Boone

"Richard ended up referencing it, and I had to come clean with the paperwork. Boone was highly agitated. The meeting was essentially over at that point even though, in true Rainwater fashion, Richard invited the Mesa team to join us all for some cake and ice cream and loud country music in the office to celebrate a colleague’s birthday. Richard entertained us all, but Boone was not amused. I later learned that on the ride home he had some choice words to say about me and my numbers."

"Boone was a champion of shareholder rights and made the point at all those companies that the incumbent management teams were not working hard enough to increase shareholder value. Hence, his narrative went, he bid for the stock to reward the shareholders and get control. While the strategy didn’t work in the end, in each case the stock prices increased from his purchase price, so he was able to sell out at a nice profit. This rewarded both Boone and the Mesa equity holders, of course."

"Drexel’s problem was that it had no Fortune 500 client with a billion-dollar bank line to wage a takeover. But what if Drexel had the billion dollars, at the ready? Or what if they said they did (and got it later)? And what if, by their staking the word of the firm on this claim, the world believed it and acted accordingly? In the new lexicon—and universe—that Drexel would soon create, this concept would become known as the “highly confident” letter. But for now it was christened (for its emptiness) the Air Fund. “We would announce to the world that we had raised one billion dollars for hostile takeovers,” one Drexel executive recalled. “There would be no money in this fund—it was just a threat. The Air Fund stood for our not having a client with deep pockets who could be in a takeover. It was a substitute for that client we didn’t have. “That concept led to our making Carl Icahn real instead of nettlesome. Carl ended up being our Air Fund. Boone ended up being our Air Fund. We manufactured out of thin air—almost thin air—a credible takeover guy.”"

"Drexel’s problem was that it had no Fortune 500 client with a billion-dollar bank line to wage a takeover. But what if Drexel had the billion dollars, at the ready? Or what if they said they did (and got it later)? And what if, by their staking the word of the firm on this claim, the world believed it and acted accordingly? In the new lexicon—and universe—that Drexel would soon create, this concept would become known as the “highly confident” letter. But for now it was christened (for its emptiness) the Air Fund. “We would announce to the world that we had raised one billion dollars for hostile takeovers,” one Drexel executive recalled. “There would be no money in this fund—it was just a threat. The Air Fund stood for our not having a client with deep pockets who could be in a takeover. It was a substitute for that client we didn’t have. “That concept led to our making Carl Icahn real instead of nettlesome. Carl ended up being our Air Fund. Boone ended up being our Air Fund. We manufactured out of thin air—almost thin air—a credible takeover guy.”"