TWO OF my “three-phase life” was about to begin, and it would go on for more than twenty years. But, I want to say one final word about my days at Taft Stettinius & Hollister. In virtually every way, it formed the foundation for the rest of my life. I was associated with first-class people, and the friendships I made remain among the strongest in my life. Beyond that, my mind was constantly challenged by intelligent people and complex issues. Although the rest of my career was more visible and in some ways more “exciting,” I wouldn’t trade those nine years at Taft Stettinius & Hollister for anything! Happily, my Taft Stettinius & Hollister connection continues in a way. When I retired as board chairman of Convergys Corporation and was preparing to move out of my office there, the then managing partner of Taft Stettinius & Hollister, Tom Heekin, called and invited me to take an office at TS&H. I was delighted and use the office whenever I go back to Cincinnati. Not only is it a very comfortable office, but it is next door to my old and dear friend Charlie Lindberg, whom I have known since we were at Yale Law School together.
CHAPTER XI
Taft Broadcasting Company
MY INVOLVEMENT WITH Taft Broadcasting Company could be a book in itself, lasting as it did for over twenty years. However, I’ll try simply to hit the high spots. Many of the “people stories” contained in this book would never have occurred had I not been involved with Taft.
My career with the company began in a strange and tragic way. I had been legal counsel to the company for several years and became secretary and a member of the board of directors. All of these came as a result of my friendship with Hulbert Taft, Jr., the founder of the company. Hub, as he was known, started the company in 1939 with the acquisition of WKRC radio in Cincinnati. He did this over the objection and advice of his father, who was the owner and publisher of the Cincinnati Times-Star newspaper. Hulbert Sr. like many newspaper barons of that day, was convinced that radio was a passing fad, and Hub Jr. would never see it prosper. He could hardly have been more wrong. The company grew rapidly in AM and FM radio, and over the years added television stations.
All of this changed tragically in November of 1967, when Hub was killed in the most bizarre accident I think I have ever known. He had built a bomb shelter on his estate in Indian Hill, a suburb of Cincinnati. A number of wealthy people living in the eastern United States did something similar in those days because they were greatly concerned that the Russians would fire missiles directed to the eastern part of the country from their bases in Cuba. This seems almost fantasy-like today but it was very real then. On a cold, rainy afternoon—November 10, 1967—Hub went into the bomb shelter and something (maybe a cigarette, maybe an electrical malfunction) caused a terrible explosion, most likely because there had been a propane gas leak. In any case, he was killed instantly at age fifty-nine. All of us who knew him were devastated. I felt the loss keenly because he had been so good to me and given me so many opportunities to learn and grow.
Hub’s death, of course, was something that none of the shareholders (predominantly made up of members of the Taft and Ingalls families) had expected, and they had to reach a decision on his successor very quickly. I was totally surprised and not a little scared when I was asked to come into the company as chief executive officer. I had to make up my mind literally overnight. I decided to make the move after counseling with my wife, my father, and one of my law partners. Dad was mildly irritated that I even had to ask him what I should do. His answer was, “Of course you should do it. No one ever got anywhere by turning down a challenge.” But it was not an easy decision because I was enjoying my law practice and thought the future was bright. However, I felt I might never have another chance like this and, therefore, moved forward with great excitement. My law firm was very supportive, so the transition was an easy one in that respect. However, I was overwhelmed with what I did not know about management and was determined to move slowly and with sensitivity until I gained the respect and support of the people in the company. The biggest problem I faced was that, since I was the company’s lawyer, most of the senior executives concluded that I was put into the job to preside over and implement the sale of the company. Although I repeatedly told them that was not my mandate nor intention, I think it was at least a year before people were comfortable that I was there to grow and build the company.
By the way, one of my most amusing memories of my being named Chairman of Taft Broadcasting Company came to me from a good friend who called to congratulate me. He said, “Charlie, I think it’s terrific, but have you considered the fact that the next move is out!”
The Growth and Development of the Company
LET ME TRY to give a brief overview of what happened over the next twenty-five years. When I joined Taft Broadcasting, we owned seven television stations, seven AM radio stations, and seven FM stations. We needed to expand outside of broadcasting because, in those days, the Federal Communications Commission limited the number of stations that one company could own. So, when you reached the legal limit you could not acquire any additional stations—even though the stations that you owned were generating a substantial amount of cash. Shortly before Hub died, we had made our first move outside of broadcasting with the acquisition of Hanna-Barbera Productions, the famous animation studio. In subsequent years, we bought another animation company (Ruby-Spears Productions) and built five major themed amusement parks utilizing Hanna-Barbera characters. All of the parks have been a great success except for the Australian park, which never really seemed to match the recreation needs and tastes of the Australian people. The other four parks, Kings Island, Kings Dominion, Carowinds, and Canada’s Wonderland continue strong and successful to this day.
We also acquired Worldvision Enterprises, one of the largest distributors of television and film product in the world. We acquired other Hollywood production companies (such as the famous Quinn Martin Productions, creators of The Fugitive, Barnaby Jones, and many other great shows) not only for their own value but to add their product to the Worldvision distribution system. At the same time, we bought television and radio properties whenever the rules of the FCC allowed.
Interestingly, our broadcasting operations took us into still other nonbroadcasting directions, such as owning the controlling interest in the Philadelphia Phillies and having a small interest in the Cincinnati Reds. Amazingly the Phillies won the National League pennant in our first year of ownership. A funny thing happened in the World Series. The Phillies had acquired three of the great players from the Cincinnati Big Red Machine—Pete Rose, Joe Morgan, and Tony Perez. We had watched them play hundreds of times during the years we lived in Cincinnati. In the first game of the World Series, as I saw Tony on first base, Joe on second, and Pete in right field, I turned to Marilyn and said, “I think we’ve already been to this ball game!”
Winning baseball’s National League Championship is not only a momentous occasion in itself, but a beautiful and very impressive ring is given to the players on a team that wins either the National League Championship or the American League Championship. What is less well known is that the owners and other officials of the teams usually receive such a ring as well. When the Phillies won in 1983, each of the owners (and, indeed, their spouses) received a magnificent ruby and diamond ring with all the appropriate inscriptions. It is a large ring, but it is very beautifully crafted. Over the years I have not worn the ring a great deal, partly because it is so large but more importantly because I didn’t want to risk losing or damaging it. However, on a few occasions, for no particular reason, I have worn the ring for brief periods of time. Inevitably, when I have worn it, someone will spot it and ask me about it. As recently as March of this year, a flight attendant on a flight to Cincinnati spotted it and said, “Isn’t that a baseball championship ring?” But, the funniest incident occurred when I was taking some of the family to Disney World and extended my right hand with money into the cashier’s window. The young girl behind the counter said, “Oh my goodness, sir, that’s a beautiful ring. What is it?” I explained that it was a National League Championship ring. She responded, “That is so impressive—what position did you play?” I couldn’t resist, so I said something to this effect: “I was a short stop. I was not very well
