Privileged Son

By Dennis McDougal

IN THESE PAGES, Otis Chandler opened up himself and his family to an outsider's extensive scrutiny for the first time. Otis knew from the outset that he might not always be pleased with my conclusions, and would surely have changed some of the less flattering anecdotes and characterizations had this been his autobiogra- phy or even an "authorized" biography with all the pulled punches that such a phrase implies. The telling of part of his tale—including the breakup of his first marriage, the unforeseen tragedy that befell his eldest son, and his ambivalence about losing control of his Los Angeles Times—was visibly painful for him to dis- cuss. To his credit, he answered questions even when he did not want them asked in the first place. Though frequently tempted otherwise, Otis was ultimately true to the Jeffersonian principles of Western journalism by which he has conducted most of his professional life: try to tell the truth and let the chips fall where they will.

More than once, his candor has landed Otis Chandler in hot water. Over the years, his closed-mouth relatives have lambasted him mercilessly for speaking his mind, which may account in large part for his reluctance to speak at length to an author before now. For several months in the spring and summer of 2000, Otis met with me weekly—usually on a Tuesday. At one point, several weeks into the project, I suggested Tuesdays with Otis as an alternative title for the book. Cau- tion quickly gave way to candor and I soon had the necessary palette from which to paint an accurate portrait of this remarkable, charismatic, and multi- dimensional molder of modern day Los Angeles. To Otis, Bettina, Missy, Harry, Michael, Carolyn, Cathleen, and all the other Chandlers who let down their guard and spoke their truths, I am deeply grateful.


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