Word: tycooning
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Calling the green Battle Ringers contemptuously Frösche ("frogs"),* Nazi brownshirts padlocked their headquarters, carried off "Frog" Herbert von Bismarck for a night of grilling questions. Ironically the presses of Frog Chief Dr. Alfred Hugenberg. the Fatherland's newspaper tycoon who made World news fortnight ago by demanding the return to Germany of her pre-War colonies by the London Conference (see p. 17). were obliged to print with an approving tone last week that "The Chancellor received Dr. Hugenberg tonight with no others present and explained to him the reasons for the Battle Ring's suppression...
Stuffy Dutch burghers, members of the Netherlands Society for Industry and Commerce, opened at their meeting in Rotterdam last week a letter as explosive as two sticks of dynamite. Signed by Holland's world potent petrol tycoon, Sir Henri Deterding, it urged the Netherlands to reduce the gold content of the gulden, "in order to help trade...
...London's richest guilds off sumptuous gold plates. Nearly half the Delegates invited threw away their Fishmongers' invitations, unaware that the banquet was being given by special request of His Majesty's Government. The Press also twitted two breezy Southern Delegates, Texas ice & utilities Tycoon Ralph W. Morrison and Tennessee's Samuel D. McReynolds for ''hardly opening their mouths." The Delegates wisely reported that they were playing a "waiting game...
...Hugenberg, No. 1 German cinema & press tycoon, said: "We Germans are the poor devils and have nothing more to lose. From the German viewpoint wise and peaceful co-operation between debtor and creditor countries might include two large-minded measures whereby Germany's capacity to make international payments might be increased. One of these steps would be to give Germany again colonial domain in Africa, which might be used by her as a basis for . . . great works and construction...
Thus the final dissolution of Cyrus Eaton's empire seemed inevitable. Yet like many another onetime tycoon Cyrus Eaton lives on in a manner which wholly belies his business disasters. He has abandoned his palatial Euclid Avenue house (along with other Clevelanders who shared his faith ) but at his country home in nearby Northfield a butler still answers the door, stable boys mind the horses and a half-dozen gardeners putter around the 200-acre estate, and he is still Master of Hounds at the Summit Hunt Club. He has a small office in vastly-deflated Otis...