The Colonel & His Friends

Into the Drake's pink Walton Room trooped 90 glowing Chicago Tribune men and their ladies. At an estimated $50 a head--for food, drink and a $3,200 silver service--they came to honor the boss, Publisher Robert Rutherford McCormick. Two days later at the Palmer House, some 1,500 carefully selected citizens (including ten Negroes) gathered for speeches praising McCormick, a speech by McCormick and a free meal.

One citizen carefully not selected was Marshall Field, whose Chicago Sun fights the Tribune on everything. Growled crusty Lawyer Silas H. Strawn, who headed a committee, composed mostly of rock-ribbed reactionaries, that arranged the affair: "This isn't a Marshall Field dinner--we are not peddling tickets all around town. This party is being paid for by some of us fools who are friends of the Colonel, and it isn't hard to see he has a lot of them."

The reason for both parties was Colonel McCormick's 65th birthday. He reached the milestone looking like a man who could continue to steer the vast and noisy Tribune on its huff-puffing course for years to come.

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