Osborn Elliott: Remembering a Giant of Journalism
By Michael Elliott
Osborn Elliott, who died on Sept. 28, was one of the great figures of American journalism, a crusading campaigner for American cities, a visionary leader of the movement for voluntary service, and perhaps above all, one of those rare characters whose very presence lifted the spirits of those around him, convincing them that life could be meaningful, significant, and at the same time -- and this was a key part of his appeal -- terrific fun. His passing leaves his country and the world a little less bright.
Elliott -- "Oz," as all knew him -- was born in 1924 in New York City and served in the U.S. Navy in the Pacific. He was not the least of that remarkable generation of Americans who, pitched into uniform as young men, returned home to build a society that for 30 years epitomized vigor and modernity. With a degree from Harvard, Oz went into journalism, first with the Journal of Commerce and then with TIME. In 1955 he was hired by Newsweek, then TIME's distant competitor, and rose rapidly up the editing ranks. In 1960 he worked with his friend Ben Bradlee -- then Newsweek's Washington bureau chief, later the editor of the Washington Post -- to persuade the Graham family, which owned the Post, to buy the newsmagazine. Oz became Newsweek's editor; he was 36.
At Newsweek, Oz did more than breathe life into a publication that lived in TIME's shadow. He revolutionized American -- in fact, global -- journalism. If Britton Hadden and Henry Luce, who founded TIME, were the fathers of the newsmagazine, Oz was the person who showed that the format could be a place for great, campaigning journalism, giving it a new relevance as America's post-1945 golden age gave way to the social and political tumult of the 1960s. In 1963, with a special issue titled "The Negro in America" -- one of the handful of truly revolutionary pieces of American journalism -- Oz made Newsweek a force to be reckoned with and demonstrated that great journalism could help shape a national agenda. But he wasn't all high seriousness; if you spoke to those who worked with Oz during his time at Newsweek in the 1960s and 1970s, what came across above all was his sheer sense of the fun of it all, epitomized by an intolerance for cant and MEGO ("my eyes glaze over") prose. He constantly searched for great writing and great writers and displayed a puckish irreverence that recognized that readers needed to be entertained as well as informed.
He was, of course, lucky in his owners. The Graham family, led after the death of her husband Philip in 1963 by Katharine Graham, were the best possible stewards of great journalism, and Kay and Oz took around the world the message that terrific reporting and writing mattered. (Any who heard it can recite by heart the story of the two of them meeting Emperor Hirohito of Japan.) But there was more to Oz than the inky-fingered trade. In 1976, after holding a variety of titles at the top of the masthead, he left journalism, becoming the founding chairman of the Citizens Committee for New York City, a pioneering nonprofit that encouraged voluntary efforts, and then became the city's first deputy mayor for economic development. He later served as dean of Columbia University's graduate school of journalism.
I once heard one of Oz's friends say, with a touch of wistful regret, that he had never really held a job worthy of his talents after he was 50. But that ignores the thousands of lives he made better in small ways and large through his campaigning for urban renewal and his support of grass-roots community initiatives. And it misses the vital essence of the man -- an ability to combine a keen eye and sharp instinct for the big issues of our time with an eye-twinkling liveliness that made him a tremendous joy to be around. I remember a day a few years ago at his home in Stonington, Conn., when, racing his Boston Whaler to a distant beach at a terrifying clip, he had my young daughters shrieking with excitement while simultaneously quizzing me on the possible business models for journalism online. He was a multitasker before the word (which he surely would have hated) was invented.
Oz will be mourned by a remarkable, loving family, and by numberless friends around the world. But his memory deserves to be honored by those who never met him. There were those who won more glittering prizes, as these things are conventionally measured; there are few who did more to combine gaiety and high seriousness, fun and sharp analysis, in a way that made his times better than they would have been without him.
Michael Elliott, the editor of TIME International, is not related to Osborn Elliott.