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Never heard of Chuck Feeney? Well, that's the way he wants it.

He once owned six luxurious homes from the French Riviera to Mayfair to Park Avenue. These days, he owns none, instead hunkering down in a cramped one-bedroom rental in San Francisco with his second wife, Helga, his former secretary.

He raked in billions selling duty-free cognac, perfume and designer labels. But you won't catch Feeney in a Hermes tie or Gucci loafers. He once met the prime minister of Ireland with his drugstore glasses held together by a paper clip.

Feeney doesn't own a car and prefers buses to taxis. Until he turned 75, he flew coach. Now, making excuses for wobbly knees, he upgrades with frequent flier miles.

Fine dining? "There are restaurants you can go in and pay $100 a person for a meal," he muses. "I get as much satisfaction out of paying $25. I happen to enjoy grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches."

Niall O'Dowd, a friend of Feeney and editor of Irish-America magazine, reflects: "The way he copes with his wealth is to never remove himself from his working-class persona. He keeps grounded by acting like it hasn't happened to him -- like basically he is still the same guy.

Posted by edelfenbein at March 10, 2008 6:52 AM