The Curse of Ayn Rand's Heir

If not for the open casket, Ayn Rand’s funeral might have been confused for a party. On March 8, 1982, hundreds of admirers lined up outside a funeral home on Manhattan’s Upper East Side to pay their respects to the author and philosopher, basking in their shared love for the queen of selfishness. Inside, a phonograph played jovial turn-of-the-century tunes—Rand called it her “tiddlywink music”—at high volume. Colorful bouquets lined the room, including a six-foot-tall floral arrangement in the shape of a dollar sign. Off to the side, perched on a red plush couch, a man in his late 40s named Leonard Peikoff held court. Skinny and energetic, with groomed hair and thick glasses, he looked every bit the tweedy philosophy professor. He greeted well-wishers and answered questions about Rand’s remarkable life and singular philosophy. A visitor unfamiliar with Rand’s personal history might have assumed he was her son. In some ways, he was. Peikoff had attached himself to Rand more than 30 y ... Read full article.