Arrival & Departure

Few men had more friends than big Max Gardner. Ever since he moved from North Carolina to Washington in 1933, the capital's society matrons had welcomed him as a raconteur who added zest. to any party. He was widely admired--first as a roadbuilding, budget-balancing governor of North Carolina, most recently as an Under Secretary of the Treasury in whom businessmen had full confidence. Almost everybody could find something to like about this hearty "liberal conservative" with the homespun manner and the gilt-edged bank account. And almost everybody wanted to give him a farewell party before he left for London and his new job as Ambassador to the Court of St. James's.

For 64-year-old Max Gardner, it was a strenuous time. During the day he was hard at work, conferring at the State Department, boning up on his new job. And night after night he was up late at parties in his honor. He got little rest.

Last week he left Washington with his wife and son Ralph, who were going to London with him. Arriving in New York, they checked in at the swank St. Regis Hotel, where they had reserved a suite on the eighth floor. Next day, he went to a luncheon given for him by his old friend Eric Johnston at the Waldorf-Astoria.

That evening he and his family dined quietly in his suite with his old law partner Fred Morrison and wife. He was in high spirits and talked enthusiastically of his new post. But he admitted that he was looking forward to a good rest once he got aboard the S.S. America the following afternoon.

The Morrisons left early, realizing that the Gardners had a tiring day ahead. Max Gardner was in bed by 10 o'clock. Five hours later, he awoke with a sharp pain in his chest. The hotel's doctor was summoned. At 5 a.m. a heart specialist was called. Examination showed that a blood clot was blocking off the blood from Max Gardner's heart. At 8:25 a.m. the starved heart stopped. Oliver Max Gardner was dead. It would be hard to find as good a man to fill his place.

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