, confidence that
she would pull out of the difficult situation inflation had brought about. But whatever
Whatever he said and wrote contained a warning about the growing deficit in productivity
in comparison to America's supply of goods and services.
Almost immediately after Lew put down the receiver, the telephone would ring again.
This time it would be Henry Hazlitt, Harry to his friends.
This conversation would last another hour with different questions and answers, but
Lew's warnings were always the same.
These were the only two people with whom my husband really talked on the telephone, mostly
I answered. Appointments and arrangements were made through me. For Lew the telephone
was a necessary but disturbing means of communication. He tried to avoid it as much as possible.
A third of our very close friends was Philippe Courtney, who had lived in Paris. Courtney
was head of an important steel export firm in Paris and director of the executive committee
of the Banque Transatlantique of Paris. He was married to a former singer of the Opera
And when the Germans occupied France, the Courtneys came to the United States and made their home in New York, where Philippe joined the American branch factory of Coty, the renowned perfume manufacturer, becoming the firm's president.
Strangely enough, he hated the smell of perfume. He was not even able to recognize the difference between scents.
But he loved economics and reading, and very soon he became an enthusiastic admirer of
Lew's and a great friend of mine. He was, if I remember rightly, the first one to suggest
in a French newspaper that Lew deserved the Nobel Prize for Human Action.
Hortny was opposed to a government-fixed gold price, and he fought like a lion for his ideas.
If the government did or said anything that displeased him, a letter went off or an editorial
Philippe was the most hospitable and generous friend imaginable. For many years he invited
the family, as we called our little group, for dinner at the plaza. The round corner
table number one was always reserved for him. This was the table at which Helen Trouble and
Loritz Melchior used to dine with their friends after the opera. Our family included, besides
and to Lew and myself, the Haslitz and the Fertigs.
Philippe often invited other people to these dinners.
Bill and Mary Peterson, about whom I have written more elsewhere, were frequent guests.
One of the more regular participants was Dr. Albert Hahn, a well-known economist and banker.
Later, in the 50s, he returned with Nora, his beautiful wife, to Switzerland, where he died in 1968.
Albert Hahn's wit, humor and sarcasm fit splendidly into the atmosphere of these dinner parties.
Whenever a famous Frenchman whom Philippe knew was in town, he invited him to join us.
André Moiroy was Philippe's guest several times.
Never did Philippe receive his guests without a present for the ladies.
Every new lipstick his factory produced had to get the seal of approval from the lips of the wives of these favorite friends,
and all of us were at all times provided with the best of his perfumes.
King Arthur's round table dinners had a certain unforgettable color and charm.
The discussions were lively and animated.
Attentive service, good food and excellent wine elated and lubricated our minds.
We were gay but never noisy, and never, never was there any gossiping.
In retrospect, I would say that these evenings belonged to my fondest memories.
Lew always looked forward to these gatherings with as much pleasure as I did. He relished
those hours with friends who were so close to him and his way of thinking, for in their
congenial company he could talk without restraint. In August 1943 we again went to the White
Mountains, but this time we stayed at Ravine House. Again we made the most beautiful climbs.
On Monday August 9th we went up to Carter Dome. On August 12th we walked again up to
to Mount Washington, but this time via Gulfside Trail to Edmonds Cole and back via Randolph
Path to Ravine House. This excursion we made with our very good friends Luis and Lucy Rougier.
The Rougiers had to leave Paris when the Germans occupied France, and they remained in New
York during the war, living very close to us. We saw each other at least two or three
times weekly. On August 15th, Lou and I went up to Carter Notch. On the 16th, we hardly
on the 20th, we went to Dome Rock, where we met the Havelaires, mountain climbers like us.
On the 21st, we went to the Lookout Ledge and Crescent House, and on the 25th to Pine Mountain, and on the 27th to the Hudson Huts via Valley Way, returning via Knife Edge.
On one of these hikes, we unexpectedly met Richard, Lew's brother and his future wife, a well-known mathematician,
and for many years Richard's assistant, whom I had never met before. Lew always insisted
he would not work during the summer, that is to say, he would not write. He kept his
resolution so strictly that he did not even write to his friends. That was my task. That's
what I married you for, he joked. But on our walks I frequently saw him deeply lost in
thoughts. Then I would stay absolutely quiet. I knew how necessary this complete silence
was for the working of his mind, and I also knew that he was happy because, though lost
in his thoughts, he knew he was not alone, I was with him. From time to time he took
my hand or put his arm around my shoulder, never saying a word just to assure himself
that I was near. The next summer, 1944, we spent at Lake Placid where we met many friends,
made beautiful excursions, and decided in the end that New Hampshire was more to our
On our walks every day, Lew tried to convince me that I should not neglect what he called
my talent for writing, which he felt I proved so successfully in Vienna with my stage adaptations.
Write short stories, he told me, you can do it.
And he ordered a book for me to study the composition of short stories.
Actually, he said, there is only one important thing to observe.
You must build up the whole story for a surprise ending.
If you can do that, you have a good story.
That summer I wrote one short story after the other. I had ideas enough.
But when we came back to New York, I was much too busy working with Lew to be able to follow his advice.
On October 12th, 1944, Lew made his first long trip alone since our arrival in the United States.
He had not yet learned Haslett's prescription for getting me invited.
This trip was arranged by the NAMM advisory group, with the purpose of having Lew talk at two meetings, one in Los Angeles, the other in San Francisco.
For Los Angeles, he had chosen as his subject depression and unemployment. Are they inevitable?
In San Francisco, he was to talk about the crisis of free enterprise.
A letter that Lew got shortly before he left, signed J.A.R., name unreadable, Director of Braun Corporation Chemicals and Laboratory Supplies, Los Angeles, gives an interesting description of California at that time.
Southern California is very definitely and vitally interested in the problem of the depression and unemployment.
Probably we, in Southern California, have one of the most critical areas in the United States.
We are today practically a two-industry community, ships and planes.
I think that no citizen group in America is more keenly aware of the crisis of free enterprise than our group in Los Angeles.
There is one factor to which your attention should definitely be drawn.
Very probably you are already aware of the differences in thinking of business and industrial men in San Francisco and Los Angeles.
San Francisco has been a closed shop city for many, many years. Business executives up there have grown accustomed to this idea.
They have, we in Los Angeles think, a defeatist attitude. They are apparently making very little attempt to throw off any of the shackles of the closed shop.
In Los Angeles, on the other hand, our executives have seen Los Angeles develop from a second-rate city to a real power.
They attribute, and I agree with them, that much of this industrial growth has been due to the fact that Los Angeles has, during this long period of years, been able to maintain open shop conditions.
I bring this difference in these two cities to your attention to remind you of the different thinking which is being done in Los Angeles and in our sister city to the north.
For some time, Lew had been in correspondence with Leonard Reed, then General Manager of the Chamber of Commerce in Los Angeles.
In his first letter, dated June 4, 1943, Reed invited Lew for a series of lectures on behalf of Free Competitive Enterprise,
and he sent Lew a pamphlet published by the Los Angeles Chamber of Commerce.
Lew answered on June 12th,
The arena in which the fate of the West will be decided is neither the conference rooms of the diplomats nor the offices of the bureaucrats,
not the capital in Washington, not the election campaigns.
The only thing which really matters is the outcome of the intellectual combat between the supporters of socialism and those of capitalism,
The masses, those millions of voters who are supreme in democracy, have to learn that they are deluded by spurious doctrines, and that only market society and free enterprise can bring them what they want, prosperity.
But in order to persuade the crowd, you have first to convince the elite, the intellectuals and the businessmen themselves.
He agreed to give some lectures, and Reed proposed the date of October 20th, 1944, having heard that Lew would be in California around that time. He also invited him for dinner at his home to meet a group of outstanding men, among them my husband's good friend, Benjamin M. Anderson.
On Monday, October 16th, Lew arrived in Los Angeles, and for the next two days he was the guest of R.C. Hoyles, publisher of the Santa Ana Register.
During these two days he spoke twice, once at a forum lecture sponsored by the Register, about the causes of war, and once at the Santa Ana Rotary Club, about credit expansion and depression.
It was on October 18th, 1944, that Lew met Leonard Reed for the first time. Leonard Reed, who was to play such an important part in Lew's future. I would like Leonard to tell you about this first meeting in his own words.
It was during World War II, about 1944, that I met Dr. Mises. As General Manager of the Los Angeles Chamber of Commerce, I had invited him to address a meeting of our Board.
Mises outlined in his talk the inevitable path of government intervention. He pointed out how government regulation leads to problems and misfortunes its advocates had not anticipated.
If they do not realize that the causes of this mischief rest on the intervention by force of government, in the market they propose another and still another government intervention.
Each law is enacted in the attempt to cure the ills caused by the point of view of its proponents.
Until finally, the only opportunity that still seems open is to take the final steps leading to a completely controlled economy of the Nazi or Russian type.
It was a pessimistic picture that Mises painted in that lecture.
Each of us in the audience could see a parallel between the theory he presented and the path our own government was traveling,
with its wartime price and wage controls, priority in the allotment of raw materials, rationing of consumer goods, and the like.
After the talk, one of our audience questioned the speaker.
It is depressing prospect that you have outlined, Dr. Mises.
Considering the program our politicians have adopted, and its inevitable disastrous consequences,
what would you do if by chance you were made dictator of this country?
What first step would you take, Dr. Mises, if you could do just exactly as you wished?
Mises' eyes sparkled, and quick as a flash he replied with a grin,
I would abdicate!
With this statement, Mises endeared himself to me.
Here, I realized, was a truly consistent libertarian, one who really did not believe in using the
power of the government to bend people to his way of thinking.
Lew often wrote to me from the West, if only a few words.
On the train near Salt Lake City, he wrote on October 15th,
Darling, everything is okay.
It is awful to travel alone.
I am sorry you are not with me. I love you. Kisses, Lew.
On the 18th he wrote, Darling, I am through with three of my speeches and now can rest
a little. I was rather disappointed that there was no letter of yours here in the hotel.
Why, what does it mean? Tomorrow I have luncheon with Anderson. I kiss you.
The next day I got only three lines. You mean everything to me. Without you there is no
sun shining for me any more.
He was happy to come home again. I think the greatest impression Lew had on this trip was Leonard Reed's stag party. He told me what a surprise it was for him to see his host put on a chef's cap, an apron, and barbecue the steaks for dinner.
Lew observed, Never in my life have I eaten better broiled steaks than these. It was a new experience for him to see a well-read intellectual working in the kitchen.
On December 6th, 1944, Lew received the following letter from Dean E. Roland Collins of New York University.
My dear Professor, I have decided to recommend to the Chancellor and Council of the University that you be appointed to the faculty of the Graduate School of Business Administration
for the second semester of the academic year 1944 through 1945 as visiting Professor of Economics
to give two hours weekly instruction throughout the semester at a compensation of $1,000.
I propose that you offer a course to be called Statism and the Profit Motive, for which you have suggested the following description.
A critical examination of the viewpoints of the orthodox and unorthodox economists.
The various efforts to restrict the height of profits or to eliminate profits altogether are analyzed in detail.
Special attention is given to the policies of fixed commodity prices, wage rates, and interest rates at a level different from that determined by the unhampered interplay of market factors.
I know that you will understand that final appointment must away approval of the Chancellor and Council.
However, it is the general practice to approve the Dean's recommendations in these matters, so that we can assume that the matter is settled except for public announcement.
The course title that I have used, namely Statism and the profit motive, is subject to change. It may be that you would prefer simply the profit motive.
As always, when he got any letter of importance, Lew came into my room and silently gave me the letter.
Only when he saw my reaction, when he realized that I was happy, did he smile faintly, thus showing what the letter meant to him.
From now on, I knew our life would be changed. He had the opportunity to teach, to have young people share the wealth of his ideas, the clarity of his mind, the logic of his reasoning. I knew what teaching meant to him, and how he had missed it. And when, in January 1945, the letter of approval came from the Council of New York University telling him that the appointment was confirmed, he was happy.
It will always be a credit to New York University that it offered Lew this teaching opportunity at the Graduate School of Business Administration.
Until then, no big university in this country had offered him a chair.
That Dean Collins was a great friend and protractor of Lew's from the first day of their meeting was clear.
So was Dr. Dorot.
But the attitude of the other professors was cool.
They were very, very respectful, but Lew was not a man of their kind.
He was a stranger to them. When they went home, their work was done and science was buried for the evening with a drink or two, chatting with their family or friends, or enjoying a good game of sport on television.
Often I came to see Lew in his office. He later had a secretary and an assistant, and I noted the respect with which his colleagues treated him, but also the lack of personal warmth.
One of the few exceptions was Professor Lewis H. Haney, who once asked Lew to read the first chapter of his forthcoming book, History of Economic Thought, and do me the great favor of making a critical examination of the chapter, which Lew of course did.
Those courses at NYU were sometimes very exciting.
One of his former students, who wished to remain anonymous, I have to respect, told me,
four or five students had formed a group in order to protect the professor against dissident students who opposed his views.
They occupied a table ahead of the class next to the professor in order to be ready to protect him against any possible violence.
But actually, it never went that far.
This was not the only change brought about in 1945. That year, Lew's official connection with the National Bureau of Economic Research came to an end, though Lew always remained on friendly terms with the NBER.
This is part of a letter from William J. Carson of the NBER.
The National Bureau has been glad to extend its hospitality to you and to have contributed in this way to carry forward your studies of the economic factors and policies involved in the European crisis.
When you are in the vicinity of the National Bureau at 1919 Broadway or at Hillside, I hope you will always feel free to stop in and see us. Indeed, we hope you will make every effort to call when you can.
Also in 1945, Leonard Reed left California for New York to become Vice President of the National Industrial Conference Board.
Reed's purpose in coming east was to spread the libertarian ideas, which he was convinced were the only means to keep America and the world going.
He only stayed with the conference board for a year. He soon discovered that the flow of ideas for individual liberty was restricted by the influence of labor union leaders.
So some close friends, including J. Howard Pugh, B. E. Hutchinson, a vice president of the Chrysler Corporation, and H. W. Lunow, president of the Volcker Fund, got together and decided to establish their own institution to spread libertarian ideas.
They bought a beautiful estate in Irvington, New York, where in 1946 Leonard Reed established
the Foundation for Economic Education, or FEE, and became its president.
It was a touch of genius combined with a shrewd sense of business that caused Leonard to associate
Lew with FEE.
It was the best idea he ever had, for he knew pretty well that if he could anchor the most
eminent fighter for the free market to his foundation, not only the existence of the
The Foundation was assured, but it would arouse the widest interest all over the country.
In October 1946, Lew was made a regular member of the Fee staff, and in later years he promised
to give a series of lectures in Irvington every year.
The spiritual and intellectual atmosphere there was completely to his taste.
The Fee Mansion is located in a beautiful garden with tall old trees.
The lawn is kept immaculately and flowers bloom everywhere.
The house itself, built in 1888, has a dignity of its own. The rooms are large, the library
well stocked, and all over the place there is a harmony of quiet, concentrated working.
The creator of all this was Leonard Reed. The first one at his desk, at eight every
morning, he was the last one to leave in the evening. His studio was tremendously large,
and his oversized desk in a far corner reminded me of Mussolini, who had intentionally placed
Leonard Reed was quite the opposite. As soon as someone appeared at the always-open door, he got up, greeted his visitor, and made him feel at ease. Always working on an article or writing a new book, Reed found time to talk to everyone.
Aggie, Leonard's wife, was one of the most charming women I ever met. She was so delicate and lovely, so full of gaiety and laughter. Everybody loved her, even women. Never did Lew and I leave Fee without a big bunch of flowers she secretly put into our car. She died of cancer in 1974, and Leonard, after that, tried to work even harder than before.
One of the regular tasks of the Foundation was to arrange seminars for teachers, journalists, and students.
Lew enjoyed speaking there. He knew that the participants were carefully questioned about their education and interests, and were eager to hear him.
It was interesting to note how many women attended these seminars.
Before the classes started, Lew regularly made the rounds.
First he had a little talk with Reed, then he went to see Edmund O'Pietz, for whom he had a special appreciation.
Education. Then he visited with W. Marshall Curtis and Paul Poirot. Paul usually had to
discuss an article that he was about to publish in The Free Man, Fee's monthly magazine. Finally,
Lew went into Bettina Bien's office. As a rule, Bettina had a pile of his books ready
for him to autograph, or letters to sign, which were typed for him in her office. On
his way down to the lecture hall, all these offices, with the exception of that of Dr.
His lectures were calculated for a special Irvington audience. He was able to evaluate his listeners immediately by asking one or the other question. He counted on people who had read planned chaos and omnipotent government, but who had to be led up the road to human action.
Though the content of his lectures in Irvington was lighter, his mode of delivery was the same as at New York University.
The interest was great and so was the demand for Lew's books, which Leonard Reed always kept in print and ready for distribution.
For thirty years, Lew complained about the lack of a really good, serious, truthful libertarian magazine.
He always hoped that someone would bring together the people and the money to create a libertarian weekly or fortnightly, which he thought so necessary for the country. This was the dream and the greatest aspiration of his life.
Plain Talk, published by Isaac Don Levine, had folded. That magazine, and later The Freeman, financed by J. Howard Pugh and edited by Henry Hazlitt, came nearest to Lou's conception of a libertarian journal.
Isaac Don Levine, Russian-born, often joined our circle. He and Lew had more than one thing in common. Through education and experience, they both had a full understanding of Russian policies, and Lew, to the last year of his life, warned everyone to watch the communist doctrines.
In 1949, Don Levine wrote these warning words.
The premises for a constructive foreign policy are not subject to discovery by any advisory
board.
They are time-tested and well-known.
First, you must know your enemy and gauge the range of his operations.
In the present instance, that range is global.
Europe and Asia, the North and the South Poles are all on America's first line of defense.
Mind you, this was written in 1949.
Lew's contract with New York University was renewed through the years until 1949.
Mises brought his compensation to $2,000.
In 1947, we spent a few days in the Catskills, where Lew persuaded me to start writing a film script.
He gave me the idea, but I did not like it very much.
It had an historical subject, the Hessians, and from my feeling it was too dry.
But we finished it in one of the following country summers. It is still hidden somewhere in one of my drawers.
One morning on our way back to New York, I saw that Lew was especially tense while driving.
As I mentioned in an earlier chapter, he was never a good driver, and I never felt safe with him.
I offered to take the wheel, but he would not let me.
Half an hour later, near Sagartese, when he saw a truck coming toward us, he lost control of the car.
We crashed into a tree. I was thrown out of the car after my head had gone through the windshield. For a moment I was unconscious. Lew was apparently unharmed. In no time a doctor was there, giving me an injection. I was taken by ambulance to the hospital in Sagrates. I remember the first words I spoke to Lew as the doctor took care of me. I'll never drive with you again.
My cheekbone was broken. I was operated on, and when I was brought to my room, Lew was sitting quietly next to the bed. He was terribly pale and did not move. When he got up, I noticed the difficulties it caused him. I asked him whether anything was wrong, but he brushed my questions aside. I was almost certain that something had happened to him, and I asked the doctor to examine him. We discovered that Lew had broken five ribs. He must have suffered terrible pains, but he would not say a word, and as usual,
I kept my word. I did not ride with him again. He often asked me to let him drive. I told him he would have to drive alone, and as he never liked to drive alone, he had to give it up.
I was rather depressed the first few weeks after the accident. I had a big scar on my face. The car was smashed and would never be safe again, even if we had it thoroughly repaired.
Margot, you and Lew need a car. I don't want you to drive a car that is not absolutely safe. There is a tempest waiting for you at the Pontiac Garage. See whether you like it. It's yours.
How well he understood Lew. He wanted to help him overcome his self-reproaches and lift me out of my blues.
Lu. He wanted to help him overcome his self-reproaches and lift me out of my blues. It took me quite
a while until I had fought my fear and could drive again. The car gave me tremendous pleasure.
Every Sunday we went into the country, usually taking some friends along. Until they left
New York to live in Switzerland, Dr. and Mrs. Rudy Klein often came with us. Rudy had been
a student of Lu's in Vienna. He and his wife, Lilo, who lived in our neighborhood, were
were good companions and close friends of ours, and loved hiking as much as we did.
Rudy had a wonderful memory, and he remembered conversations with Lou decades earlier. Once
he reminded me of an afternoon shortly after America had entered the war in 1941, when
he and Lilo had tea with us in our apartment. Another guest was the son of the famous Italian
economist Luigi Ainaudi. The younger Ainaudi was greatly worried about the fate of his
and his native country under German mastery.
Lew tried to encourage him, saying,
The Germans will not win the war, Italy will rise again,
but England will become one of the poorest nations in Europe.
Perhaps the day will come when we will see your father
as the president of the Italian Republic.
Twenty years later, Lew's prophecies came true.
Klein told me of another episode,
which happened at the time Nixon was first elected president.
Rudi told Lew he could see a ray of hope in Nixon's choice of advisors.
It is not sufficient that the advisors understand the economic problems. The head of the government must understand them himself, otherwise he won't be willing to die for his ideas. Nobody dies for the ideas of his advisors.
Nilo and Rudi Klein were the last friends to see us in 1973 when we were in St. Mattes,
the health resort above Lucerne. Twice they traveled 6 hours a day to be with us for only
a few hours. They were and still are very good friends.