KATHARINE GRAHAM 1917 - 2001

[L]C

The Kay W
Written eulogy
(edited from spoken eulogy)

Katharine Graham left behind a remarkably diverse network of colleagues and friends around the world. They include historians and heads of state, diplomats and dress designers, a powerful software magnate and an old-school book editor—and many, many fellow journalists, both rivals and comrades in arms. They have in common only their admiration for her. Here's how some of them are saying goodbye.

HENRY A. KISSINGER
FORMER SECRETARY OF STATE

'A symbol of
the permanent
Washington'

THE FRIENDSHIP
Nancy and I shared
with Kay Graham is
one of the legacies of
my government service that we
cherish most. Unlike so many
Washington relationships that
end with the exercise of power,
it grew in intensity in the
decades after I left office. Yet
The Washington Post had been
a relentless critic of many as-
pects of the administrations in
which I served. Nor were we on
the same side of several issues
afterward.

This seeming paradox dis-
solved in the face of the admir-
ation and affection I came to feel
for Kay as a person. Strong and,
at the same time, somewhat shy,
appreciative of humor, unobtru-
sively purposeful, never bitter

and always brave, matter-of-
factly loyal to her friends and
deeply devoted to her family,
Kay ennobled all her human re-
lationships. Who can forget the
somewhat mischievous way she
and Meg Greenfield would com-
ment on the foibles of Washing-
ton, or, even more so, the exquis-
ite tenderness with which Kay
looked after Meg in the difficult
last years of Meg's life.

After a great personal tragedy,
Kay took over The Washington
Post with no previous experi-
ence and not a little diffidence
and built it into one of the
world's most respected newspa-
pers. She fiercely defended its
freedom of expression and was a
seminal figure in the battle to
submit even the highest officials
to ethical and judicial norms.

Kay was also a symbol of the
permanent Washington that
transmutes the partisanship of
the moment into national pur-
pose and lasting values. In that
role, she tended to look with a
certain wonder at the promi-
nence fate had brought her and

to treat it so much as
to build the healing. The
nent estab-
sight of the
thrive no
their fact
mate rec-

Kay an

home of Joe Alsop, another
member of Washington's per-
manent establishment. Techni-
cally a Washington Post colum-
nist, Joe saw his calling in
protecting the nation from the
depredations of the ignorant.
Though his views rarely inter-
sected those of his publisher,
Kay treated Joe with affection
and respect, occasionally tinged
with exasperation. For his 70th
birthday, Kay gave him a big
party to celebrate his contribu-
tions to our nation, however at
odds they were with the Post's
editorial policy. A few weeks af-
ter I arrived in Washington, Joe
invited me to meet Kay at his
house for dinner for the three of
us "because you cannot be in
Washington, dear boy, without
knowing Kay Graham."

Unfortunately, the evening
did not turn out as Joe had
planned. The president had
called me into his office just as
I was preparing to leave, and I
had instructed my secretary to
call Joe periodically to explain
the delay. Joe considered a tele-
phone call from a secretary a
social offense, a subject on
which he held forth at great
length and with considerable
passion when I arrived an hour
late. So it happened that Kay
was obliged to spend much of
the evening calming the irate
Joe. This she achieved with
customary grace and some
humor, gradually reducing
Joe's successive eruptions to

CECIL BEATON, COURTESY OF SOUTHERN LONDON, © VOUUE, CONDE NAST PUBLICATIONS, INC.

manageable proportions.

As the months went by, Kay
remedied the initial lack of dia-
logue between us. She would
invite me to small dinners
with one or two people—Bob
McNamara, Nelson Rockefeller
and Meg Greenfield come to
mind—to evoke, with persist-
ent questioning, a discussion
about the nation's future be-
yond the issues of the day.

In the midst of a divisive
Vietnam debate in which The
Washington Post had been
quite unsympathetic to the ad-
ministration in which I served,
Kay telephoned and said: "You
need some rest. Let's go to the
movies." Ever thorough, she

NEWSWEEK JULY 30, 2001

KATHARINE GRAHAM 1917 - 2001

The Kay W.

‘A symbol of the permanent Washington’

THE FRIENDSHIP Nancy and I shared with Kay Graham is one of the legacies of my government service that we cherish most. Unlike so many Washington relationships that end with the exercise of power, it grew in intensity in the decades after I left office. Yet The Washington Post had been a relentless critic of many aspects of the administrations in which I served. Nor were we on the same side of several issues afterward.

This seeming paradox dissolved in the face of the admiration and affection I came to feel for Kay as a person. Strong and, at the same time, somewhat shy, appreciative of humor, unobtrusively purposeful, never bitter

and always brave, matter-of-factly loyal to her friends and deeply devoted to her family, Kay ennobled all her human relationships. Who can forget the somewhat mischievous way she and Meg Greenfield would comment on the foibles of Washington, or, even more so, the exquisite tenderness with which Kay looked after Meg in the difficult last years of Meg's life.

After a great personal tragedy, Kay took over The Washington Post with no previous experience and not a little diffidence and built it into one of the world's most respected newspapers. She fiercely defended its freedom of expression and was a seminal figure in the battle to submit even the highest officials to ethical and judicial norms.

Kay was also a symbol of the permanent Washington that transmutes the partisanship of the moment into national purpose and lasting values. In that role, she tended to look with a certain wonder at the promi-nence fate had brought her and

to treat it so much as to build healing, nient est sight of thrive n their fac- mate re

Kay a

home of Joe Alsop, another member of Washington's permanent establishment. Technically a Washington Post columnist, Joe saw his calling in protecting the nation from the depredations of the ignorant. Though his views rarely intersected those of his publisher, Kay treated Joe with affection and respect, occasionally tinged with exasperation. For his 70th birthday, Kay gave him a big party to celebrate his contributions to our nation, however at odds they were with the Post's editorial policy. A few weeks after I arrived in Washington, Joe invited me to meet Kay at his house for dinner for the three of us "because you cannot be in Washington, dear boy, without knowing Kay Graham."

Unfortunately, the evening did not turn out as Joe had planned. The president had called me into his office just as I was preparing to leave, and I had instructed my secretary to call Joe periodically to explain the delay. Joe considered a telephone call from a secretary a social offense, a subject on which he held forth at great length and with considerable passion when I arrived an hour late. So it happened that Kay was obliged to spend much of the evening calming the irate Joe. This she achieved with customary grace and some humor, gradually reducing Joe's successive eruptions to

manageable proportions.

As the months went by, Kay remedied the initial lack of dialogue between us. She would invite me to small dinners with one or two people—Bob McNamara, Nelson Rockefeller and Meg Greenfield come to mind—to evoke, with persistent questioning, a discussion about the nation's future beyond the issues of the day.

In the midst of a divisive Vietnam debate in which The Washington Post had been quite unsympathetic to the administration in which I served, Kay telephoned and said: “You need some rest. Let's go to the movies.” Ever thorough, she

CECIL BRATON, COURTESY OF SOUTHERN'S LONDON, © VOGUE, CONDE NAST PUBLICATIONS, INC.

[LC]

54 NEWSWEEK JULY 30, 2001