Last Man Standing Read Free

be successful.”
    Despite graduating fourth in his class, Dimon was not accepted by the college of his choice: Brown University. He went to his second choice, Tufts, where he majored in psychology and economics. The latter proved to be his passion. After writing a paper on Milton Friedman’s
Capitalism and Freedom
, he was encouraged by his professor to send the paper to Friedman himself. The economist responded with an eight-page letter, critiquing Dimon’s critique. “He said something along the lines of, ‘Son, I really appreciate you sending this to me. While I agree with some of your points, you’re wrong about a, b, c, and d, and there’s some faulty logic here and there,’” recalls Dimon. “I was blown away by it. Partly as a result of that, I always try to reply when someone sends something to me. I can’t write an eight-page critique, but I try.”
    It was another economics paper, though, that set the trajectory of the young man’s life. During his sophomore year, he wrote an analysis of the 1974 merger of Hayden Stone and Shearson Hammill in which he explored the savings one could achieve by combining an efficient company (Hayden Stone) with an inefficient one (Shearson Hammill). He knew of the transaction through his family, as his father was still working for Shearson Hammill at the time of the deal. Hayden Stone was the acquisition vehicle of one Sandy Weill, in the midst of what was the first of his two empire-building campaigns.
    By this time, Jamie Dimon had actually met Sandy Weill; his parents had become close to the garrulous financier and his wife, Joan. Ted Dimon Sr., as impetuous as his son, had written Weill a memo at the time of the merger, laying out his demands if he were to stick around under the Weill regime. When the elder Dimon called Weill to ask what he thought of the memo, Weill said that he had no thoughts at all, that he’d thrown it out. He proposed that the two men get together for a drink at the private, exclusive Harmonie Club—a Jewish preserve—instead. When they met, Weill asked Dimon to repeat his “demands.” “I want this …,” began Dimon. “Yes,” replied Weill. “And I want that …,” continued Dimon. “No,” replied Weill. And so on.
    Overall, Dimon Sr. liked what he heard. This was a man who offered no bullshit, who genuinely seemed to understand the broker’s concerns. He said he would allow Weill to “continue to process his trades.” Translation: there might be a company name on his business card, but Ted Dimon Sr. reported to no one. He ran his own business. (Later in his career, when Jamie had become his father’s superior, the son would confirm that Dimon Sr. still considered himself a free agent, that “he would never say I was his boss.”)
    Before long, the Weills and Dimons were spending significant amounts of time together. They spent a few weekends together in East Hampton, and the Dimons joined the Weills at one or two seder dinners. The glue of the relationship was the wives, who had lunch between classes at the New School—Joan Weill was also taking courses in 1975—and through their friendship, Dimon and his siblings came to know Weill’s children, Marc and Jessica. (Friends in their teens, the three crossed paths again while working for Weill in the 1990s.)
    Excited that her son had chosen a thesis topic that touched on both her family and her friends, Themis asked him if she could show the paper to Weill. “I have never seen the merger from this point of view,” Weill told her after reading it. He sent Dimon a note that read, “Terrific paper. Can I show it to people here?” The forthright student seized his opportunity. “Absolutely,” he replied. “Can I have a summer job?” Weill hired Jamie Dimon to work with the budgeting team in the company’s consumer business that summer.
    Joining his parents at the Weill house on weekends, the young Dimon peppered Weill with questions about why the company was doing one