Despite the impression these letters may have given, all is far from serene here at TIME when a major story is being put together. Anybody who tries to get behind the news anticipates trouble, of course, but not anything like the trouble we ran into last week on the Luckman-Lever Bros, story. At a time when we should have had the story well under control 1) the writer assigned to it was down with ptomaine poisoning; 2) a major portion of the research was missing; 3) we weren't even sure of the release date.

TIME'S editors decided to do the Lever Bros. story three weeks ago, scheduling it for the first week in June when Charles Luckman's ascendancy to the $300,000-a-year presidency of the big soap firm's U.S. subsidiary was to be announced. That left a minimum of time for examining the massive Lever operation. Fortunately, Artzybasheff was available to draw the cover, which had to be done in a hurry.

Some Lever Bros. products were needed for background "scrap." We sent a researcher out to buy some. After visiting 16 stores she came steaming back to announce that only a few of the soap, oil, fat, etc. products we wanted were available, and didn't we know there was a shortage on. Luckman saved the day by sending us a boxful of the hard-to-get items. They're all gone now. After Artzybasheff had his pick, staff members hijacked what was left.

Meanwhile, our London bureau had gone to work on its end of the story at Lever Bros. world headquarters there; our correspondent in South Africa was investigating the firm's activities there; and Chicago was checking details of Luckman's former activities there. At that point we were dismayed to learn that the deadline for announcing Luckman's new job had been advanced a week. That would make us late with the news. We sat tight while Luckman chased Geoffrey Heyworth, Lever Bros. board chairman, around England by transatlantic telephone, relaxed when it was decided--a day or so later--to keep the June 3 release date.

Our relaxation was brief. Robert Hagy, one of our Business writers, and Researcher Shirley Weadock had gone to Cambridge, Mass. to interview Luckman and investigate the U.S. phase of Lever Bros.' activities. The night they finished their work Luckman asked them to dinner at his home. His wife cooked the dinner because, Luckman explained, "you just can't keep a maid these days with three small boys in the house." On his way home next day by train, Hagy got hungry, bought an indigent hamburger, went to bed with food poisoning.

Now it looked as if we would have to put a new writer, unfamiliar with the complicated material, on the story. Furthermore, we couldn't find hide or hair of an excellent 50-page piece of research (the basis for a story FORTUNE had done on Lever Bros. in 1940) which London swore was in TIME'S morgue. More transatlantic telephoning ensued, and we finally got London's copy of the research.

By that time Hagy had recovered sufficiently to read all of the material which had been assembled, and to start writing his story. Despite the annoyance, frustration and confusion of the previous two weeks, it came out clear and complete. Late Monday night, just before closing time, Managing Editor T. S. Matthews dropped by to tell Hagy he thought the story had turned out fine. "Oh," said Hagy, "it was nothing," and went out to sit in a poker game.

Cordially,

P.S. His luck held good. He won $55.

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