Word: otto
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...saddened to read of the pass- ing of one of the world's premier magazine journalists, Otto Friedrich [TO OUR READERS, May 8]. As a historical writer, I was enormously impressed by his highly readable and brilliantly analytical articles on the outbreak and consequences of World War II. I recommend that all thoughtful citizens read his insightful contribution to Time's 50th-anniversary issue on World War II [Aug. 28, 1989] at least twice...
...tall, self-effacing man with a boyish grin, Otto arrived at the office each day carrying his lunch in a brown paper bag. He left at precisely 6 p.m. to catch the train to his home on New York's Long Island, where he worked mornings and weekends at his 27-year-old Royal 440 manual typewriter, turning out books at the rate of two pages a day. (He once broke off in mid-sentence after reaching that quota.) Otto's contributions to Time went beyond his muscular prose. A patient, sometimes acerbic and always inspiring mentor, Otto set standards...
Always a lightning-fast study, Otto graduated from Harvard at 19. He was managing editor of the Saturday Evening Post when that weekly folded in 1969, and chronicled its death throes in an acclaimed book called Decline and Fall. He joined Time in 1971, where he supervised historical projects like our 1976 Bicentennial issue and wrote 40 cover stories, including one that named the personal computer as Man of the Year, before retiring...
...Otto found writing ideas everywhere. His fondness for roses blossomed into a book about the joys of that flower. His love for the piano led to a biography of pianist Glenn Gould. For years, Otto and former senior editor Ruth Brine, a skilled violinist, met regularly during the lunch hour to play duets. "We had three-sonata lunches," Brine recalls. She once dreamed that the sessions had exhausted all the music in the world, but Otto reassured her that that could never be the case. For Otto Alva Friedrich, there was always another sonata to play, another rose to cultivate...
...DIED. OTTO FRIEDRICH, 66, writer; of lung cancer; in Manhasset, New York. Boston-born Friedrich first hit his stride during his 1960s tenure at the Saturday Evening Post. During his subsequent years in the pages of Time and in his own nimbly crafted nonfiction, Friedrich emerged as an elegant explicator of just about everything: Superman, insanity, the pop art of Hollywood, the high art of pianist Glenn Gould, the collapse of German democracy, the demise of a rose garden...