THROUGHOUT THE COURSE of this project, many have shared with me their experiences of Leon Uris, from a Chilean doctor who read Exodus at thirteen to a woman who toured Ireland using Trinity as a guide. This narrative reverses the process, telling the story of Leon Uris’s life in order to share it with his readers. Three people have been especially important in its writing: the first is the late Milton Smith, a Texas philanthropist and businessman who was instrumental in facilitating the acquisition of the Uris archive for the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center at the University of Texas at Austin. Matching his enthusiasm for this account of Uris was his energetic and persistent encouragement. Only just before his death at ninety-five did he grudgingly admit that “he did not have life by a long string,” urging me not to waste time. The Moshana Foundation, which Smith founded with his wife Helen, has been, and continues to be, an active sponsor of cultural activities throughout Texas and beyond. Their support of this project is graciously acknowledged. Lonnie Taub, the current director of the Moshana Foundation and Milton Smith’s daughter, has maintained her father’s passion for the subject.
Mark Uris, Leon Uris’s eldest son, was also a remarkable resource and support. His candidness in sharing details about growing up with his father and the adventures of travel, research, and skiing—a Uris passion—was highly valued. His generosity was constant and deeply appreciated. Mark’s memory of the family’s dramatic departure from Israel in 1956 during the Suez crisis is a keynote in my recounting of Uris’s eight-month stay in the country. Additionally, his research into sources, stories, and documents wonderfully augmented my own investigations. In a spirit of cooperation, he offered letters, photographs, and information. His death from cancer in 2007 was as unexpected as it was tragic.
Jill Uris is the third figure without whose help this book would not possess any of its detail or possible merit. Her early and welcoming response, plus repeated encouragement, was matched by her kindliness in answering queries, confirming dates, and offering the names of additional Uris friends and associates who could clarify the story. Her gathering of many of Uris’s friends at the Maroon Creek Club during my visit to Aspen in June 2005 was a remarkable moment, and I am grateful. Meeting Marti and Ken Sterling, Walt Smith, and later Andy Hecht and Dr. Robert Oden was an important starting point for the narrative.
Others in Uris’s family who helped include Essie Kofsky, Leon Uris’s half sister. Her memories of Uris growing up in Norfolk, Virginia, and his steps to fame were vivid, as was her recollection of her mother and family life. Idalea Kofsky Rubin, Essie’s daughter and Leon Uris’s niece, was also helpful in clarifying family connections. Additionally, Karen Uris, Leon Uris’s oldest daughter, was an important source regarding family life, offering insights, especially about her mother, Betty, and photographs. Pat Uris, wife of the late Mark Uris, also provided useful details of the family’s early years. Rachael and Conor Uris, the youngest children of Leon Uris, kindly offered comments and memories of life with their father in both Aspen and Shelter Island, New York.
Herschel Blumberg, Uris’s cousin, met with me in Chevy Chase, Maryland, to review the early and the last days of Leon Uris. Herbert Schlosberg of Sherman Oaks, California, was gracious in letting me spend an afternoon with him as he recounted meeting Uris for the first time and the challenges of remaining his business agent, lawyer, and general manager for some forty years. His own career in the marines, including the assault on Iwo Jima, was one of courage and bravery.
Through the help of my son Ryan Nadel, then in Israel, I was fortunate enough to locate Ilan Hartuv, who had served as guide, assistant, and general pathfinder for Uris when he was researching Exodus. Hartuv’s own life—as a diplomat, an ambassador, and then, frighteningly, a hostage at Entebbe who was rescued by the Israeli commandoes in July 1976—nearly overshadowed his many adventures with Uris during the research for both Exodus and Jerusalem: Song of Songs. He was precise as he recalled incidents and people whom Uris had met, and recounted the later challenge of working with Otto Preminger. Rochelle and Garry Mass of Gan Ner, Israel, were wonderful hosts, encouraging supporters, and able translators.
Oscar Dystel, the former president of Bantam Books, was a remarkable figure who, with Esther Margolis, the founder of Newmarket Press and a former publicist at Bantam, collectively brought to life the impact of Uris’s writing on the popular-book trade. To listen to them was an education in the promotion, marketing, and selling of books during a time when the viability of the paperback was emerging. Michael Neiditch of Washington, D.C., was a constant source of Uris details, having befriended him in New York after Uris moved there in 1988 and later traveling with him in Russia. Micky was a source of facts, anecdotes, and events that helped me define the character of Uris and his commitment to Jewish social and political values.
Michael Remer and Lee Snow, attorneys in New York, took time from their busy practices to answer questions and smooth the way. Nancy Stauffer, Uris’s former agent, met with me at Uris’s favorite New York hotel, the Algonquin, and kindly shared with me details of his later career. Channing Thieme Penna was especially helpful in providing details of Uris’s life in New York and Shelter Island. Her description of Uris’s commitment to the theatre and renewed interest in writing, first a children’s story and then his last novels, illuminated his late style for me.
In Austin, Thomas F. Staley, the director of the Ransom Center, remains a catalytic figure who ignites new projects and guides authors new and old with eagerness and enthusiasm. His professionalism and friendship is infectious and undiminished. As friend and guide, he has both nurtured and propelled this study. Tim Staley, formerly at the University of Texas Press, was also an early and continuous supporter of the book who, in its early stages, managed its progress through administrative and other challenges. Joanna Hitchcock, the director of the press, was also a helpful and encouraging voice, while Jim Burr, humanities editor, has proved to be an able and supportive guide as well as an excellent critic.
Liz Murray, an archivist at the Ransom Center, remains the best-informed and most helpful scholar of the Uris archive and was a constant source of new details, locating sometimes-misplaced documents, while being a wonderful booster of the project. Her skill in identifying important materials is exceeded only by her efficiency and availability. Others at the Ransom Center who assisted include Joan Sibley, Pat Fox, and Alex Jasinski (who is especially knowledgeable about military matters). Thanks also to the staff members of the Ransom Center’s Reading Room, who by now know how to parry frequent requests for longer hours, more time, and no holiday breaks.
Aaron Zacks, at the Department of English at the University of Texas, Austin, and the Ransom Center, was an outstanding research assistant who, even when I could not be on site, managed to conduct important forays into the archive. Alan Friedman and Elizabeth Cullingford generously shared with me not only their wide knowledge of modernist writing but also their home. Every trip to Austin was an opportunity to renew a longstanding friendship for which I am grateful.
Additional help came from Uris’s various research assistants, Marilynn Pysher and Diane Eagle in particular. Marilynn was an informative guide to Shelter Island, making sure I understood its history and culture. Diane helpfully told me how Uris worked and the challenges he presented daily. Evelyn Englander, formerly the librarian at the U.S. Marine Corps Historical Center Library at the Navy Yard in Washington, was also an important resource. Glenn Horowitz has again been a stimulating voice, one always in tune with the changing tempo of New York book life. Donald MacDonald, an architect in San Francisco, was immensely helpful in introducing me to Larkspur, as was the staff at the Larkspur Public Library. Also to be thanked is Patty Raab, a public safety records specialist for the Aspen Police Department in Aspen, Colorado.
On a more personal level, my son Ryan Nadel assisted in Israel with translation, travel, and transitions from one culture to another. He was also able to locate and provide me with a set of Hebrew editions of Uris’s work, and he discovered Ilan Hartuv. My daughter Dara, having herself just completed a year at Hebrew University, provided further insight as she read through several Uris novels and posed probing questions from Israel and Montreal. Anne MacKenzie continues to be a marvelous companion and support, providing balance and style to a life that can be too easily spent in the study or the archive.