Mr. Lanyi, who died Tuesday at 84, was one of the best-known stockbrokers of his generation. He was arguably as good at selling himself as he was at selling the stock issues his small shop -- a unit of Oppenheimer & Co. Inc. -- offered at any given time.
In a Hungarian accent so thick that some of his clients could barely understand his recommendations, Mr. Lanyi dispensed pearls of wisdom that became part of his legend.
Photo: Paul Lanyi
He listed a dozen of his favorites in his 1992 memoir, "Confessions of a Stockbroker." Among them: "The only people who sell at the highs and buy at the lows are liars." And then there was his sure-fire deal-closer: "You and I want to swim the English Channel, let's put our toe in the water."
Mr. Lanyi's immersion extended to holding most of the stocks he recommended, something that many Wall Street firms have tried to avoid by separating brokerage and analysis. But to Mr. Lanyi, owning what he recommended was proof of his credibility.
The goal, he often said, was to find "tomorrow's blue chips today," and he developed methods for researching emerging companies. He would call a firm's suppliers and customers, or even call a company's commercial printer to see if activity was on the rise.
"What everyone knows isn't worth knowing," he often said, attributing the quote to journalist Walter Lippmann.
"He was very good at identifying emerging companies," recalls Frank James, who was manager of Oppenheimer's midtown Manhattan branch where Mr. Lanyi worked. Mr. James recalled being taken to the Waldorf Astoria for breakfast by Mr. Lanyi on Mr. James's first day on the job -- a typical flourish by Mr. Lanyi, who liked to mix business and pleasure. He often would host a week-night dinner party until midnight, then work until 5 a.m. before waking two hours later to work out -- a work-around-the-clock habit some attributed to his difficult experiences during World War II.
"He didn't need much sleep, because of the forced marches he'd undergone," says his wife and publicist, Diane Lanyi.
A native of Budapest, Mr. Lanyi was enslaved during World War II to help the Germans build airports and other facilities for the Wehrmacht. "It was vastly better than being locked into a concentration camp," he wrote in his memoir. He crossed the border into Austria during the 1956 Soviet crackdown in Hungary, and managed to make it to the United States.
Mr. Lanyi's first job in the securities industry was selling mutual funds on commission to Hungarian clients he targeted by picking their names out of the phone book.
The job wasn't without its problems, he later wrote: "I never sold anything in my life, I didn't know what a mutual fund was and I didn't speak any English." He somehow made the job work and his accent became part of his personal charm.
Within a few years, he was selling stocks and working as an analyst for Lehman Brothers and others before joining Oppenheimer.
Mr. Lanyi was known for acting as a mentor, and liked to hire right out of college. John Van Clief, formerly a managing director at Lanyi Research, says, "It was like tough love, like a second father. He was very disciplined and had a very deep affection for his employees."
One graduate he promoted out of the mail room was Maureen Gillespie. "He said he would be my ambition whether I liked it or not," says Ms. Gillespie.
For his funeral, an announcement read in part:
"Guests are encouraged to wear primary colors or bright clothing in memory of Andrew's colorful style of dressing." [rc]
Stephen Miller
E-Mail: stephen.miller@wsj.com
Copyright ©2009 Dow Jones & Company, Inc.
August 7, 2009
USA: Andrew Lanyi, 84, was a survivor of Nazi brutality who ascended Wall Street
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NEW YORK, NY / Wall Street Journal / Business / August 7, 2009
REMEMBRANCES
Andrew Lanyi: 1925-2009
By Stephen Miller
Securities analyst Andrew Lanyi had an unusual gift for his clients: a T-shirt with his smiling profile silk screened on it. Don't need a T-shirt? How about a Lanyi souvenir watch?
Mr. Lanyi, who died Tuesday at 84, was one of the best-known stockbrokers of his generation. He was arguably as good at selling himself as he was at selling the stock issues his small shop -- a unit of Oppenheimer & Co. Inc. -- offered at any given time.
In a Hungarian accent so thick that some of his clients could barely understand his recommendations, Mr. Lanyi dispensed pearls of wisdom that became part of his legend.
Photo: Paul Lanyi
He listed a dozen of his favorites in his 1992 memoir, "Confessions of a Stockbroker." Among them: "The only people who sell at the highs and buy at the lows are liars." And then there was his sure-fire deal-closer: "You and I want to swim the English Channel, let's put our toe in the water."
Mr. Lanyi's immersion extended to holding most of the stocks he recommended, something that many Wall Street firms have tried to avoid by separating brokerage and analysis. But to Mr. Lanyi, owning what he recommended was proof of his credibility.
The goal, he often said, was to find "tomorrow's blue chips today," and he developed methods for researching emerging companies. He would call a firm's suppliers and customers, or even call a company's commercial printer to see if activity was on the rise.
"What everyone knows isn't worth knowing," he often said, attributing the quote to journalist Walter Lippmann.
"He was very good at identifying emerging companies," recalls Frank James, who was manager of Oppenheimer's midtown Manhattan branch where Mr. Lanyi worked. Mr. James recalled being taken to the Waldorf Astoria for breakfast by Mr. Lanyi on Mr. James's first day on the job -- a typical flourish by Mr. Lanyi, who liked to mix business and pleasure. He often would host a week-night dinner party until midnight, then work until 5 a.m. before waking two hours later to work out -- a work-around-the-clock habit some attributed to his difficult experiences during World War II.
"He didn't need much sleep, because of the forced marches he'd undergone," says his wife and publicist, Diane Lanyi.
A native of Budapest, Mr. Lanyi was enslaved during World War II to help the Germans build airports and other facilities for the Wehrmacht. "It was vastly better than being locked into a concentration camp," he wrote in his memoir. He crossed the border into Austria during the 1956 Soviet crackdown in Hungary, and managed to make it to the United States.
Mr. Lanyi's first job in the securities industry was selling mutual funds on commission to Hungarian clients he targeted by picking their names out of the phone book.
The job wasn't without its problems, he later wrote: "I never sold anything in my life, I didn't know what a mutual fund was and I didn't speak any English." He somehow made the job work and his accent became part of his personal charm.
Within a few years, he was selling stocks and working as an analyst for Lehman Brothers and others before joining Oppenheimer.
Mr. Lanyi was known for acting as a mentor, and liked to hire right out of college. John Van Clief, formerly a managing director at Lanyi Research, says, "It was like tough love, like a second father. He was very disciplined and had a very deep affection for his employees."
One graduate he promoted out of the mail room was Maureen Gillespie. "He said he would be my ambition whether I liked it or not," says Ms. Gillespie.
For his funeral, an announcement read in part:
"Guests are encouraged to wear primary colors or bright clothing in memory of Andrew's colorful style of dressing." [rc]
Stephen Miller
E-Mail: stephen.miller@wsj.com
Copyright ©2009 Dow Jones & Company, Inc.
Mr. Lanyi, who died Tuesday at 84, was one of the best-known stockbrokers of his generation. He was arguably as good at selling himself as he was at selling the stock issues his small shop -- a unit of Oppenheimer & Co. Inc. -- offered at any given time.
In a Hungarian accent so thick that some of his clients could barely understand his recommendations, Mr. Lanyi dispensed pearls of wisdom that became part of his legend.
Photo: Paul Lanyi
He listed a dozen of his favorites in his 1992 memoir, "Confessions of a Stockbroker." Among them: "The only people who sell at the highs and buy at the lows are liars." And then there was his sure-fire deal-closer: "You and I want to swim the English Channel, let's put our toe in the water."
Mr. Lanyi's immersion extended to holding most of the stocks he recommended, something that many Wall Street firms have tried to avoid by separating brokerage and analysis. But to Mr. Lanyi, owning what he recommended was proof of his credibility.
The goal, he often said, was to find "tomorrow's blue chips today," and he developed methods for researching emerging companies. He would call a firm's suppliers and customers, or even call a company's commercial printer to see if activity was on the rise.
"What everyone knows isn't worth knowing," he often said, attributing the quote to journalist Walter Lippmann.
"He was very good at identifying emerging companies," recalls Frank James, who was manager of Oppenheimer's midtown Manhattan branch where Mr. Lanyi worked. Mr. James recalled being taken to the Waldorf Astoria for breakfast by Mr. Lanyi on Mr. James's first day on the job -- a typical flourish by Mr. Lanyi, who liked to mix business and pleasure. He often would host a week-night dinner party until midnight, then work until 5 a.m. before waking two hours later to work out -- a work-around-the-clock habit some attributed to his difficult experiences during World War II.
"He didn't need much sleep, because of the forced marches he'd undergone," says his wife and publicist, Diane Lanyi.
A native of Budapest, Mr. Lanyi was enslaved during World War II to help the Germans build airports and other facilities for the Wehrmacht. "It was vastly better than being locked into a concentration camp," he wrote in his memoir. He crossed the border into Austria during the 1956 Soviet crackdown in Hungary, and managed to make it to the United States.
Mr. Lanyi's first job in the securities industry was selling mutual funds on commission to Hungarian clients he targeted by picking their names out of the phone book.
The job wasn't without its problems, he later wrote: "I never sold anything in my life, I didn't know what a mutual fund was and I didn't speak any English." He somehow made the job work and his accent became part of his personal charm.
Within a few years, he was selling stocks and working as an analyst for Lehman Brothers and others before joining Oppenheimer.
Mr. Lanyi was known for acting as a mentor, and liked to hire right out of college. John Van Clief, formerly a managing director at Lanyi Research, says, "It was like tough love, like a second father. He was very disciplined and had a very deep affection for his employees."
One graduate he promoted out of the mail room was Maureen Gillespie. "He said he would be my ambition whether I liked it or not," says Ms. Gillespie.
For his funeral, an announcement read in part:
"Guests are encouraged to wear primary colors or bright clothing in memory of Andrew's colorful style of dressing." [rc]
Stephen Miller
E-Mail: stephen.miller@wsj.com
Copyright ©2009 Dow Jones & Company, Inc.
