Chapter 8, Part 1

By Frank Tursi, Susan E. White and Steve McQuilkin
JOURNAL REPORTERS
© Winston-Salem Journal

Hans Henry Ramm had reason to be proud as he greeted the other lawyers who began filing into the conference room. The strategy he had helped devise was working. It was going so well, in fact, that the lawyers could be forgiven for appearing a bit smug.

Joe Bumgardner, shown in his current workplace in Raleigh, was fourth on the list of 26 RJR researchers who were to be fired in 1970. (Journal Photo by Chris English)

In the 11 years since 1954, when the first plaintiff had sued a tobacco company for damages tied to smoking, only a handful of smokers and their relatives had followed with similar actions. All these cases had either been thrown out of court or had ended in the industry's favor. So far, the industry had successfully rebutted the health charges by insisting that not enough was known about cancer and its causes; the matter was still an open question.

As the general counsel of R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Co., Ramm knew that the surgeon general's report had convinced more people that smoking caused cancer. The tobacco companies, he feared, would have to prepare for the flood of lawsuits that would inevitably follow if such a notion were allowed to take hold. The Cigarette Label and Advertising Act that Congress recently passed could help. To the public it appeared that the tobacco industry had taken a beating, but Ramm and the other lawyers knew otherwise. The government's weakly worded label could shield the industry from lawsuits.

Still, the industry was at a crossroads. Its survival depended on how well smokers trusted the companies' promises to investigate the claims that cigarettes were dangerous and to remove any harmful substances in tobacco or cigarette smoke. (Pringle footnote)

The R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Co. was once the largest cigarette company in the United States with a powerhouse of best-selling brands: Winston, Salem and Camel. But times changed, and as the case against smoking became more pronounced in the 1960s, RJR failed to adapt to the marketplace. Its rivals would eventually rush past it, and RJR's efforts to catch up would have a profound impact on the company and the cigarette industry.

What the smokers didn't know was that they were entrusting their lives to Henry Ramm and five other lawyers: Cy Hetsko of American Tobacco Co., Addison Yeaman of Brown & Williamson, Paul Smith of Philip Morris, Fred Haas of Liggett & Myers and John Russell of P. Lorillard. They made up the Committee of Counsel, which the company presidents set up to determine the industry's response to the health charges made in the surgeon general's report in 1964.

Scientific studies could be undertaken or killed at the committee's request. Reports could be issued or trashed. The lawyers decided which witnesses testified, what the companies said publicly and what they kept secret.

''As Chairman of this Committee and the representative of the largest manufacturer, Mr. Ramm is probably the most influential member of the U.S. tobacco industry, apart from the Presidents, in forming industry policy in the field of smoking and health,'' concluded lawyers of British-American Tobacco Co., who visited the United States in the fall of 1964. ''The lawyers are thus the most powerful group in the smoking and health situation.''

Richard Daynard, a persistent tobacco critic who heads the Tobacco Products Liability Project in Boston, offered a more recent and darker assessment: ''Everything suggests that they've (lawyers) been running the show . . . because the executives wanted them to run the show,'' he said. ''They've been persuaded that telling the truth is not the best policy and also because they've gone so far in this tangled web, they need the lawyers to guide them through it. They just created such a morass of lies, half-truths and stonewalling; they're really at the mercy of these lawyers. They put themselves there.''

The lawyers had one goal: to keep the tobacco companies out of court. And they could do that as long as no one suggested that cigarettes were harmful and as long as the public remained convinced that the causes of cancer were unknown.

''The leadership in the U.S. smoking and health situation therefore lies with the powerful Policy Committee of senior lawyers advising the industry,'' the BAT lawyers wrote. ''And their policy, very understandably, in effect is `Don't take any chances.' It is a situation that does not encourage constructive or bold approaches to smoking and health problems, and it also means that the Policy Committee of lawyers exercises close control over all aspects of the problems.''

Henry Ramm was a lot of things, but he was not a risk-taker.

Pompous and at times overbearing, Ramm ran Reynolds' legal department with an iron fist.

He stalked the halls of the Reynolds Building with a Camel stuck between his lips. Cigarette ashes dusted his lapels because Ramm rarely flicked the ashes away.

Ron Sustana, the company's former director of public relations, likened Ramm to the tyrannical Captain Bligh in Mutiny on the Bounty.

''He was a tough and intimidating man,'' Sustana said. ''People were terrified of him and some with good cause.''

Short and stocky, Ramm typically had a dour look about him, leaving some to wonder if he ever smiled or laughed. He was standoffish and had little time for small talk.

''He apparently did not suffer fools gladly,'' said a former Reynolds lawyer.

''That was probably the biggest complaint you'd hear. He just ran roughshod over people. He just didn't have time for disagreement. He was in charge, and he took his mission very seriously.''

But Ramm could be trusted with the company's best interests. Bowman Gray Jr., the company's president, considered Ramm a confidant and would come to lean on him when he became ill in the late 1960s. During this period, Ramm supposedly visited Gray every weekend at his home in Florida.

Ramm could be just as controlling at home as he was at work. He managed his family finances with the same meticulous order that he managed Reynolds' legal department. He kept detailed records of all personal expenses. He abhorred mistakes.

But Ramm was a paradox. His wife and two children saw a different side, that of a man who was extremely passionate about music, food and flowers. He loved opera. His Norwegian parents introduced him to it when he was a youngster. When Ramm's family moved to New York City, he became so enamored of the Metropolitan Opera that he saved his allowance to buy tickets.

''That would be his big treat. It was his lifelong love,'' said Kitsie Tomko, Ramm's daughter.

In 1956, Ramm helped found the Piedmont Opera Company and was elected its president. The first performance at Reynolds Auditorium drew 1,000 people.

''I asked him at one point . . . what he would have been had he not been a lawyer and he said a conductor,'' Tomko recalled. ''So I think that his love of music was deep.''

Ramm was equally passionate about food. A world-class traveler, he loved to dine in the best restaurants and invariably knew which ones to avoid.

Neighbors who barely saw Ramm during the week usually caught him on weekends, spraying his beloved roses. Ramm zealously researched the flowers and planted several varieties around his house. This gruff man who terrorized his co-workers would welcome his daughter home from college by leaving a fresh bouquet of roses in her room. ''He was a very wonderful dad,'' Tomko said.

Locally, Ramm helped create the North Carolina Governor's School, a summer program that opened on the campus of Salem College in June 1963. He persuaded 11 Winston-Salem businesses to donate $225,000 to help start the school.

These personal details have gotten lost over the years in the mountains of gossip surrounding Ramm's professional life.

When Reynolds hired Ramm in 1946, the company's fledgling legal department did little more than handle tax matters and patents. Before joining RJR, Ramm worked for Davis, Polk, Wardwell, Sunderland and Kiendl, a New York firm that specialized in securities law. The firm continues to represent Reynolds today. (Tilley footnote; description of Ramm's early career.)

As a vice president and the head of RJR's legal department, Ramm was serious-minded and quick thinking. Three months after joining RJR, he was appointed to the company's board of directors. He also became a member of its powerful executive committee.

But as news spread about the harmful effects of smoking, Ramm's role at the company took on even greater significance. For the first time, the tobacco industry feared a serious legal threat from sick smokers. Ramm was determined that the companies would not drown in lawsuits.