Harry Lubrecht

December 2, 1908 - November 13, 1997

We knew he'd go on forever, with that cheerful smile and an always growing store of tales of the Lubrecht & Cramer, Ltd., books we've come to depend upon at NAMA Forays. So when Harry's son Charley called, I assumed I'd be hearing another story about what Harry and Ann Lubrecht would be bringing home from their latest annual tour of the Frankfurt Book Fair in Germany. Charley's been manager of their bookselling for several years, and we talk quite often.
But this was sad news. News that Harry, while there, had suffered a stroke early one morning, and was enroute home from the care of the excellent German doctors. Just a few days later, November 13, he suffered a second and final stroke, dying peacefully, his family with him.
Harry was one of those people about whom stories are told and retold. He was a one-of-a-kind encyclopedic resource in the antiquarian book field. He'd specialized in scientific topics, turning to botanical books when he realized that no one else in the U.S. was making them available. After many years of working for Stechert-Hafner, Publishers, as a specialist in producing catalogs of their unique holdings, and eventually directing policy as a vice president, he'd become a treasure-house of knowledge about publishing in the scientific field, often called upon as an appraiser for libraries, companies, universities and private collectors. I treasure three publications to which he put his hand: Early American Botanical Works, with a Miscellany of other Botanical Rarities, Stechert-Hafner Catalog 353, 1967, a reprint edition of Mushrooms in their Natural Habitats, by Alexander H. Smith, which Harry was responsible for reprinting, and A Short History of Botany in the United States, edited by Joseph Ewan, Hafner Publishing Company, 1969.
After his retirement in 1967, it was only a couple of years before he began Lubrecht & Cramer, Ltd. as a New York corporation with connections to most of the European booksellers and publishers. Germany's Jorg Cramer and Harry never formed a true company; instead, it was one of those cooperative gentleman's agreements once the basis for many businesses across borders. When Cramer died suddenly, leaving his own business, J. Cramer Verlag, to his 14-year-old daughter, Harry continued Lubrecht & Cramer, Ltd., since Cramer had lent his name in perpetuity, no strings attached.
Many NAMA forays were enhanced by the presence of Harry and Ann Lubrecht. NAMA was rather like a hobby with Harry -- he liked mushroomers. Many NAMA members probably have photos of themselves being divested of their money, proudly walking off with books they'd never have found elsewhere.
Several NAMA members, when told of Harry's death, made touching comments like: "He was an upright man, a friend of books, and a friend of us all. He seemed one of those who would be around forever;" "I only met him once, but he reminded me then of the old-fashioned 'I know my business and I love it' storekeeper;" and one remembered Harry saying something like, "The nice thing about growing older is you become less greedy." All true, all Harry.
Charley told some stories about his father, especially the one on how Harry got his name. His full name was Heinz Deitrich Lubrecht, but the French booksellers simply couldn't pronounce it, so they called him Harry, even in business transactions, and it stuck.
Lubrecht and Cramer, Ltd., will continue. Harry and Charley had that rare privilege, an opportunity to work together as father and son in a business they both loved. Ann always saw to it that Harry got the credit, but we know that it was a shared responsibility between them, getting those books selected, packed, shipped, and out on display for NAMA forayers to see and buy. When we think back on how many times they made those treks, how can we help but be thankful for the Lubrechts in this impersonal big business world.
If you should care to send a memorial, the family has asked that contributions be made to the LuEsther T. Mertz Library, The New York Botanical Garden, 200th St. and Southern Blvd., Bronx, NY 10458, in memory of Harry Lubrecht, of Forestburgh, New York. So fitting that one who was such a specialist on rare books should be remembered this way.
Thank you, Harry Lubrecht, again and again.
Maggie Rogers, Portland OR

reprinted from the Mycophile, Volume 39:1, January/February 1998