The Comeback Kid

Sometimes the job of founding a company and building it into an industry giant is the easy part. The real challenge is letting go. Returning CBS Chairman William S. Paley, who turns 85 this month, has long been revered as the nation's most influential broadcast pioneer. But last week's events marked yet another odd, and somehow poignant, twist in the saga of Paley's long, long goodbye.

The story is hardly unique in American industry. Either through a surplus of energy or ego -- and very possibly both -- founding entrepreneurs frequently find it hard to turn over the reins of "their" company to a successor. Armand Hammer, chairman and chief executive officer of Occidental Petroleum, still jets around the world at 88, and has outlasted several presumed heirs. After 41 years at the helm of W.R. Grace, the multibillion- dollar chemical producer, J. Peter Grace, 73, has been overseeing a major restructuring of the company and shows no signs of stepping down. Robert W. Woodruff, longtime chairman of Coca-Cola, "retired" in 1955 but remained in control of the company for an additional 25 years, well into his 90s.

The son of a well-to-do Philadelphia cigarmaker, William Paley bought a chain of 16 struggling radio stations in 1928 and nurtured his enterprise into a communications colossus. By the mid-1960s, when he reached retirement age, Paley had earned the right to rest on his legend. Yet he decided to remain as chairman and chief executive, leading to the departure of the man who had long yearned for the job, CBS President Frank Stanton. In the years that followed, Paley put a succession of heirs apparent into the president's slot and, in a pattern that became painfully familiar, fired them a few years later: Arthur Taylor (1972-76), John Backe (1976-80) and now Thomas Wyman.

Paley's disenchantment with his most recent choice, according to insiders, began in 1983, when Wyman replaced Paley as chairman. Though Paley publicly treated the transition as a natural passing of the baton, in private he resented the move. The CBS founder had always taken an active role in network programming -- hiring away top NBC stars like Jack Benny and Edgar Bergen in the 1940s, advocating such high-quality shows as All in the Family and M*A*S*H in the 1970s. Now he was being forced to the sidelines.

Despite his retirement, Paley continued to visit his office at Black Rock daily and still got regular briefings on CBS's programming plans. Only last month he invited CBS Entertainment President B. Donald ("Bud") Grant to his Southampton summer home on Long Island to discuss the fall schedule. But Paley's dissatisfaction grew as he watched the network's fortunes decline. In a recent interview, he voiced disappointment that rival ABC had succeeded in wooing Lucille Ball, one of CBS's first TV stars, back in a sitcom this fall. "I think our people were stupid not to think of it first," he said. Age has begun to take its toll. Though in apparent good health, Paley has slowed down considerably and suffers from memory lapses. Yet friends describe him as still capable of wielding influence. "He is the most competitive person I've ever met," says Financier Felix Rohatyn. "It was obvious that Bill was watching with a great deal of sorrow and frustration as this great enterprise that he built began to fray at the edges."

Other observers suggest Paley may not be all that disappointed. CBS's current troubles, after all, have given him an opportunity to ride to the rescue once more and prove himself the indispensable man. The recent events, according to some, have invigorated him. "He didn't like the way he was pushed aside," says an intimate. "It took him forever to get rid of Wyman, and now he's enjoying it." For an aging broadcast legend, it is a sweet last hurrah.