The Harry I knew

Lost one of my heroes

In the final year of the last Century, my last year of Graduate School, the San Diego Union Tribune did an article on Harry Markowitz. Thus, I learned he and I lived in the same city. Of course, I called him up to propose a lunch. Lucky for me he said “Yes.” It was before cellphone cameras. To that first lunch I brought a small “point-and-shoot” camera which I asked his assistant to use. Unfortunately, I did not notice it was set on “Panoramic” which provided a very wide view of many things except, ironically, the heads of the subjects. Harry was 6’4”. For years a picture hung in my office of two hands shaking in front of Harry Markowitz’s belt buckle. Thus began a great friendship.

He towered over me in all respects. He embodied the best of what it meant to be an academic. To those who value rational thinking he was a National Treasure. Every bit equal to his academic accomplishments was his humanity. At that first lunch he described his penchant for putting 25-year-old balsamic vinegar on ice cream. He liked to cook. We exchanged recipes for more than two decades.

His sense of humor was grand. We had heard many of the same jokes but delighted in telling variants of them over again to each other. When, rarely, I had one he had not heard he relished it, doubling over in laughter. It occurred to me that if my greatest accomplishment in academia was making Harry laugh, that would be enough.

Rational in all areas, his health was no exception. For years I would set aside an entire afternoon for our regular lunch, knowing it would be preceded and followed by a long walk. During those walks we discussed all manner of things, academics, mathematics, art and theater, family and, of course, economics.

He shared my bemused interest in politics, wondering right alongside me and everyone else where those whacky ideas came from and who really believed they would work.

His own pure rationality was tempered and tested by his devotion to his wife, Barbara. I was glad to have had the chance to tell him what I admired most in him was his care for her. When the COVID pandrossy ruined plans for their 50^th wedding anniversary, I know it was a big disappointment.

He was always writing. He thought he had something to say, and he was right. His view of the world influenced finance; his view of life influenced me. I was so lucky. I heard some of the best things Harry had to say directly from him.

Naturally, we both slowed over the years. I once told him I had made it to the age he was when we first met. He was not impressed. After he turned 90, he was fond of saying that it was too late for him to “die tragically.” The walks got shorter but if the spring in his step lagged, his mind never did. He was always in search of a puzzle, a pun or a way to see life like no one else.

We all should emulate my friend whom I often referred to, in his presence and with a hint of foolishness, as “The Great Man.” The truth is Harry enjoyed being Harry. We are all the richer for it.

Harry’s incredible mind gave us Modern Portfolio Theory. More importantly, his wonderful heart gave rationality a good name.