Chapter 18

1900, June 12, 1995

After dinner on Monday, I got a message from Red.

[Lexi, I just had a light bulb go on over my integrated circuits. If you’re going to attack Exxon on the basis of their denial of the environmental impact of burning oil and gas, why not involve people who have or WILL MAKE similar claims in the future. Guess who I found? The Rockefeller family will be demanding exactly that in the years after 2004. Do you think it worthwhile to approach them at this time, considering that they probably know about the problem some ten years in the ‘past’ – meaning in the current time? The main instigator seems to be the Rockefeller Brothers Foundation. Ralph Sylvester is the current President of the Foundation.]

Not a Rockefeller?

[No. The original founders are elderly men, or they’re dead, and the Foundation has undergone several Presidents since 1968. Most have been closely associated with the Foundation, with the surviving brothers remaining on the Board of Directors.]

I placed a call to the Foundation’s NYC offices. “Hello,” I said to the automated after-hours answering service. “I am Alexis White Owl, and am a large investor in the Exxon Corporation. I know that your Foundation has a significant interest in Exxon. I am having a meeting with the interim CEO of Exxon early next week. I would appreciate a call back ASAP so that we can discuss matters of mutual interest.” I left my contact information.

At 0650, Tuesday, June 13, Dyani, the female Wokita who bonded to Alex, padded into our bedroom and stuck her wet nose in Rock’s ear. You can imagine his surprise, but he dutifully crawled out of bed, and started to take his nekkid self to the back door to let the dogs out. A Rock without clothes, at 0650, could not be called ‘nude’ or even ‘naked’ or wearing ‘his birthday suit.’ No, he was a grumpy ‘nekkid.’

“Why aren’t you waking up Alex?” he asked the dog. Of course, his question, went without answer. The dog just sat at the end of the bed, not going anywhere. “Well, come on!” Rock said.

At 0653, the phone rang. Ring ... Ring ... Ring. It was the private line. It was the number we’d given to the Rockefeller people.

The dog got excited and started barking. She earned a glance from Rock. Bear and I started to wake up. Rock said “Shhhh,” at the dog, and slammed a fist at the phone. As if on command, the handset leaped into Rock’s hand.

“Who’s calling?” he said into the phone.

“Uhm ... I’m returning a call from Alexis White Owl, is she there?” answered a well moderated female voice.

“I know who’s in the room with me. Who is calling? And why are you calling at this hour?” repeated Rock.

“Oh. I’m sorry. This is Davida Rockefeller Wilson, from the Rockefeller Brothers Foundation. I’m returning Ms. White Owl’s call from last night.”

“Right,” said Rock. “Just a minute. She’s not up yet, I’ll get her to the phone.” He hit ‘hold,’ and handed the handset to me.

I squirmed into a sitting position and brought the sheet up to cover my boobies. I wouldn’t Rock to get too interested. “Hello, Ms Wilson,” I got the name from peeking into Rock’s memory. “This is Lexi White Owl.”

“I’m sorry to call you so early. I didn’t know that you weren’t on New York time. But you said you wanted to talk ASAP. So ... here we are. I’m in the Investment Group for the Foundation. Naturally we’re concerned with what’s been happening with Exxon. How big a holding in Exxon do you have?”

“I believe that I have the largest individual investor holding. Something over 120,000 shares. I originally got invested because of the threats to the tankers,” I said. “Then when Exxon did nothing, I felt I wanted to get on the Board to ask some questions. Then the Fortin fiasco hit. I assume you’ve seen the most recent threat from Al Qaeda. Have you seen the latest? An anonymous report coming out of Hong Kong says that Exxon has some internal memoranda to the effect that they have known about the negative impact of burning oil on the environment, worldwide, for over twenty years.”

[Lexi, I’ll start drafting an anonymous leak about the internal memo, right away.]

Wilson said, “Jesus Jumping Christ! That’s would be exactly what we need right now. The price could drop to a buck. That might lead the NYSE to delist the stock – or at least put a hold on transactions.”

“Right,” I said, “we need to get Exxon out in front of this whole situation. Especially if the ‘memo story’ turns out to be true.’

“I have heard,” she said, “that the memo story is in fact, TRUE. We don’t have a hard source, on that, but we have heard from some friends who tell us that they’ve seen some reports to that effect. I’m concerned about the environment. Some of the old school, here at the Foundation, support the management’s story. It might be a ‘tobacco hidden memo’ story all over again ... GOD! This is unbelievable.” She sounded frazzled.

“Well, I want to get a seat on the Board ... more than one if we can manage it. Do you think I can get the Foundation’s support to get on the board to investigate the tanker situation and the Fortin suicide? While I’m poking around, who knows if we might turn up some memos?”

“I think that’s do-able. It certainly isn’t a case of ‘management as usual,’” she conceded. “No, no. That won’t do at all.”

“I already have Mason’s support on this.”

“Well,” she said with a sigh, “We won’t be able to unload our stocks.”