The Many Lives of a Wall Street Angel

Bob Lessin is on a cell-phone. More accurately, Bob Lessin is attached to a cell-phone. Once, when his cell-phone went dead, he summoned an assistant to drive to a nearby outlet to buy a new one -- immediately. While he waited, he felt adrift, alone, helpless. But not now. He's in his dining room, moving like a guard dog in a pen, taking calls in rapid succession, stopping only to catch his breath. He's in the febrile state that salesmen get into when they're hot, when they want to offer you one of those can't-miss, everyone-wins deals -- when they're so hot that you can't help but believe. Lessin is like that most of the time.

Lessin, 43, lives like someone out of an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel. Here, in a posh New Jersey suburb near the George Washington Bridge, he works out of his sprawling Tudor home. Situated on six acres of land, the house is outfitted with a couple of Saabs, a Jaguar, a sport-utility vehicle, 38 telephones, 5 telephone lines, and 7 computers. He recently returned from Deer Valley -- the location of one of his resort homes -- and is tanned from long downhill runs. He wears an Oxford-cloth shirt and a letterman's jacket with "Planet Hollywood IPO" sewn on the spot where a varsity letter would normally go. He's tall and thin, and his right eyelid droops slightly -- a vestige of the massive stroke he suffered four years ago -- the result of a blood disorder -- while he was still in his thirties.

The phone rings every four or five minutes. Lessin was in the New York Times this morning, and people are calling to congratulate him -- because they think congratulations are in order -- on the news: He has resigned from Salomon Smith Barney Inc., where he was vice chairman. The consummate salesman, he tempers his overwhelming confidence with sincere expressions of affection and with gracious self-deprecation. He keeps the calls short. He tries not to put any billionaires on hold. He presses a button to let visitors through the black iron gates located at the end of his driveway. He pours another mug of coffee for his guest. He paces back and forth. He never sits down. He never stops moving.

Lessin has taken the first steps toward bridging the gap between the old economy that is centered on the East Coast and the new economy that is expanding in cyberspace: He is opening new channels to raise venture capital. He is building a network of high-net-worth individuals. He is creating an online investment bank. He believes that these efforts help an economic and social world give birth to itself. Essentially, Lessin has created an incubator for fledgling companies -- and a new model for how to do business.

The model isn't usually quite as simple as this, but this is one way it can work: Lessin (or someone else) gets an idea for a Web-based company; he goes to his virtual Rolodex and recruits a CEO; he orders up a legal search on the brand name; he calls a few wealthy investors; he contracts with someone to launch a Web site; and the business is rolling. With a database that includes some of the biggest names in American business, Lessin can create operational alliances between startups and existing corporations, help the new companies to form partnerships with suppliers and retailers, connect a talented but young CEO with a desperately needed marketing genius on another coast, and do whatever else is needed to help a new company get up to speed. In short, Lessin's vast network of associates and friends enable him to help new companies at any level and in almost any business function.

In physical terms, Lessin's incubation of new venture capital consists of himself, his cell-phone, his two secretaries, and his list of names and phone numbers. In virtual terms, it's based on three large pillars: his formal agreement with a dozen large corporations to serve as a consultant to their boards of directors; his own portfolio of roughly four dozen Internet-based startup ventures (several of which he has created himself); and his chairmanship of Wit Capital, one of the best-known Internet capital-raising firms. Lessin expects that the synergy among these entities will create an original network that links high-risk, cash-hungry, Internet-dependent companies -- the newest elements in the new economy -- with the wealthiest investors from the East Coast's old economy.

If he has his way, that network will also open up IPO investing to the average investor. "We will democratize venture capital," Lessin says. "The way things work now, brokers can't afford to sell a few shares of an IPO to the individual investor. It just doesn't pay enough in commissions. For the first time, the average investor will have a way of getting in on an IPO from the day it goes on the market."

So much vision. So much money. So many connections.

So little time.