Ironically, he was prompted to reconsider the Post by a visit to Mount Kisco from Cissy Patterson - Eleanor Medill Patterson - who had been a longtime friend of both me parents. Cissy was the sister of Joe Patterson, founder of the New York Daily News - at that time the great tabloid - and the cousin of Colonel Robert McCormick, owner and publisher of the Chicago Tribune.

The McCormick women were strong and intelligent, and Cissy was all of that. She was what the French call a "jolie laide" - a woman who is feature for feature ugly but succeeds in being beautiful. She lived in a mansion on Dupont Circle, now the Washington Club, became the editor of Hearst's morning Herald, and later was also editor and publisher of the afternoon Washington Times, leasing the papers from Hearst until she finally bought them and combined them into one all-day paper. At this point, in 1933, she knew one important thing: that her future depended on who owned The Washington Post.

Aware of my father's previous attempts to buy Washington newspapers, she came to ask if he meant to but the Post now, and her question actually re-aroused his interest. This time it held, and he came down to Washington to pursue the paper. Since it was known that he had at one time been willing to pay $5 million for it, he didn't want to escalate the bidding at the auction by revealing his identity. Consequently, he had a lawyer, George E. Hamilton, Jr., do the bidding for him, and instructed Hamilton to raise anybody's bid by $50,000 or even $100,000 immediately, as though he were going to go on forever, then to jump in increments of $25,000 once the bidding reached $800,000. He also gave Hamilton an outside parameter of $1.5 to $1.7 million, and sent him off to the auction on his behalf. He himself remained out of sight at Crescent Place, which was essentially close up for the summer, hiding with his friend and lifelong assistant, Floyd Harrison.

The auction was held on the steps of the Post's gray gingerbread building at E Street on Pennsylvania Avenue on June 1, 1933, just a few weeks after my father had ostensibly retired. Gathered there on the steps of the building that day, among others, were Ned McLean's estranged wife, Evalyn, dressed in black and wearing the Hope diamond; her two sons; her friend Alice Longworth; David Bruce, then Andrew Mellon's son-in-law; the Washington Star's president, Victor Kaufmann, and its business manager, Fleming Newbold; and representatives for the McLeans, Hearst, and other bidders. All that was being sold at auction was what was left of the fifth of five newspapers in town: a circulation reduced to fifty thousand, the quaint, run-down old building, and an AP franchise - in short, a decrepit paper with debts of $600,000.

Mrs.McLean's attorney and Hearst's lawyers, urged on by Cissy, were the only bidders who stayed with Hamilton's bids initially, but Mrs.McLean dropped out of the bidding at $600,000. Hearst's people kept pace with Hamilton's bids until the price reached $800,000. Hamilton, as instructed, went to $825,000. Hearst must have instructed his bidders to stop at $800,000, because they then dropped out. Cissy Patterson begged the auctioneer to delay the award so that she could telephone Hearst for his authority to go higher. She received three delays, but then Hamilton threatened to withdraw his bid. Hearst, who was no doubt cash-poor in 1933, finally refused to go on. The gavel came down to Hamilton, acting on behalf of an anonymous bidder. My father had bought The Washington Post - for which he had five years earlier offered $5 million - for $825,000.