ebt by more than $50 billion, from $65 bil- lion following the MediaOne acquisition to $13 billion when the Com- cast merger closed. AT&T's debt would be just one and a half times its earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation, and amortization (EBITDA), a coverage ratio that was on a par with that of the Bell companies and much better than that of the likes of MCI WorldCom and Sprint. All in all, Armstrong saw some risk ahead for AT&T, but some real opportunity, too. However, ever since Dorman had been appointed president in No- vember 2000, the company's rumor mill had him negotiating a merger with BellSouth during weekend golf games. It all seemed SO logical. BellSouth was the only Bell company that had shied away from serial acquisitions. Verizon and SBC were now too big to pass regula- tory muster in a merger with AT&T; Qwest was too sick. Dorman had been brought up in Atlanta and still maintained his principal resi- dence there. BellSouth's CEO, Dwayne Ackerman, would be within a year or two of retiring by the time a deal closed. The rumor mill gra- ciously decided that he could keep his job; Dorman was still young enough, and confident enough, to take his chances on succeeding him. The company would keep the AT&T name, of course, but would make its headquarters in Atlanta. The rumor mill had figured out ev- erything but the size of the bankers' fees. Reimagine Your Company's Mission A September story in Fortune magazine entitled "Say Good-Bye to AT&T" seemed to confirm the rumors. Based on interviews with for- mer executives and industry experts, the article predicted that AT&T would be scooped up by one of the Bell companies as soon as Comcast completed its acquisition of the cable business, which was a foregone conclusion. Armstrong had been interviewed for the piece, and we had primed him to communicate one idea: Thanks to the investments he had made in AT&T's communication services businesses, the com- pany was in control of its own destiny. Armstrong knew how to bridge from the reporter's question 