S. I. Newhouse Jr. and The New Yorker seemed like a mismatch at first.

He was a shy Syracuse University dropout who learned the magazine trade through working at the fashion titles Glamour and Vogue. Little by little, he rose through the ranks at Condé Nast, the glossy magazine company purchased by his father in 1959, and became its chairman in 1975.

The New Yorker was something quite different from the glossies where he had made his name. The high-minded, text-heavy, general-interest weekly often held itself aloof from news cycles and popular culture. Its staff included more than a few strong-willed writers and editors, many of them Ivy League-bred, who took a dim view of media executives. There were moments over the last three decades when they were convinced that Mr. Newhouse did not have their best interests at heart and might even destroy the publication they had pledged themselves to with an almost religious devotion.

The suspicion started with his aggressive $168 million purchase — in cash! — of the magazine in May 1985. When Mr. Newhouse unceremoniously dumped its longtime editor, William Shawn, in 1987, the staff nearly went into revolt. And then, there was the time, in 1992, when he handed the magazine to Tina Brown.

And yet, Mr. Newhouse, who died on Sunday at age 89, ultimately proved to be the man who would preserve The New Yorker and protect it during the most turbulent period in the industry’s history.