Harold Ross once defiantly accepted the description of his New Yorker magazine as an "adult comic book." This was a less-than-just verdict on the magazine that caused or charted wide changes in American humor, fiction and reporting, but it was quite in keeping with the arrogant character of Editor Ross to accept it.
In 26 years he made The New Yorker a synonym for urbanity, but he himself remained a bawling, rough-cut outlander from Aspen, Colo. A catty old friend, Alexander Woollcott, once described him as looking like "a dishonest Abe Lincoln." Rumpled, wild-haired...
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