home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
TIME: Almanac 1990s
/
Time_Almanac_1990s_SoftKey_1994.iso
/
time
/
042991
/
0429470.000
< prev
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1994-03-25
|
4KB
|
92 lines
<text id=91TT0917>
<title>
Apr. 29, 1991: Sins Of The Fathers
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1991
Apr. 29, 1991 Nuclear Power
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
BOOKS, Page 74
Sins of the Fathers
</hdr><body>
<p>William A. Henry III
</p>
<qt>
<l>THE PATRIARCH: THE RISE AND FALL OF THE BINGHAM DYNASTY</l>
<l>By Susan E. Tifft and Alex S. Jones</l>
<l>Summit; 574 pages; $24.95</l>
</qt>
<p> They hobnobbed with Roosevelts and Kennedys, counseled
Adlai Stevenson and Lyndon Johnson, entertained the Duke and
Duchess of Windsor. At their hereditary mansion they favored
English butlers and European decor; even the family charades
grew so elaborate that they were pictured in LIFE magazine. But
for all this golden splendor, the Binghams of Louisville were
not precisely household names, unless your household was in
Kentucky, where they owned the dominant newspapers, the
Louisville Courier-Journal and Times. The papers built, then
eroded, a name for excellence; they promoted liberal orthodoxy
and civic virtue, but had scant national profile. Thus it is a
touch baffling that the past four years have yielded four books
linked to the family feud that led to the sale of the dailies
and reduced to mere wealth the clan's erstwhile power.
</p>
<p> The last and best--certainly by far the most inclusive--comes, fittingly, from Alex Jones, whose reporting about the
Binghams in the New York Times won a 1987 Pulitzer Prize and
alerted publishers to the saga's dramatic potential. He and his
co-author and wife, Susan Tifft, a TIME associate editor, have
induced virtually all the members of this tortured family to
expose seemingly every intimate detail, as if in some ritual of
confession and humiliation to make up for all the years of
privilege. The reader is exposed to reckless drug use and
irredeemable boozing, to a daughter's experiments in group sex
and a now dead son's alleged attempt at an incestuous rape--even to summaries of children's grade school report cards and
prep school fraternizing. No fact, it appears, is too intrusive
or too repetitive for Tifft and Jones; the point that these
communications moguls were personally inept at communicating is
made over and over, as is the matching irony that a pair of
chilly, detached parents felt lifelong sexual heat for each
other. Amid all this, however, is a thoughtful group portrait
wrapped into a cautionary tale about wealth: half the family
were crushed by the burden of duty, the other half laid waste
by wantonness.
</p>
<p> Tifft and Jones root the Binghams in Southern traditions,
from the mythmaking of genteel poverty to the brute force of
the Klan, and sidle up to intriguing questions about the
morality of inheriting vast fortunes and the special duties of
media owners. But the core story is the mid-1980s sale of all
Bingham companies for $448 million by Barry Bingham Sr., then
79. His son and namesake unsurprisingly felt that an adult
lifetime of corporate devotion entitled him to the lion's share
of control. Two wayward sisters, whom Barry Jr. had
disenfranchised, equally unsurprisingly felt entitled to more
than a dividend of one-half of 1% a year on the value of their
holdings. The tragedy was that both sides rejected rational
compromise because their concern was being judged right--with
their father as arbiter, a role he characteristically ducked by
selling.
</p>
<p> While confirming many rumors, Tifft and Jones debunk the
darkest: that Judge Robert Worth Bingham murdered the new wife
whose bequest enabled him to buy the papers in 1918. They
suggest that she died of alcoholism or tertiary syphilis
contracted from a prior spouse. Promised revelations about what
finally led Barry Sr. to sell prove anticlimactic: senior aides
were ready to move on, making continued family operation
unmanageable. What really deserted the Binghams was the faith
that a family-owned newspaper is more than a mere capital asset.
The book never proves that Bingham ownership was all that good
for the employees, or even necessarily for Louisville. But no
one can miss the wreckage that ensued when the family ceased to
believe that its ownership was, at the very least, good for the
Binghams.
</p>
</body></article>
</text>