Eight years later, Rosenthal began what has since been frequently described as a brilliant career as a foreign correspondent. According to Times chronicler Gay Talese, the extreme poverty Rosenthal found in India gave the Bronx correspondent a sense of nagging discomfort and guilt about his comparative affluence.

It was then on to Poland for the red-hot reporter. But not for long, as he was expelled from that country in 1959. Rosenthal says now that the Polish Ministry of Foreign Affairs told him they did not challenge the accuracy of his stories, but that he had "written very deeply and in detail about the internal situation...and the Polish government cannot tolerate such reporting."

Rosenthal was consoled by a Pulitzer prize awarded for "excellence in foreign reporting." Writing to his close friend Arthur Gelb, now the Times's assistant managing editor, Rosenthal remarked facetiously about his prize that it was "a little small, but the thought was there."

Next, Rosenthal picked up his trenchcoat and headed for Japan, where he stayed until 1962 when he was brought back to New York to become city editor.

After stints as assistant, then associate, managing editor (when he actually served as untitled managing editor), Rosenthal finally received the official title, Managing Editor. The year was 1969. Rosenthal was 47 years old. By 1976, another promotion would bring Rosenthal to the zenith of his power: complete control over both the Sunday and the daily editions of The New York Times.

During my half hour interview with him, Rosenthal stayed accessible to his staff, never closing the office door. In his office there is a long wooden table surrounded by chairs, where in a daily ritual at 4 p.m., the Times's editors present the news to their boss.

Rosenthal was smiling pleasantly. He looked relaxed and was obviously trying to put his younger visitor at ease, as he launched into one of his favorite topics, the freedom of the press. He perceives the recent gag orders that prohibit the press from reporting on certain trials, or aspects of them, as serious threats to the publication of the truth.

The, turning a critical eye at The Times, he admitted that many articles are too long and sometimes too wordy; but of the thousands of letters written to the Times in the last 13 years, he said, "I never received a complaint that the Times printed too much information. It's always, 'Give me more, not less.' "

Rosenthal acknowledged that The Times, like many other big-city newspapers, has recently had financial difficulties, but he brushed off a recent story in New York magazine that predicted "Bad News in Store for The New York Times." The magazine piece suggested that an almost inevitable slashing of the Time's $31 million editorial budget was in the cards, a cut "which would reduce the paper to a little more than another metropolitan daily living off wire copy for anything happening more than 25 miles from City Hall."

Rosenthal said that in five years people will laugh at the article, adding that "magazines like New York make a living out of predicting disaster."

In fact, The Times has been hurt by New York City's weak economy and high unemployment level, which has caused a large drop in help-wanted ads. In addition, the exodus of readers to the suburbs has caused a drop in circulation.

Between 1970 and 1975, the Time's advertising linage fell from 77 to 69 million lines a day, while average daily circulation declined from 908,500 to 828,000. Pre-tax income dropped from $11 million in 1974 to $4.6 million in 1975.

But first quarter financial reports for 1976 have been encouraging. Advertising held steady in comparison with first quarter figures for the previous year. Pre-tax net income is also up to $1.9 million, compared to $1.2 million in 1975.

The first quarter improvement can be attributed to more aggressive promotion efforts, higher advertising rates and an increase in the price of both the daily and Sunday Times.

Rosenthal maintained that The Times will be around until "after the Statue of Liberty." He said the challenge is "to maintain The New York Times as The New York Times," and not to take such cost-reducing measures as cutting the staff or accepting more ads in place of news.

*

Seven floors above Rosenthal's office is a quiet little room that houses "The Museum of the Printed Word." Enshrined there are newspapers ranging from several printed on Guttenberg's press to The Times's front page proclaiming the first moonwalk. For a moment, the maxim "Today's newspaper will wrap tomorrow's fish" seems less believable.

As I rode down in the elevator I smiled again at what Rosenthal had told me as he greeted me in his office. Right off he mentioned that midnight phone call. He said it had amused him when he had thought about it later on--it remineded him, he said, of his younger days as a U.N. reporter, when he routinely called the Secretary-General at midnight or later. Invariably the Secretary-General's first words were, "Rosenthal, is that you again?"