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Homage from Five Flies. Reed has a short memory for distracting detail—he even forgets which year he became president of American Express—but he has a phenomenal capacity for cramming facts and figures into his head on any problem he is studying. Last June, on an exploratory trip to Hawaii, he gathered enough information in three days to decide to open a Waikiki office. "In those three days," recalls a Honolulu businessman, "Reed knew more about Hawaii than 90% of the people who live here."
When Greece's King Paul summoned the American Express chief to Tatio to make him a Knight of the Order of St. George in 1953, Reed for once overstayed a 15-minute appointment, spent an hour talking travel with the King. Reed was so proud of the decoration that for days afterward, whenever he spotted an acquaintance, he would insist on showing off his medal, exclaiming delightedly: "Look what I've got!" In addition to decorations from France, Norway, The Netherlands and Belgium, Reed was honored recently by the Five Flies, an Amsterdam restaurant, which installed a copper plaque in one of its chairs boasting that Ralph Reed once sat there.
One-Man Gang. There are few U.S. companies of comparable size and complexity that are still run by one man, as Reed runs American Express. From the company's managers all over the world, cables and detailed monthly reports all flow directly to Reed in New York. He is constantly mulling ways to expand and improve the company's business. He seldom goes to bed before 2 a.m., frequently wakes up in the night to scrawl notes on the pad beside his bed.
At 8 a.m., when Reed arrives in his grey-carpeted office on the twelfth floor of the marble-pillared American Express Building at 65 Broadway, he plunges straight into dictation. By the time the vice presidents arrive—no later than 9 a.m. if they want to avoid Reed's wrath —a drift of yellow memos has usually settled over their desks. Even on trips by car or train, Reed pores through his briefcase, dictating to a secretary.
Reed's bounce is built in. The second son of a Welsh-born lumber company accountant in Philadelphia, he was a hard-plugging student and star footballer in high school. He won a scholarship to Princeton, but had to drop out when his father lost his job. He got an accounting job by day, went to Philadelphia's Wharton School at night. At 29, he went to American Express as assistant to the comptroller, rose through the ranks, until in 1944 he became president.