beneficiaries following the death of their mother.
Dudley exchanged looks with his brothers, but each seemed afraid to ask the obvious: What about our legacy, the Wolfe legacy? What about our family name? Dudley looked hard at his grandfather, wondering if he knew about the London Wolfs and if this had anything to do with forever burying the Wolf name and its Jewish origins. But his grandfather didn’t betray a thing and Dudley didn’t ask. He had too much respect for the old man to challenge him.
For his part, B. F. did not mention Dudley Wolfe Senior at all and simply went on to explain that for their trouble they would be rewarded handsomely. Variously estimated at $70 million to $100 million ($1.05 billion to $1.5 billion today), the Smith fortune was rumored to be the largest in all of New England, and certainly one of the largest in the United States at the time.
Not knowing what else to say to their formidable grandfather, Dudley and his brothers agreed. Soon afterward, they stood before a judge in Knox County, Maine, where they swore their name change into effect.
Dudley immediately felt regret at his decision. Later that summer, as he wrote his application to Harvard, he hesitated before signing the letter but finally did so as “Dudley F. Wolfe” and mailed it off to Cambridge. Days later a letter arrived from the admissions office telling him he didn’t have the proper credits for enrollment. Almost relieved, Dudley sent a letter acknowledging his lack of credentials and immediately called the Manter Hall Tutoring School in Harvard Square, where he attended preparatory classes for the next year. But when he reapplied the following summer, it was as if his heart just wasn’t in it. Using many of the same answers to questions such as “What games do you especially like?” and “What is your intended profession?” as he had given in his 1924 application, Dudley wrote, “sailing, hunting and camping,” and “business, most probably” but gave no indication of the man behind the pen.
Meanwhile, he struggled with his agreement to become a Smith. The name felt fraudulent to Dudley and insulting to his father and his newfound family in London. But in deference to B. F., he tried it on. In the summer of 1925 he entered his new single-masted sloop, the Bonita IV , in the Brooklyn Yacht Club’s deep-sea Challenge Cup, as Dudley Wolfe Smith. Besting larger, more powerful boats and some of the sport’s most seasoned sailors, Dudley won the race, an honor that put him among the likes of Jack Dempsey, René Lacoste, and Johnny Weissmuller in the New York Times listing of “Champions of 1925.” It would be the one and only time he used the name Smith in a race. If he were to gain national fame again, he wanted his father’s name in the records. In his next race and every subsequent race, he entered as Dudley F. Wolfe.
Soon after the race, he went to B. F.’s rambling clapboard house on the hill, Clifford Lodge, and asked to have a word. As calmly and evenly as he could, Dudley explained why he wanted to return his legal name to Wolfe—that he felt the change disrespected his late father who also deserved a legacy. Hadn’t he in fact been named for his father, who had evidently shared B. F.’s desire to see his name live on? And if B. F. felt he needed his legal heirs to have the Smith name, Dudley understood; he would make his way in the world either with or without the Smith millions.
The old man sat and listened, impressed by his grandson’s honesty and honor; he knew Dudley could easily have waited until his death to change his name back without any risk to his inheritance. B. F. looked at his grandson and realized he loved the boy who, unlike the two Cliffords, had never been anything but gentle and respectful, eager to excel and now proving to be a genius at the helm. And yes, Dudley Senior also deserved to have his name live on.
When Dudley was finished, B. F. slowly rose out of his chair and