As much friend as boss to his staff at The New Yorker—especially writers—Harold Ross is a man of great enthusiasms and occasionally great tirades. Although not as steeped in literary traditions as some of his staff, Ross has a clear vision to produce the best, most unusual and most interesting magazine in the country. To that end, he hires the best talent he can find—including people like White and Thurber. One day Ross takes the elevator down to meet a friend for lunch, and spots Thurber and White on the street corner. "There go my two best writers," Ross tells his friend. "One can't see to cross the street and the other is afraid to." Ross is as much benevolent father figure as tyrant; he overlooks such oddities as White's tendency to disappear with explanation from the office for days or weeks.
Letters of E. B. White