© 2013 The Texas Lawbook.
By Patricia Baldwin
Lifestyle Writer for The Texas Lawbook
“This interview will be 20 minutes,” Mike Levy says in welcome. “I’ve never sat still for longer than that.” Good thing, too, because, without his legendary energy and his occasional brashness, the founder of Texas Monthly might not have persevered in creating what has become an icon of journalism. As the February issue celebrates the magazine’s 40th anniversary, its first publisher marks nearly four-and-a-half years since he “re-potted” himself – “retirement” is not in Levy’s vocabulary or part of his daily activities.
Besides, “20 minutes is all you need,” Levy, a graduate of The University of Texas School of Law, insists self-deprecatingly. And then he hands this writer a three-page, single-spaced autobiographical sketch printed on the ubiquitous yellow copy paper that clutters his desk. The mostly factual personal history is sprinkled with enough fiction to prove Levy retains his trademark, sometimes zany, wit. Among his prose: “In an attempt to bring balance to his fascination with trains and planes, Levy spends many of his Saturday nights at the Greyhound station at IH-35 and Koenig Lane in Austin, ‘watching the big silver buses roll in, and then back out again, taking their passengers to exotic places one can only imagine.’”
“We compete for people’s reading time with great journalism. That’s what made us successful starting in ’73, and it’s what has kept the magazine successful,” Levy says, admitting that he’s had a “hard time” since his retirement eliminating the words “we” and “us” when talking about the magazine.
As for his own business success, Levy credits law school, good fortune (to have had “a good idea at the right time”) and good sense (“I surrounded myself with people who were smarter than me”). And, of course, there was the three-piece suit he wore in the early days to look older.
Evan Smith, editor-in-chief and CEO of The Texas Tribune, spent nearly 18 years at Texas Monthly, including eight years as editor and a year as president and editor-in-chief. He is more effusive than his former boss about Levy’s pursuit of his publishing dream.
“Mike Levy changed journalism in Texas forever,” Smith says. “Through his force of personality, his creativity and his entrepreneurial bent, he figured out how to pay for long-form journalism. He did what newspapers never could have done.”
Smith notes that Levy’s model spawned magazine “copycats” elsewhere in the country – and laid the foundation for their success.
“He also gave scores of people jobs – people who are doing important work now,” Smith adds. “Mike has ‘children’ all over journalism, and he is seeing them grow up.”
Self-Portrait: Michael R. Levy.
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Date and place of birth: May 17, 1946 in Dallas. Residence: Austin, Texas. Education: Class of 1968, the Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania. Class of 1972, University of Texas School of Law. Career: 1973, founded Texas Monthly magazine. Served as publisher until August 2008. Current occupation: “I’m a participant in life.” Affiliation highlights: Member of Temple Emanu-El in Dallas and Temple Beth Shalom in Austin. Life member of The University of Texas Ex-Students’ Association. Member, Texas Coalition for Excellence in Higher Education, the Leadership Circle of Communities in Schools/Central Texas and the Friends of the Texas State Cemetery. (“I eventually will be an eternal member of that most distinguished community and invite people to come dance on my grave.”) Family: Daughters Rachel Levy Goldberg, Tobin Janel Levy and Mara Elizabeth Levy. Two “drop-dead gorgeous” granddaughters, Sophia Madaline Goldberg and Lily Blue Goldberg, daughters of Rachel and Michael Goldberg. Background: Father, Harry A. Levy, an emigrant from Stavish, Poland, was a master plumber who maintained his license until his death in 2005 at age 93. Mother, Florence Friedman Levy, whose parents emigrated from Hungary, died in 2009 at age 95. My parents taught me: If you really want anything of significance in life, you must work very, very hard. I’m fascinated with: Trains and planes. [An HO model train operation traveled around his Texas Monthly office. And, among many flight adventures, the U.S. Navy’s Blue Angels once took him for a ride in an F-18 fighter jet.] I watch: jerryseinfeld.com. The “old” in my “new” office: An IBM Correcting Selectric III typewriter. “This is how we started the magazine. It’s easier to type envelopes.” I drive: A black 2007 Suburban. [The magazine once crowned the Chevrolet model “the national car of Texas.”] I’m proud of: “Having a good idea at the right time.” My favorite Texas barbecue joint: Louie Mueller’s in Taylor. People can’t believe: “I don’t carry a cell phone. It’s always in my truck.” I still want: “To find chocolate and coconut meringue pies as good as my mother made.” My epitaph: “Nobody ever died from using common sense.” |
Current Texas Monthly editor-in-chief, Jake Silverstein, recruited some of those “children” for contributions to the anniversary issue. He notes in his “Editor’s Letter” that the February magazine is the first since 1986 to feature an original work by well-known Texas writer Larry McMurtry. The 480th issue also includes pieces from the three former editors – Bill Broyles, Greg Curtis and Smith. Silverstein writes that, in following this threesome, he is the first editor born after the magazine’s launch.
Still, while acknowledging the legacy, Levy comments, “I’ve stayed away from the magazine. When I retired, they wanted me to have an office there. I said ‘no.’ They wanted me to consult. I said ‘no.’”
Is that thinking like a lawyer?
“There’s no such thing,” Levy contends, but acknowledges he went to law school (University of Texas, 1972) with the intent to start the magazine. He adds that law school teaches various “approaches to life and skill sets that you wouldn’t otherwise have. In terms of being successful, law school was really important to me.”
Levy continues, “I’m one of those guys who actually enjoyed law school immensely. It was a terrific experience. Law school is like a liberal arts course for the real world. I learned how to spot critical issues. I also learned that everything in life is a relationship that needs to be managed appropriately.”
The law also provided fodder for one of the earliest “break-out” stories that established Texas Monthly’s editorial identity. In November 1973, “Empires of Paper” took an in-depth look at Houston’s largest law firms, principally the “Big Three” of Baker & Botts (now Baker Botts), Fulbright, Crooker & Jaworski (now Fulbright & Jaworski, to become Norton Rose Fulbright on June 1) and Vinson, Elkins, Searls, Connally & Smith (now Vinson & Elkins).
The story’s subhead declared, “They have kept their awesome power, their pervasive influence, and their closed societies out of the public eye. Until now.”
Levy recalls, “That was exactly right. But the world does change. And so did those law firms. It used to be that you graduated from law school, and, after having worked on Law Review, you would go to work for one of those firms, and you would retire from one of those firms. It doesn’t work that way any more.”
However, when Levy encounters lawyers from that era, they still quote sentences from “Empires of Paper.”
The story was written by Griffin Smith Jr., who served as executive editor of the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette in Little Rock from July 1992 to April 2012. He told The Dallas Morning News in December 1992 that, at the time of his reporting, most people didn’t have a clear idea about Texas Monthly. Then he wrote about the increasing instances of alcoholism and divorce among the law firms’ partners, and he told of an interview that was cut short after a phone call from the managing partner.
The grapevine began to pass the word about Texas Monthly.
Smith’s article characterized Baker Botts, which had 160 lawyers in 1973, as “doing the deity’s work.” Smith wrote, “There is something remote…foreign…even Yankee…about Baker & Botts, despite its undeniable pedigree in the Houston establishment.”
Smith called Fulbright, which had 185 lawyers at the time, “less sophisticated, less affected, more friendly, open, and down-home.” Of V&E, which had 186 lawyers, Smith wrote that the law firm was the “closest thing Houston has to the legendary Washington superlawyers.”
Smith interviewed one unidentified lawyer who provided a concise description: “Baker Botts plays golf; Vinson Elkins plays tennis; Fulbright Crooker hunts.”
Levy notes that, while each firm had a different personality and a different structure, the story contended a commonality that stung: The partners made their money off the associates. It was basically buying wholesale and selling retail.
For Levy, “Empires of Paper” showed the magazine wasn’t scared to rock the establishment’s boat.
“It was a very important story for us,” he remembers. “A lot of stories we did, that nobody else even thought about doing, put us on the map and kept us on the map.”
There were – and are – longtime features that continue to draw attention to Texas Monthly. Levy itemizes the original lists: “Ten Best & Ten Worst” legislators, the 100 richest Texans and the “Bum Steer Awards” that annually skewer well-known personalities and institutions.
Such stories helped the magazine’s circulation to grow from 30,000 in 1973 to more than 200,000 by mid-1977.
Levy says that he and founding editor Broyles did the “dog-and-pony” circuit of television talk shows as they were starting the magazine. “We were always asked what kind of circulation we hoped to get,” Levy recalls. “I would always say 100,000, and Bill would grab my arm as we were walking out of the station and say ‘You can’t say that.’”
And Levy would respond, “Look, Bill, I know it’s not possible. You know it’s not possible. But people will never remember.”
The magazine currently cites total readership of more than 2.5 million, based on 300,000 paid circulation. Since 1975, the magazine has been nominated 57 times for the prestigious National Magazine Awards, winning 10 times. In 1987, Dow Jones & Company acquired a minority interest in Mediatex Communications Corp., the corporate parent for the magazine. In 1998, Indianapolis-based Emmis Communications (NASDAQ:EMMS), through its Emmis Publishing subsidiary, bought Mediatex from publisher Levy, editor Curtis and Dow Jones. The New York Times reported the selling price as $37 million, plus assumption of subscription liability.
These days, Levy can be found on the 23rd floor of Austin’s Bank of America Center, the same building that housed the magazine’s offices from 1976 to 1989. Floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides of his corner office provide the best view of the capital city in the suite of two offices, a kitchen and a reception area.
A variety of framed photographs from Texas Monthly shooters hang in the reception area. Levy requested the photos in lieu of a going-away party. The images are vintage Texana, such as a cowboy posing with his rifle, cattle in a pasture, a ribbon of highway disappearing into the horizon and a dramatic black-and-white of singing legend Willie Nelson embracing his guitar. Lining file cabinets in the hallway are bound copies of the magazine and a row of the famous “horny toad” coffee cups given by the magazine as specialty gifts.
Scattered throughout the office space are reminders of Levy’s longtime and continuing public service. A plaque hangs in the kitchen commemorating Levy’s honorary membership in the Austin Police Association. A framed Austin-Travis County EMS shirt, dating to 1976, marks Levy’s role in helping to start the local emergency system.
His involvement in and honors from civic and professional organizations are too numerous to list. A brief chronology includes: the 1984 selection by Esquire magazine as being among the Outstanding Americans Under Age 40, the 1999 Henry Johnson Fisher Award from the Magazine Publishers of America (the industry’s highest honor) and the 2003 Missouri Honor Medal for Distinguished Service in Journalism from the University of Missouri’s School of Journalism. The list goes on.
However, if there were an office fire and he had to save one item, Levy is quick to point to a granddaughter’s crayon drawing that declares, “I love my Papa. He is very funny and hilarious.” Given more options in the scenario, he also would take the numerous family photos above his desk and, of course, his favorite sign that reads “I was born a feral animal.”
Keller has worked for Levy twice, for a total of 14-and-a-half years. During her break in employment at Texas Monthly, Keller worked at the Capitol. One day, after the legislative session had ended, her phone rang. Levy didn’t announce who he was – just said, “I miss you … you have to come back.”
Although Keller told Levy OK, she noted that she was three months pregnant. She recalls, “Not only did he not care about taking on an assistant who was about to go on maternity leave, but he allowed me to leave the office every day at 2 p.m. for a year so I could be with my newborn.” She adds, “Of course, I worked about 18 hours a day anyway, but at least it was mostly at home.”
Keller admits, “When people ask me how I have worked for Mike Levy for so long, I always say, ‘I just like him.’ And I mean it.”
One of her favorite anecdotes was circulated throughout the Texas Monthly offices as Levy’s retirement approached.
Keller relates the story. “During my interview with the human resources director, Mike stormed in and asked me if I was detail oriented. I responded, ‘Does anal retentive have a hyphen?’ He grabbed me by my arm and dragged me down to his office where, hanging for all to see, was a T-shirt inscribed ‘Does anal retentive have a hyphen?’ He hired me that day.”
She was tactfully mum, however, when, several years ago, a reporter and friend at the Austin American-Statesman had the idea of doing an article about senior-level assistants.
“This was long before Nanny Diaries and The Devil Wears Prada,” Keller says. “I thought it was a brilliant idea, but I said I couldn’t tell her any of the cool stuff. I couldn’t tell her anything, really.”
For the foundation’s annual meeting in January, Keller prepared a summary “because I felt that we, as a team, might have forgotten the good we have done.”
The summary covered the nine years that the foundation has been making grants. In those years, some 700 grants to 281 organizations have totaled nearly $3.3 million.
Keller wrote, “We have helped the young and the elderly, given locally and internationally, and helped Jews and Christians alike. We’ve honored soldiers, police officers and firemen. We have given support to victims of almost every natural disaster in recent years.”
Even a partial list of beneficiaries is lengthy: a children’s HIV summer camp; schools that needed guitar lessons, art classes, music classes and new books; teenage girls who needed prom dresses; hundreds of hungry children who needed food; students who were sent on tours of the Holocaust Museum and the Alamo; the Austin Humane Society when it needed help buying a new air conditioning unit; countless adopted animals; new moms who, via a special monitor, were able to see their babies in the cardiac unit at another hospital; families who were made more comfortable with a new grieving room in the emergency wing of a children’s hospital; and on and on.
“We’ve planted trees, hung photographs and art in museums, given our beloved musicians medical care, provided for thought-provoking radio programming, and awarded scholarships to young adults for a summer internship in Israel,” Keller continues. “We’ve honored and supported so many of our friends and colleagues in their goals to raise money for their favorite charities.”
Her favorite? Not surprisingly, as a mom, she cites the occasion when the foundation funded open-heart surgery for two children “so they can run and play – something neither had been able to do by the age of three.”
No doubt, Uncle Meyer would be proud. And, no doubt, Levy is, too. He just prefers to let Keller talk about the good works.
Still, there are brief glimpses of Levy’s softer side, such as his response to a query about his thoughts on aging.
“I’m glad you asked that question,” Levy says as he relates a conversation with the “younger” fiancée of a “rather prominent” Texan. “I asked her how her father felt about her relationship with someone older. She said her dad responded, ‘Your heart doesn’t know how old you are.’”
Reverting to his unvarnished persona, however, Levy adds, “My daughters keep asking, ‘Dad, when are you going to grow up?’ And my response is always, ‘Why?’”
Do you have a special hobby – or other lifestyle interest – to share? Please email patricia.baldwin@texaslawbook.net.
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