A Man Is Finished When He Quits
-The Early Presidency of Richard Milhous Nixon-
Last edited:
A Man Is Finished When He Quits - The Early Presidency of Richard M. Nixon
- Thread starter SargentHawk
- Start date
-
- Tags
- 1960 nixon 1960
A Man Is Finished When He Quits
-The Early Presidency of Richard Milhous Nixon-
Chapter 1: Part 1
*Chapter I*
‘Victory at Sea’
-Tuesday, November 8th, 1960-
A hint of lime and tequila still lingered on the breath of the four men in the car as the white convertible made its return to Los Angeles. Tijuana was truly the last place any of them had expected a candidate for the Presidency of the United States to take them, especially on election day. As the car continued along Route 101, the men inside had fallen into a silence for the past few minutes, the group temporarily exhausted of conversation. Such a silence was not unprecedented given the length of the trip and how little any of the men knew one another. Not one of the three men accompanying him had known Vice President Richard Nixon during the last election, and only James Hughes, whose friends called him ‘Don’, had known him before today and could come close to calling him a friend. Nixon himself looked more uneasy and drained than usual, his wired eyes suggesting that he had gotten little sleep the night before, perhaps even the past few nights. In the front passenger seat and unknowingly sporting a miserable scowl, Nixon dropped his left leg off his right knee as he felt the beginning of numbness radiate throughout his foot. He took the moment of shuffled movement to also adjust his tie which had the tendency, much to his disdain, of getting pushed up and to the side due to his posture while traveling.
“I want to thank all of you for going along with this,” Nixon said, breaking the silence and taking his eyes off the window and out of the trance he had let himself drift into. “It’s become a… tradition… you could say, for me to get as far away from politics and everything else when it comes down to election day. This time, with what’s at stake here and seeing as how drinks aren’t sold on election day, I guess that meant going as far as out of the country for a few hours.”
“Not a problem sir,” Officer James Maher grinned. “After all, it’s not every day you get to go home and tell the wife you had enchiladas for lunch, in Tijuana no less, with the President of the United States." When he received motorcade detail he’d never dreamed of trading the driver’s seat back and forth with the man he had voted for. His personal time traveling with the man only reassuring him about the checked ballot from this morning.
“Vice President,” Nixon quipped. “but, hopefully you’ll be right come January,” a twinge of anxiety creeping in near the end that no one seemed to pick up. “Uh…by the way James, I’ve got one more stop in mind before we get back. Pull off at the exit after next.”
Following a quick affirmation from Maher, Nixon drifted off into another mental haze while the others began another volley of conversation. He simply couldn’t get his mind off the matter at hand. No matter how hard he tried to separate himself, it was always there like the thunderous roaring sound of a train off in the distance he’d listen for as a child in Whittier. Just as he had back then, he wished that for a moment he could be away from his current position and be a passenger on that train heading to an unknown place. It hadn’t been this hard to get through the overnight wait in an un-air-conditioned hotel room when he was awaiting Eisenhower’s choice for him to be his Vice President 8 years ago and even though it had been torturous for him and his entire family, not even the days leading up to the fund speech came close to the turmoil raging within. The only missing variable between then and now was that he had Pat by his side then, and today he had sent her and the girls to have their hair done to keep their minds occupied. For a moment he contemplated if he had in fact made a mistake in leaving his wife and the kids for the day, but deep down he knew that them seeing him like this would hurt Pat and confuse and worry the kids. In their eyes, after all, there wasn’t a single doubt about who was going to win tonight and he didn’t want them exposed to this side of him when he had the ability to avoid just that. He envied them, wished he could share in that confidence that they held in him. For now, he had to keep up appearances and keep the well-worn-in mask on. The car approached their so far undesignated destination as his thoughts trailed on further, but upon seeing the catholic mission coming up he came to and turned around in his seat to look at Hughes and the secret serviceman accompanying them.
“Don…being that you’re from New York and haven’t been there before, I figured you’d like to see the Catholic Shrine at the San Juan Capistrano Mission,” Nixon said, presenting a more than convincing smile. “I couldn’t let you miss an opportunity like this. You being a Catholic and all, it’s only right you get to see the oldest mission in California,” he turned back around while laughing under his breath.
A grin came across Hughes’ face upon the realization that his boss had gone out of the way to provide him with the experience, “Well… thank you sir, I appreciate it. We don’t have to stop though, if it’s an inconvenience we can...”
“No… No, its fine. I won’t mind seeing it myself,” he reassured. “I insist…and besides, the longer we can escape from the press the better. They’ll be crawling all over me for the rest of the night. So, the longer it takes for us to get to the Ambassador Hotel the better,” Nixon quietly chuckled again as the car came to a stop and the men exited the car.
The aged walls of the mission showed most if not every bit of their long lifespan, the arches built from now chipping brick at the entrance resembling those of ancient roman ruins at first glance. The Mission of San Juan Capistrano, despite being as old as the very nation it stood in, was unlikely to ever reach such antiquity however, as the stains of time were already proving to be an overwhelming force. Nevertheless, here it stood today as a castaway, the final detour of an impromptu road trip. The absolute absence of any immediate people and the deafening stillness felt foreign to all the men, and was the first thing they all noticed. The only crowd to speak of being the inhabitants of the nearby graveyard that rested outside the front gates. Without talking much, all four men departed from the car and headed inside, the Vice-President managing to slowly slip away from the others for a moment of lonesomeness.
As Hughes and the others commenced to walking the grounds, reading the plaques and walking through history, Nixon found himself in the chapel, momentarily alone and walking along the rows of pews that were worn from past inhabitants. For the first time in a while he took a deep breath and held it in for several seconds before slowly exhaling and feeling his chest drop, another futile measure intended to calm his nerves. Despite the inheritance of his Quaker faith from his mother, he couldn’t deny the peaceful and somewhat comforting blanket of air he found himself in as he braced his weight on the back of a pew. Checking to see if he was as alone as he thought, he let the façade fade away for just a few seconds and sighed the air from his lungs before taking a seat in one of the middle rows.
“Lives of great men oft remind us,” he quietly recited to himself from memory. In just 13 years he had gone from a navy man to potentially President-elect of the United States by the end of the day. ‘Not too bad for a boy from Yorba Linda,’ he thought to himself. In fact, he had been moving so fast and been so busy moving forward that it wasn’t until moments like this he could truly grasp and appreciate what he was doing and what he had done so far. He knew his mother was proud of him, although she did the best she could to contain herself as the good Quaker she was, and that Pat and the girls were just as proud if not more so. That more than anything should have been enough and he knew that. But underlying that knowledge the blood still boiled with a drive to do more. He slumped down in the pew, this posture always feeling a bit more comfortable than the upright stick of a man everyone insisted he adopt in order to appear more favorable. In a passing second, he thought of his two brothers, dead before their time at the hand of illness, and wondered where they would be today or if he would be here today had Harold and Arthur not been taken so young.
Falling further back into the pew, Nixon rested against the back of the cold wood that almost felt damp on the back of his neck, if only for a moment. “We can make our lives sublime. And departing leave behind us… footprints in the sands of time…,” he concluded quietly.
That poem, by Longfellow, had stuck with him after all these years since when it, written in his grandmother’s handwriting, adorned his bedroom wall along with a portrait of Abraham Lincoln she had given him. Perhaps that was his spur, the fuel, or some other element to this drive he had found himself undertaking, but he wasn’t certain. Just as unsure as to what fueled it, he wasn’t sure if anything he could do would ever be enough to extinguish it. If any feat he could accomplish would make him happy with who he was and not just what he had done.
While he was alone, he took the time to talk to himself, “I wonder whose footprints they’ll be. Mine… or…,” he shuddered at the thought of a potential defeat tonight. There wouldn’t be any more Stevensons, Ike had seen to that in ’56. Running for President was a now or never game from here on out. In his mind, and what was driving the grand majority of his misery, was the fear that the political fight could end tonight. And in that moment Nixon began what many, including the men entering the chapel, would identify as a silent prayer. For the next following moments which blended together and faded too quickly, the group sat in silence and respite in the oldest building in California.
………
“We’re not performing nearly as well as we should be in the negro communities… And Lyndon, well, he’s been of little to no fucking help in the South,” he said out loud to no one in particular. The Kennedy war room in Hyannis Port buzzing like a frenzied hive with the ringing and clicks of the rotary dial phones fighting with the numerous voices of secretaries and staff members. In the center of the room with the commotion all around him, Bobby Kennedy stood with his arms crossed and stared at an electoral map of the United States which in the next several hours would be full of pins of red or blue. “That son of a bitch…”
Tensions for the past two months between him and Lyndon Johnson, Jack’s running mate, rested at feverish levels and neither had spoken to one another since mid-October when Bobby had accused him of sabotaging the campaign. He looked down to the floor and closed his eyes before rubbing the bridge of his nose, the beginning echoes of a migraine making themselves known. He jumped when he felt a hand grab his shoulder.
“You alright Bobby?” asked Kennedy. He could see all of this was getting to his brother, the numbers weren’t looking as good as they’d hoped. Nixon had lived up to his reputation of a stringent campaigner.
“What? Jack… yeah. Yeah, I’m alright,” Bobby responded, moving toward the table in front of him and feeling his brothers hand leave his shoulder. “How was… How was the voting? Good turnout and what not?”
“It looked great, haven’t seen that many people at a polling place in years. We just got back,” Kennedy took a cigar out of his jacket pocket and began to light it. “How uh… how are the reports coming?”
“We aren’t doing worth a damn in some of the negro communities we have people watching,” Bobby croaked. He reached out for a clipboard overflowing with handwritten percentages and notes and held it out for Kennedy to look over. “After King’s father went for Nixon, more or less, we lost a lot of steam in that area. At least that’s what some of those surveys we got back seem to say. But that, to be honest, isn’t the worst of it,” Bobby moved closer to the electoral map and pointed in a circular motion around the American South. “We need Johnson to carry damn near all of this by himself for us. Which… Which I’m not necessarily worried about… or wouldn’t be, if we didn’t still have knives in our backs and our ears on fire.”
Kennedy glanced over the paper without any sincere interest, after all there wasn’t a single thing he could do with it now. After a few seconds of feigned observance, he put the clipboard back on the table where Bobby had it and puffed multiple times on his cigar in quick succession until he felt his mouth full of smoke.
“Come out onto the veranda, get some air?” Kennedy said, his movement toward the door suggesting it was more of a declaration than a proposal.
Bobby looked around the room and across the faces of all the staffers before heading outside, he hated how all of this was making him so heated. When he got to the railing he looked at his brother obviously trying to shift his weight as he held his body against it.
“Is your back giving you trouble again?”
“When isn’t it?” Kennedy tried laughing it off but couldn’t. “The car did a number on me on the way out to vote. All I could do not to wince when I got out of the damn car,” he tapped his cigar against the wooden railing and watched the fragile ashes rain from the balcony. “This thing. Its closer than I thought it would be. We should have never agreed to the debate,” Kennedy took another draw from his cigar. “That’s when the polls tied up and they’ve been that way since,” He finished, letting the smoke drift out with every word. “Dad’s not happy with it, not at all.”
“Of course he’s not. Dad thinks its my fault, blames me for it going the way it has,” Bobby said, his face looking out onto the yard. “He tried giving me another lecture before you and Jackie got back. Talks to me and everyone here like we’re…”
“I know, he does the same to me too. He wishes either of us were Joe,” When the name of his dead brother left his lips he felt a stab of sadness into a wound that still hadn’t healed entirely. “And… If tonight goes to Dick… well, its fair to say that I’ll be dead to him too. Just as dead as Joe… and it’ll be your turn to be the golden child. You know his law as well as I do.”
“Kennedys don’t come in second…,” memories of the oft recited mantra that ended so many conversations with their father coming to mind as Bobby said it.
Kennedy winced at that potential scolding and looked out over the compound and toward the waves of the ocean. He wondered what Dick was doing in preparation for tonight or if he felt any surer about this than he did. Out in the yard Jackie, obviously pregnant, and Ethel were with the kids. They’d always done a great job at keeping them occupied while the world of politics laid siege upon the house.
“If we win this Bobby… I want you to come with me. To be in the Administration,” Kennedy said after a long silent pause.
“Absolutely not. I mean… I’m there if you need an ear Jack. But I don’t want a job because my brother is the President. No,” Bobby snapped back. “I’m going to prove to… to dad that…uh, that I don’t need his backdoor help to be something. You haven’t needed it either. For as much… as he takes the credit you’re your own man and so am I. If you don’t think he’s going to try and try to influence you. Try and push you, you don’t know him very well. He wants one of us President because he wants to be President. He wants his way. And so if I’m to do anything its to stop that right there from happening.”
“Just think about it Bobby, I want someone I can count on. I’m going to need backup when it comes to a lot of things we’ve promised to do. Looking out for Lyndon is on the top of that damn list.”
“Jack I need to get back to the war room, make sure we’re getting the best information for projections,” Bobby turned around and quickly walked back through the doorway and into the house, heated that he’d been threatened by the offer of a position and even more so that Johnson had been brought up. “I never thought Lyndon fucking Johnson should have been your choice to begin with. That’s yours to deal with. I’ve already done what I can with that,” he said as his voice became inaudible through the walls.
Kennedy took another moment to observe the peace of the outdoors before heading back in. He laid the cigar on the railing and waved to Jackie, who knelt down carefully and waved back with Caroline. Caroline would have a brother soon. He smiled, blew a kiss, and went back inside turning his back on the setting sun. Once in the war room he took a seat in one of the wicker chairs that had been brought in from the day room and did his best to position himself to relieve the pain in his back. As he did so one of the campaign secretaries caught his eye and the two shared a longer than passing glance as they had multiple times over the past few days. To some it was painfully obvious.
………
In-between the candidates in California and Massachusetts, Kennedy’s running mate stood in his suite at the Driskill Hotel in Austin, Texas, his wife by his side. He had just torn into a young staff member for bringing him yet another transcribed message from Bobby Kennedy, or as Johnson had recently began referring to him as the ‘little bucktoothed shitheel’. In his opinion this entire election was doomed in favor of Eisenhower’s little pet project the second he watched Joe’s boy take the podium instead of himself. What in the hell had his party been thinking in nominating a young, untested and unqualified puppet for the office, especially when he easily presented the better choice. In Johnson’s eyes there were few people in his party that matched the spoiled recklessness of Kennedy and to make matters even worse, the boy was a catholic. Having his name tied to the prince of Hyannis Port had accomplished nothing up to this point but damaging Johnson’s own credit in his neck of the woods. The good ol’ boys had fallen in line, albeit reluctantly, due to his own efforts; but, Johnson had to admit to himself that he hadn’t done next to a damn thing to help his party’s candidate since the first debate. It was Kennedy’s to lose, and Jack did one hell of a job in doing just that by letting Nixon walk over every one of his statements. Even Johnson had to give Dick credit on how he managed to make it look as if Kennedy subscribed to his way of thinking on every issue. But worst of all was how everyone seemed to like Jack even though he was the most entitled son of a bitch he had ever met. It made his skin crawl and lit a fire under his ass.
“Remind me to get the gun and do Bobby a favor if I ever agree to play second fiddle to anybody ever again,” Johnson spoke with a twinge of regret in his voice while loosening his tie and taking off his jacket. “And Bird…I want you to shoot me yourself if I ever have an honest nice thing to say about a Kennedy.”
Lady Bird, his wife of 26 years, as calculating and savvy as Johnson was stubborn and brash. Behind the scenes the two often fed off the mixture well and anybody who could see the inner mechanizations of their relationship would conclude that Bird kept the fire in Johnson stoked and alive. She couldn’t stand when he brought in suicide as a punchline, it wasn’t something she cared to think about or imagine. In part because it just didn’t fit into her comedic repertoire, but it was mostly due in part to Johnson’s almost tidal relationship with depression. Sitting in a leather chair that was slightly too big for her figure, she finished a glass of water as she watched her husband approach the bed.
“I won’t have to worry about either option,” Lady Bird said as she laughed it off weakly. She sat down her glass that landed with a sharp clink on the table. “Now quit that talk, I don’t want to hear any more of it. I don’t want to hear any more about Kennedy or his kid brother. They haven’t done anything but pin you and us between a rock and a hard place. It’s a damn shame what this party has come to Lyndon. After all you’ve given and sacrificed for the good of the party. The fact is, Kennedy knows he doesn’t have a chance in hell in winning Texas without you on his ticket.”
Her hand wrapped around the handle of the crystal pitcher on the table as she began pouring herself another glass of water.
“Let alone the entire damn south…,” she finished.
“It is…,” Johnson nodded his head in solemn agreement while kicking off both of his shoes at the edge of the bed while letting out a long sigh, sounding almost defeated. “I waited too long. I should have come right out of the gate and said I was running Bird, but I wanted to test the waters. We would have…. Well we wouldn’t be here that’s all I know.”
“If Nixon wins tonight,” Lady Bird started. The words tasting as bitter as bile on liver as they left her mouth. “They’ll be begging for you by the election. It’d be a blessing in disguise really. Come four years there won’t be a single person that’ll have the wind to get in your way. And if they do…”
“Oh, I’m done playing nice… There’s never gonna be another goddamn Kennedy on one of my party’s tickets if I have any say in it. Its time for that family to…”
A rattling ring from the bedside telephone derailed the fluidity and construction of what was bound to be one of Johnson’s most well-constructed blasphemies to date. The intrusion instantaneously brought a grimace to Johnson’s face which grew worse with each repetitious ring. He growled as he walked around the bed to the phone.
“I swear Bird, if this is Bobby fucking Kennedy again…,” Johnson said as he pointed angrily at the phone. He quickly undid his belt buckle and pulled it away before tossing it to the bed and reaching for the phone. “This is Lyndon,” Johnson said calmly, a polar shift to his tone a second prior. Running his hand over his thinning hair with his free hand, he moved to sit on the side of the bed as he waited for a reply.
“Lyndon, its Bobby…”
Johnson roared his head back and rolled his eyes further into the back of his head than he ever had before breathing out of his nose as loudly as he could.
“Bobby, what a pleasant surprise…For what do I owe the pleasure?,” Johnson asked.
“Oh stow it Lyndon… What’s the latest you’re hearing about the returns down there?”
“I wouldn’t know, I’ve been at the Driskill here all day.” Johnson said slowly and with a false innocence. “Sat for a few interviews… shook a few hands. Look, I’m retiring for the evening down here, I’ve done what I can. What I’ve been allowed to do anyways.”
“Jack has asked…”
“Look Bobby, votes are already cast. I’ve heard we’re not doing as well as you would probably like… and that is all at you and your brother’s feet. You botched the game, not me. Despite our… many… issues here, I’ve done nothing but bend over backward for Jack publicly. Texas will go for Jack, its the only reason I’m here after all. We both know that.”
When no other words came, he stretched out his legs and lifted them up to the bed to lay down. He waited for the click on the other end and when it came, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of Bobby Kennedy mad beyond speech, and both brothers left out in the cold. God, that alone would be worth the four years of waiting. He looked out the window and honestly hoped he wouldn’t be Vice President. The plan had been to steer policy through the office of the vice Presidency, but Bobby’s behavior and Jack’s indecisiveness had proven to him that they had little to no interest in his input and only wanted a translator that could speak southron. Living in the shadow of that pompous bastard and his brother truly embodied his worst nightmare. Nevertheless, betraying the party was a step he couldn’t take, and if worse came to worse, he’d take the oath. Daly up in Chicago could still twist Illinois for Kennedy with the cemetery votes, and that might just be enough. He rolled onto his side to face Lady Bird and supported his upper body with his right elbow.
“Now, let’s say this son of a bitch manages to pull off a squeaker and I’m trapped in this damn thing,” Johnson stiffened up as he said it. The thought clearly making him both unhappy and uncomfortable as if he was feeling the formation of an ulcer. “Suppose he wins Bird. Suppose I do become Vice President, what the hell would I do then, they’ve made it pretty clear that they don’t value my opinion?”
“You’ll figure it out Lyndon,” She said in a surprisingly strong matter of fact tone. “You’ve never had a position that you haven’t made work for you and you’ve never left a role less powerful than when you entered it.” The delivery of her answer seemed enough to qualm Johnson’s thoughts on the situation. He rolled onto his back.
“I’m winning either way tonight. John Tower doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell, and I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t rather just stick in the old majority leader spot for another 4 years.
Lady Bird stood from the chair and sat herself onto the bed next to her husband, grabbing his hand in the same motion.
“Either way.”
……...
Roughly an hour and a half after leaving the chapel, the Vice President and his small entourage were mere blocks away from their final destination of the Ambassador Hotel. In the last moments of freedom from the press, Nixon took to autographing his name on several sheets of paper he’d found in the car’s glove compartment. As he did so he started breathing rather heavily as the nerves built up further and further. By this point the crowd outside the hotel, which had only been gathering for the past few hours, was visible and getting closer to the car as they approached the front of the hotel.
“Here James, you might know a few people who’ll appreciate these,” Nixon said as he placed the autographed papers on the dashboard for Maher. “Come tomorrow they might be worth a whole lot more than they are now. Might even be worth a pretty penny.”
“Thank you sir, I’m glad to have voted for you,” Maher responded as the car finally came to a stop.
“No, thank you for the trip,” Nixon reached his hand out to shake hands with the officer before moving toward the car door and pushing it open. He hadn’t even felt the outside air on his face before the press realized who had arrived. A massive smile swept across Nixon’s face as he tried to stare through the blindness caused by the pulsing camera flashes. Turning away from the discomfort, he looked back to the car to see Don and the secret service agent exiting with him. He waved while standing at the car just long enough to make it feel slightly awkward and then began making his way inside. The car pulled away once he hit the lobby door and Nixon was left stranded inside the Ambassador Hotel until most likely tomorrow morning. Not wasting any time, he immediately began heading for whatever privacy he could find on the floor reserved for the campaign.
“Dick! Where have you been?,” Bob Finch exclaimed as he hurried across the lobby to catch up to the Vice-President.
“Tijuana,” Nixon replied sharply. The two now practically locked in step as they made their way across the floor
The response caused Finch, Nixon’s campaign manager, to stop in his tracks before continuing, “Tijua… Alright, well… next time please at least let me know when you’re planning on leaving the country, at the very least.”
“Well hell Bob, it wasn’t really planned out… It was more of a spur of the moment thing,” Nixon said defensively. Finch couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of what he was hearing.
“Besides… I would have rather been anywhere but here,” He looked over his shoulder while pointing to the ground and across the crowded room decorated in expensive art deco furnishings. “Now, hit me with what we know. What are they saying?”
“So far its close. But we expected that,” Both men stopped at the elevator door and Finch pushed the buttons multiple times as if it would cause it to arrive faster. “We’re getting reports that we’re doing very well in the negro communities, no doubt because of the King letter and the debate performance, but….,” Finch drew out the pause as he tried to collect the wording he found best.
“Its still close,” Nixon finished for him. The doors of the elevator opening slowly. The two men were already inside by the time they managed to open fully. “The negro communities won’t do much to help us in the South. Its not like they’re allowed to vote much there anyways. And we can probably right Texas off altogether knowing Lyndon. Just hope we didn’t wait too long by waiting to visit the rest of the states until after the debates.”
Finch just let his boss carry on, he’d heard his analysis of the situation before many times.
“How’s Pat and the girls?”
“If they’re nervous they’re doing a hell of a lot better job hiding it than anyone else here tonight,” Finch complimented. “They went up to the suite once they got back.”
Nixon didn’t say anything necessarily in response, instead simply letting a smile meander across his face as the elevator doors closed and the cabin began its ascent. He still had the girls and they believed in him.
“If you find anything out come and let me know alright? I’ll be back after I see Pat and the girls.” He explained as the cabin came to a stop on the floor.
Once the doors began to open, Nixon shot out of the door in a brisk walk and carried down the hall paying little attention to anyone along his path. The last thing he wanted was to become trapped in some sort of interview or mindless chatter, not tonight, for the last eight years and perhaps the next eight he would have to, but for tonight he wanted it just to himself as much as he could.
He wasn’t entirely through the hotel room door before Tricia and Julie, 14 and 12 respectively, were closing in to give their Daddy a hug. He felt the stress melt away if only for a moment as he basked in their welcome, one only a father’s daughters can offer. With one arm wrapped around each of them, he closed the door and turned around to see Pat, beautiful as ever, looking out of the window and down at the street below. She turned around with a smile, but Nixon could see that she too was a nervous wreck about tonight. Even with her tell-tale wrinkles under her eyes that gave her away every time she was worried, she was just as reassuring as she always was. Nixon felt guilty about how his behaviors surrounding elections often left her on the outside, but he knew that she understood. He truly did believe she was stronger than he ever could be, and he was endlessly thankful for her, even if he hadn’t always done the best at expressing it, a fact Kennedy’s media had done their best to pick apart. Before any words were said she too wrapped her arms around him and hugged her husband she hadn’t seen since voting earlier in the morning.
“Where’d you disappear to anyway?” she asked, a small hint of amusement in her voice draped in nerves as she waited for the answer, “I assumed your mother’s.”
“Well yes, but then we had lunch… in Tijuana,” Nixon replied underplaying the initial absurdity of the fact.
Pat just laughed in response as Tricia and Julie made their way back to the couch they had laid claim to, the television directly in front of them currently showing commercials. It was without a doubt tuned in for the election coverage that would be beginning shortly. He took the opportunity to pull Pat into the adjacent room for a conversation he had been dreading to have.
“You know…” Nixon began with hesitance, as he closed the adjoining door. “There’s a pretty good chance I won’t win this. That…we won’t win. That…”
“No,” Pat cut him off. “You are going to do great. You are going to be great.”
“But if we didn’t do enough, get out enough… I just don’t want you and the girls to be blindsided if tonight doesn’t go our way. All anyone can tell me is how close it is.”
“We are going to be fine no matter what happens. But I will reserve the right to say that I told you so when you take the podium in that ballroom tonight. When you win,” She said while gently poking him in the chest with a slightly stressed but genuine smile. “I had them set up another television for you in the other room. I know how you hate watching with everyone crowding around,” Pat said comfortingly. “We love you, you know?”
“I love you too,” Nixon said as he wrapped his wife in another hug. He didn’t ever want to share a moment like this with the cameras. These moments where some of the only uniquely personal things he had that no one could take away.
“How was your day?” Nixon asked, his head still on his wife’s shoulder.
“Oh, it was fine. We had Tricia and Julie’s hair trimmed and fixed up and shopped to pass the time. They’re excited. I swear, you’d think it was the day before their birthday with how they’ve been carrying about.”
“They didn’t give you too much trouble I hope?”
“None at all, they were on their best behavior. They just can’t wait for their Daddy to be President is all.
“Let’s hope I don’t let them down right?,” Nixon bobbed his head from the left to right. A mannerism he was often guilty of when trying to make a joke in a tense situation.
Nixon wrapped his arm around Pat and led her back into the room with Tricia and Julie. Holding his wife by his side, he was incredibly thankful that his girls would be with him tonight. It would make the overwhelming anxiety bearable, if only barely. A few months ago things had seemed hopeless; tonight, thanks to the hard work from himself and everyone on the campaign, he stood a chance.
‘Victory at Sea’
-Tuesday, November 8th, 1960-
A hint of lime and tequila still lingered on the breath of the four men in the car as the white convertible made its return to Los Angeles. Tijuana was truly the last place any of them had expected a candidate for the Presidency of the United States to take them, especially on election day. As the car continued along Route 101, the men inside had fallen into a silence for the past few minutes, the group temporarily exhausted of conversation. Such a silence was not unprecedented given the length of the trip and how little any of the men knew one another. Not one of the three men accompanying him had known Vice President Richard Nixon during the last election, and only James Hughes, whose friends called him ‘Don’, had known him before today and could come close to calling him a friend. Nixon himself looked more uneasy and drained than usual, his wired eyes suggesting that he had gotten little sleep the night before, perhaps even the past few nights. In the front passenger seat and unknowingly sporting a miserable scowl, Nixon dropped his left leg off his right knee as he felt the beginning of numbness radiate throughout his foot. He took the moment of shuffled movement to also adjust his tie which had the tendency, much to his disdain, of getting pushed up and to the side due to his posture while traveling.
“I want to thank all of you for going along with this,” Nixon said, breaking the silence and taking his eyes off the window and out of the trance he had let himself drift into. “It’s become a… tradition… you could say, for me to get as far away from politics and everything else when it comes down to election day. This time, with what’s at stake here and seeing as how drinks aren’t sold on election day, I guess that meant going as far as out of the country for a few hours.”
“Not a problem sir,” Officer James Maher grinned. “After all, it’s not every day you get to go home and tell the wife you had enchiladas for lunch, in Tijuana no less, with the President of the United States." When he received motorcade detail he’d never dreamed of trading the driver’s seat back and forth with the man he had voted for. His personal time traveling with the man only reassuring him about the checked ballot from this morning.
“Vice President,” Nixon quipped. “but, hopefully you’ll be right come January,” a twinge of anxiety creeping in near the end that no one seemed to pick up. “Uh…by the way James, I’ve got one more stop in mind before we get back. Pull off at the exit after next.”
Following a quick affirmation from Maher, Nixon drifted off into another mental haze while the others began another volley of conversation. He simply couldn’t get his mind off the matter at hand. No matter how hard he tried to separate himself, it was always there like the thunderous roaring sound of a train off in the distance he’d listen for as a child in Whittier. Just as he had back then, he wished that for a moment he could be away from his current position and be a passenger on that train heading to an unknown place. It hadn’t been this hard to get through the overnight wait in an un-air-conditioned hotel room when he was awaiting Eisenhower’s choice for him to be his Vice President 8 years ago and even though it had been torturous for him and his entire family, not even the days leading up to the fund speech came close to the turmoil raging within. The only missing variable between then and now was that he had Pat by his side then, and today he had sent her and the girls to have their hair done to keep their minds occupied. For a moment he contemplated if he had in fact made a mistake in leaving his wife and the kids for the day, but deep down he knew that them seeing him like this would hurt Pat and confuse and worry the kids. In their eyes, after all, there wasn’t a single doubt about who was going to win tonight and he didn’t want them exposed to this side of him when he had the ability to avoid just that. He envied them, wished he could share in that confidence that they held in him. For now, he had to keep up appearances and keep the well-worn-in mask on. The car approached their so far undesignated destination as his thoughts trailed on further, but upon seeing the catholic mission coming up he came to and turned around in his seat to look at Hughes and the secret serviceman accompanying them.
“Don…being that you’re from New York and haven’t been there before, I figured you’d like to see the Catholic Shrine at the San Juan Capistrano Mission,” Nixon said, presenting a more than convincing smile. “I couldn’t let you miss an opportunity like this. You being a Catholic and all, it’s only right you get to see the oldest mission in California,” he turned back around while laughing under his breath.
A grin came across Hughes’ face upon the realization that his boss had gone out of the way to provide him with the experience, “Well… thank you sir, I appreciate it. We don’t have to stop though, if it’s an inconvenience we can...”
“No… No, its fine. I won’t mind seeing it myself,” he reassured. “I insist…and besides, the longer we can escape from the press the better. They’ll be crawling all over me for the rest of the night. So, the longer it takes for us to get to the Ambassador Hotel the better,” Nixon quietly chuckled again as the car came to a stop and the men exited the car.
The aged walls of the mission showed most if not every bit of their long lifespan, the arches built from now chipping brick at the entrance resembling those of ancient roman ruins at first glance. The Mission of San Juan Capistrano, despite being as old as the very nation it stood in, was unlikely to ever reach such antiquity however, as the stains of time were already proving to be an overwhelming force. Nevertheless, here it stood today as a castaway, the final detour of an impromptu road trip. The absolute absence of any immediate people and the deafening stillness felt foreign to all the men, and was the first thing they all noticed. The only crowd to speak of being the inhabitants of the nearby graveyard that rested outside the front gates. Without talking much, all four men departed from the car and headed inside, the Vice-President managing to slowly slip away from the others for a moment of lonesomeness.
As Hughes and the others commenced to walking the grounds, reading the plaques and walking through history, Nixon found himself in the chapel, momentarily alone and walking along the rows of pews that were worn from past inhabitants. For the first time in a while he took a deep breath and held it in for several seconds before slowly exhaling and feeling his chest drop, another futile measure intended to calm his nerves. Despite the inheritance of his Quaker faith from his mother, he couldn’t deny the peaceful and somewhat comforting blanket of air he found himself in as he braced his weight on the back of a pew. Checking to see if he was as alone as he thought, he let the façade fade away for just a few seconds and sighed the air from his lungs before taking a seat in one of the middle rows.
“Lives of great men oft remind us,” he quietly recited to himself from memory. In just 13 years he had gone from a navy man to potentially President-elect of the United States by the end of the day. ‘Not too bad for a boy from Yorba Linda,’ he thought to himself. In fact, he had been moving so fast and been so busy moving forward that it wasn’t until moments like this he could truly grasp and appreciate what he was doing and what he had done so far. He knew his mother was proud of him, although she did the best she could to contain herself as the good Quaker she was, and that Pat and the girls were just as proud if not more so. That more than anything should have been enough and he knew that. But underlying that knowledge the blood still boiled with a drive to do more. He slumped down in the pew, this posture always feeling a bit more comfortable than the upright stick of a man everyone insisted he adopt in order to appear more favorable. In a passing second, he thought of his two brothers, dead before their time at the hand of illness, and wondered where they would be today or if he would be here today had Harold and Arthur not been taken so young.
Falling further back into the pew, Nixon rested against the back of the cold wood that almost felt damp on the back of his neck, if only for a moment. “We can make our lives sublime. And departing leave behind us… footprints in the sands of time…,” he concluded quietly.
That poem, by Longfellow, had stuck with him after all these years since when it, written in his grandmother’s handwriting, adorned his bedroom wall along with a portrait of Abraham Lincoln she had given him. Perhaps that was his spur, the fuel, or some other element to this drive he had found himself undertaking, but he wasn’t certain. Just as unsure as to what fueled it, he wasn’t sure if anything he could do would ever be enough to extinguish it. If any feat he could accomplish would make him happy with who he was and not just what he had done.
While he was alone, he took the time to talk to himself, “I wonder whose footprints they’ll be. Mine… or…,” he shuddered at the thought of a potential defeat tonight. There wouldn’t be any more Stevensons, Ike had seen to that in ’56. Running for President was a now or never game from here on out. In his mind, and what was driving the grand majority of his misery, was the fear that the political fight could end tonight. And in that moment Nixon began what many, including the men entering the chapel, would identify as a silent prayer. For the next following moments which blended together and faded too quickly, the group sat in silence and respite in the oldest building in California.
………
“We’re not performing nearly as well as we should be in the negro communities… And Lyndon, well, he’s been of little to no fucking help in the South,” he said out loud to no one in particular. The Kennedy war room in Hyannis Port buzzing like a frenzied hive with the ringing and clicks of the rotary dial phones fighting with the numerous voices of secretaries and staff members. In the center of the room with the commotion all around him, Bobby Kennedy stood with his arms crossed and stared at an electoral map of the United States which in the next several hours would be full of pins of red or blue. “That son of a bitch…”
Tensions for the past two months between him and Lyndon Johnson, Jack’s running mate, rested at feverish levels and neither had spoken to one another since mid-October when Bobby had accused him of sabotaging the campaign. He looked down to the floor and closed his eyes before rubbing the bridge of his nose, the beginning echoes of a migraine making themselves known. He jumped when he felt a hand grab his shoulder.
“You alright Bobby?” asked Kennedy. He could see all of this was getting to his brother, the numbers weren’t looking as good as they’d hoped. Nixon had lived up to his reputation of a stringent campaigner.
“What? Jack… yeah. Yeah, I’m alright,” Bobby responded, moving toward the table in front of him and feeling his brothers hand leave his shoulder. “How was… How was the voting? Good turnout and what not?”
“It looked great, haven’t seen that many people at a polling place in years. We just got back,” Kennedy took a cigar out of his jacket pocket and began to light it. “How uh… how are the reports coming?”
“We aren’t doing worth a damn in some of the negro communities we have people watching,” Bobby croaked. He reached out for a clipboard overflowing with handwritten percentages and notes and held it out for Kennedy to look over. “After King’s father went for Nixon, more or less, we lost a lot of steam in that area. At least that’s what some of those surveys we got back seem to say. But that, to be honest, isn’t the worst of it,” Bobby moved closer to the electoral map and pointed in a circular motion around the American South. “We need Johnson to carry damn near all of this by himself for us. Which… Which I’m not necessarily worried about… or wouldn’t be, if we didn’t still have knives in our backs and our ears on fire.”
Kennedy glanced over the paper without any sincere interest, after all there wasn’t a single thing he could do with it now. After a few seconds of feigned observance, he put the clipboard back on the table where Bobby had it and puffed multiple times on his cigar in quick succession until he felt his mouth full of smoke.
“Come out onto the veranda, get some air?” Kennedy said, his movement toward the door suggesting it was more of a declaration than a proposal.
Bobby looked around the room and across the faces of all the staffers before heading outside, he hated how all of this was making him so heated. When he got to the railing he looked at his brother obviously trying to shift his weight as he held his body against it.
“Is your back giving you trouble again?”
“When isn’t it?” Kennedy tried laughing it off but couldn’t. “The car did a number on me on the way out to vote. All I could do not to wince when I got out of the damn car,” he tapped his cigar against the wooden railing and watched the fragile ashes rain from the balcony. “This thing. Its closer than I thought it would be. We should have never agreed to the debate,” Kennedy took another draw from his cigar. “That’s when the polls tied up and they’ve been that way since,” He finished, letting the smoke drift out with every word. “Dad’s not happy with it, not at all.”
“Of course he’s not. Dad thinks its my fault, blames me for it going the way it has,” Bobby said, his face looking out onto the yard. “He tried giving me another lecture before you and Jackie got back. Talks to me and everyone here like we’re…”
“I know, he does the same to me too. He wishes either of us were Joe,” When the name of his dead brother left his lips he felt a stab of sadness into a wound that still hadn’t healed entirely. “And… If tonight goes to Dick… well, its fair to say that I’ll be dead to him too. Just as dead as Joe… and it’ll be your turn to be the golden child. You know his law as well as I do.”
“Kennedys don’t come in second…,” memories of the oft recited mantra that ended so many conversations with their father coming to mind as Bobby said it.
Kennedy winced at that potential scolding and looked out over the compound and toward the waves of the ocean. He wondered what Dick was doing in preparation for tonight or if he felt any surer about this than he did. Out in the yard Jackie, obviously pregnant, and Ethel were with the kids. They’d always done a great job at keeping them occupied while the world of politics laid siege upon the house.
“If we win this Bobby… I want you to come with me. To be in the Administration,” Kennedy said after a long silent pause.
“Absolutely not. I mean… I’m there if you need an ear Jack. But I don’t want a job because my brother is the President. No,” Bobby snapped back. “I’m going to prove to… to dad that…uh, that I don’t need his backdoor help to be something. You haven’t needed it either. For as much… as he takes the credit you’re your own man and so am I. If you don’t think he’s going to try and try to influence you. Try and push you, you don’t know him very well. He wants one of us President because he wants to be President. He wants his way. And so if I’m to do anything its to stop that right there from happening.”
“Just think about it Bobby, I want someone I can count on. I’m going to need backup when it comes to a lot of things we’ve promised to do. Looking out for Lyndon is on the top of that damn list.”
“Jack I need to get back to the war room, make sure we’re getting the best information for projections,” Bobby turned around and quickly walked back through the doorway and into the house, heated that he’d been threatened by the offer of a position and even more so that Johnson had been brought up. “I never thought Lyndon fucking Johnson should have been your choice to begin with. That’s yours to deal with. I’ve already done what I can with that,” he said as his voice became inaudible through the walls.
Kennedy took another moment to observe the peace of the outdoors before heading back in. He laid the cigar on the railing and waved to Jackie, who knelt down carefully and waved back with Caroline. Caroline would have a brother soon. He smiled, blew a kiss, and went back inside turning his back on the setting sun. Once in the war room he took a seat in one of the wicker chairs that had been brought in from the day room and did his best to position himself to relieve the pain in his back. As he did so one of the campaign secretaries caught his eye and the two shared a longer than passing glance as they had multiple times over the past few days. To some it was painfully obvious.
………
In-between the candidates in California and Massachusetts, Kennedy’s running mate stood in his suite at the Driskill Hotel in Austin, Texas, his wife by his side. He had just torn into a young staff member for bringing him yet another transcribed message from Bobby Kennedy, or as Johnson had recently began referring to him as the ‘little bucktoothed shitheel’. In his opinion this entire election was doomed in favor of Eisenhower’s little pet project the second he watched Joe’s boy take the podium instead of himself. What in the hell had his party been thinking in nominating a young, untested and unqualified puppet for the office, especially when he easily presented the better choice. In Johnson’s eyes there were few people in his party that matched the spoiled recklessness of Kennedy and to make matters even worse, the boy was a catholic. Having his name tied to the prince of Hyannis Port had accomplished nothing up to this point but damaging Johnson’s own credit in his neck of the woods. The good ol’ boys had fallen in line, albeit reluctantly, due to his own efforts; but, Johnson had to admit to himself that he hadn’t done next to a damn thing to help his party’s candidate since the first debate. It was Kennedy’s to lose, and Jack did one hell of a job in doing just that by letting Nixon walk over every one of his statements. Even Johnson had to give Dick credit on how he managed to make it look as if Kennedy subscribed to his way of thinking on every issue. But worst of all was how everyone seemed to like Jack even though he was the most entitled son of a bitch he had ever met. It made his skin crawl and lit a fire under his ass.
“Remind me to get the gun and do Bobby a favor if I ever agree to play second fiddle to anybody ever again,” Johnson spoke with a twinge of regret in his voice while loosening his tie and taking off his jacket. “And Bird…I want you to shoot me yourself if I ever have an honest nice thing to say about a Kennedy.”
Lady Bird, his wife of 26 years, as calculating and savvy as Johnson was stubborn and brash. Behind the scenes the two often fed off the mixture well and anybody who could see the inner mechanizations of their relationship would conclude that Bird kept the fire in Johnson stoked and alive. She couldn’t stand when he brought in suicide as a punchline, it wasn’t something she cared to think about or imagine. In part because it just didn’t fit into her comedic repertoire, but it was mostly due in part to Johnson’s almost tidal relationship with depression. Sitting in a leather chair that was slightly too big for her figure, she finished a glass of water as she watched her husband approach the bed.
“I won’t have to worry about either option,” Lady Bird said as she laughed it off weakly. She sat down her glass that landed with a sharp clink on the table. “Now quit that talk, I don’t want to hear any more of it. I don’t want to hear any more about Kennedy or his kid brother. They haven’t done anything but pin you and us between a rock and a hard place. It’s a damn shame what this party has come to Lyndon. After all you’ve given and sacrificed for the good of the party. The fact is, Kennedy knows he doesn’t have a chance in hell in winning Texas without you on his ticket.”
Her hand wrapped around the handle of the crystal pitcher on the table as she began pouring herself another glass of water.
“Let alone the entire damn south…,” she finished.
“It is…,” Johnson nodded his head in solemn agreement while kicking off both of his shoes at the edge of the bed while letting out a long sigh, sounding almost defeated. “I waited too long. I should have come right out of the gate and said I was running Bird, but I wanted to test the waters. We would have…. Well we wouldn’t be here that’s all I know.”
“If Nixon wins tonight,” Lady Bird started. The words tasting as bitter as bile on liver as they left her mouth. “They’ll be begging for you by the election. It’d be a blessing in disguise really. Come four years there won’t be a single person that’ll have the wind to get in your way. And if they do…”
“Oh, I’m done playing nice… There’s never gonna be another goddamn Kennedy on one of my party’s tickets if I have any say in it. Its time for that family to…”
A rattling ring from the bedside telephone derailed the fluidity and construction of what was bound to be one of Johnson’s most well-constructed blasphemies to date. The intrusion instantaneously brought a grimace to Johnson’s face which grew worse with each repetitious ring. He growled as he walked around the bed to the phone.
“I swear Bird, if this is Bobby fucking Kennedy again…,” Johnson said as he pointed angrily at the phone. He quickly undid his belt buckle and pulled it away before tossing it to the bed and reaching for the phone. “This is Lyndon,” Johnson said calmly, a polar shift to his tone a second prior. Running his hand over his thinning hair with his free hand, he moved to sit on the side of the bed as he waited for a reply.
“Lyndon, its Bobby…”
Johnson roared his head back and rolled his eyes further into the back of his head than he ever had before breathing out of his nose as loudly as he could.
“Bobby, what a pleasant surprise…For what do I owe the pleasure?,” Johnson asked.
“Oh stow it Lyndon… What’s the latest you’re hearing about the returns down there?”
“I wouldn’t know, I’ve been at the Driskill here all day.” Johnson said slowly and with a false innocence. “Sat for a few interviews… shook a few hands. Look, I’m retiring for the evening down here, I’ve done what I can. What I’ve been allowed to do anyways.”
“Jack has asked…”
“Look Bobby, votes are already cast. I’ve heard we’re not doing as well as you would probably like… and that is all at you and your brother’s feet. You botched the game, not me. Despite our… many… issues here, I’ve done nothing but bend over backward for Jack publicly. Texas will go for Jack, its the only reason I’m here after all. We both know that.”
When no other words came, he stretched out his legs and lifted them up to the bed to lay down. He waited for the click on the other end and when it came, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of Bobby Kennedy mad beyond speech, and both brothers left out in the cold. God, that alone would be worth the four years of waiting. He looked out the window and honestly hoped he wouldn’t be Vice President. The plan had been to steer policy through the office of the vice Presidency, but Bobby’s behavior and Jack’s indecisiveness had proven to him that they had little to no interest in his input and only wanted a translator that could speak southron. Living in the shadow of that pompous bastard and his brother truly embodied his worst nightmare. Nevertheless, betraying the party was a step he couldn’t take, and if worse came to worse, he’d take the oath. Daly up in Chicago could still twist Illinois for Kennedy with the cemetery votes, and that might just be enough. He rolled onto his side to face Lady Bird and supported his upper body with his right elbow.
“Now, let’s say this son of a bitch manages to pull off a squeaker and I’m trapped in this damn thing,” Johnson stiffened up as he said it. The thought clearly making him both unhappy and uncomfortable as if he was feeling the formation of an ulcer. “Suppose he wins Bird. Suppose I do become Vice President, what the hell would I do then, they’ve made it pretty clear that they don’t value my opinion?”
“You’ll figure it out Lyndon,” She said in a surprisingly strong matter of fact tone. “You’ve never had a position that you haven’t made work for you and you’ve never left a role less powerful than when you entered it.” The delivery of her answer seemed enough to qualm Johnson’s thoughts on the situation. He rolled onto his back.
“I’m winning either way tonight. John Tower doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell, and I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t rather just stick in the old majority leader spot for another 4 years.
Lady Bird stood from the chair and sat herself onto the bed next to her husband, grabbing his hand in the same motion.
“Either way.”
……...
Roughly an hour and a half after leaving the chapel, the Vice President and his small entourage were mere blocks away from their final destination of the Ambassador Hotel. In the last moments of freedom from the press, Nixon took to autographing his name on several sheets of paper he’d found in the car’s glove compartment. As he did so he started breathing rather heavily as the nerves built up further and further. By this point the crowd outside the hotel, which had only been gathering for the past few hours, was visible and getting closer to the car as they approached the front of the hotel.
“Here James, you might know a few people who’ll appreciate these,” Nixon said as he placed the autographed papers on the dashboard for Maher. “Come tomorrow they might be worth a whole lot more than they are now. Might even be worth a pretty penny.”
“Thank you sir, I’m glad to have voted for you,” Maher responded as the car finally came to a stop.
“No, thank you for the trip,” Nixon reached his hand out to shake hands with the officer before moving toward the car door and pushing it open. He hadn’t even felt the outside air on his face before the press realized who had arrived. A massive smile swept across Nixon’s face as he tried to stare through the blindness caused by the pulsing camera flashes. Turning away from the discomfort, he looked back to the car to see Don and the secret service agent exiting with him. He waved while standing at the car just long enough to make it feel slightly awkward and then began making his way inside. The car pulled away once he hit the lobby door and Nixon was left stranded inside the Ambassador Hotel until most likely tomorrow morning. Not wasting any time, he immediately began heading for whatever privacy he could find on the floor reserved for the campaign.
“Dick! Where have you been?,” Bob Finch exclaimed as he hurried across the lobby to catch up to the Vice-President.
“Tijuana,” Nixon replied sharply. The two now practically locked in step as they made their way across the floor
The response caused Finch, Nixon’s campaign manager, to stop in his tracks before continuing, “Tijua… Alright, well… next time please at least let me know when you’re planning on leaving the country, at the very least.”
“Well hell Bob, it wasn’t really planned out… It was more of a spur of the moment thing,” Nixon said defensively. Finch couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of what he was hearing.
“Besides… I would have rather been anywhere but here,” He looked over his shoulder while pointing to the ground and across the crowded room decorated in expensive art deco furnishings. “Now, hit me with what we know. What are they saying?”
“So far its close. But we expected that,” Both men stopped at the elevator door and Finch pushed the buttons multiple times as if it would cause it to arrive faster. “We’re getting reports that we’re doing very well in the negro communities, no doubt because of the King letter and the debate performance, but….,” Finch drew out the pause as he tried to collect the wording he found best.
“Its still close,” Nixon finished for him. The doors of the elevator opening slowly. The two men were already inside by the time they managed to open fully. “The negro communities won’t do much to help us in the South. Its not like they’re allowed to vote much there anyways. And we can probably right Texas off altogether knowing Lyndon. Just hope we didn’t wait too long by waiting to visit the rest of the states until after the debates.”
Finch just let his boss carry on, he’d heard his analysis of the situation before many times.
“How’s Pat and the girls?”
“If they’re nervous they’re doing a hell of a lot better job hiding it than anyone else here tonight,” Finch complimented. “They went up to the suite once they got back.”
Nixon didn’t say anything necessarily in response, instead simply letting a smile meander across his face as the elevator doors closed and the cabin began its ascent. He still had the girls and they believed in him.
“If you find anything out come and let me know alright? I’ll be back after I see Pat and the girls.” He explained as the cabin came to a stop on the floor.
Once the doors began to open, Nixon shot out of the door in a brisk walk and carried down the hall paying little attention to anyone along his path. The last thing he wanted was to become trapped in some sort of interview or mindless chatter, not tonight, for the last eight years and perhaps the next eight he would have to, but for tonight he wanted it just to himself as much as he could.
He wasn’t entirely through the hotel room door before Tricia and Julie, 14 and 12 respectively, were closing in to give their Daddy a hug. He felt the stress melt away if only for a moment as he basked in their welcome, one only a father’s daughters can offer. With one arm wrapped around each of them, he closed the door and turned around to see Pat, beautiful as ever, looking out of the window and down at the street below. She turned around with a smile, but Nixon could see that she too was a nervous wreck about tonight. Even with her tell-tale wrinkles under her eyes that gave her away every time she was worried, she was just as reassuring as she always was. Nixon felt guilty about how his behaviors surrounding elections often left her on the outside, but he knew that she understood. He truly did believe she was stronger than he ever could be, and he was endlessly thankful for her, even if he hadn’t always done the best at expressing it, a fact Kennedy’s media had done their best to pick apart. Before any words were said she too wrapped her arms around him and hugged her husband she hadn’t seen since voting earlier in the morning.
“Where’d you disappear to anyway?” she asked, a small hint of amusement in her voice draped in nerves as she waited for the answer, “I assumed your mother’s.”
“Well yes, but then we had lunch… in Tijuana,” Nixon replied underplaying the initial absurdity of the fact.
Pat just laughed in response as Tricia and Julie made their way back to the couch they had laid claim to, the television directly in front of them currently showing commercials. It was without a doubt tuned in for the election coverage that would be beginning shortly. He took the opportunity to pull Pat into the adjacent room for a conversation he had been dreading to have.
“You know…” Nixon began with hesitance, as he closed the adjoining door. “There’s a pretty good chance I won’t win this. That…we won’t win. That…”
“No,” Pat cut him off. “You are going to do great. You are going to be great.”
“But if we didn’t do enough, get out enough… I just don’t want you and the girls to be blindsided if tonight doesn’t go our way. All anyone can tell me is how close it is.”
“We are going to be fine no matter what happens. But I will reserve the right to say that I told you so when you take the podium in that ballroom tonight. When you win,” She said while gently poking him in the chest with a slightly stressed but genuine smile. “I had them set up another television for you in the other room. I know how you hate watching with everyone crowding around,” Pat said comfortingly. “We love you, you know?”
“I love you too,” Nixon said as he wrapped his wife in another hug. He didn’t ever want to share a moment like this with the cameras. These moments where some of the only uniquely personal things he had that no one could take away.
“How was your day?” Nixon asked, his head still on his wife’s shoulder.
“Oh, it was fine. We had Tricia and Julie’s hair trimmed and fixed up and shopped to pass the time. They’re excited. I swear, you’d think it was the day before their birthday with how they’ve been carrying about.”
“They didn’t give you too much trouble I hope?”
“None at all, they were on their best behavior. They just can’t wait for their Daddy to be President is all.
“Let’s hope I don’t let them down right?,” Nixon bobbed his head from the left to right. A mannerism he was often guilty of when trying to make a joke in a tense situation.
Nixon wrapped his arm around Pat and led her back into the room with Tricia and Julie. Holding his wife by his side, he was incredibly thankful that his girls would be with him tonight. It would make the overwhelming anxiety bearable, if only barely. A few months ago things had seemed hopeless; tonight, thanks to the hard work from himself and everyone on the campaign, he stood a chance.
Ohhhhhhhh! So good to see this story back and reduxed! A great introduction into a great upcoming timeline and story. Hope you're feeling better btw, saw the post in the old thread.
Version 3.0 of this timeline is here and I'm loving it!
Watched. It's going to be a very interesting journey.
Watched. It's going to be a very interesting journey.
Hmm, double PoD... Nice!
Chapter 1: Part 2 - The Debate To End All Debates
Chapter 1: Part 2
September 26th, 1960
WBBM-TV studios, Chicago, Illinois
“He looks so much better than last week,” said Edward Rogers, Nixon’s public relation’s adviser. “We must have put nine to ten pounds back on him. Yes. Very good.”
“It’s not too hard when you have Bob here schedule every damn stop at a diner that only serves milkshakes and butter,” replied Nixon. As he spoke he pointed a comically accusative finger in Bob Finch’s direction. “If I never taste chocolate again, I’ll die a happy man Ed.”
The small group of men surrounding the vice President laughed at the comment, all of them having been at the mercy of Nixon’s anger over the forced shoveling of junk food and calories. For a man who was known to strictly adhere to a spartan breakfast, the past few weeks had been a cataclysmic shift in habits. As Nixon shifted around in the makeup chair while facing the mirror, he stared at his own face. Just a week ago his cheeks appeared sunken and the dark rings under his eyes leant to an unflattering sense of stress and grief. The leg wound that landed him in the hospital for nearly a week had almost done him in with a staph infection, no doubt helped by the fact that he always ran himself to death while on the campaign trail. His eyes darted over to Bob who was in the process of reading off of a clipboard listing God knows what. At first he had resented him for forcing the cancellation of the last leg of the campaign tour. Because of that decision he wasn’t able to reach Alaska and several other stops he hoped to barnstorm through, in effect breaking a promise he made to the people. The fear that the unfulfilled promise would be used as a weapon was surprisingly nullified when nothing about the matter had been brought up. He expected it to be brought up tonight in some form or another and he had practiced in the time sense on what exactly his answer would be, as he had with so many other questions. Even this morning he had practiced and read from one of his numerous yellow legal pads filled with notes to the point of forgetting to shave. He had only found the time to get rid of the thicker than average five-o-clock shadow roughly twenty minutes before heading to the studio. At the very least, the shave was far fresher and probably more complete than it would have been if he had done so this morning.
His eyes caught movement in the background as a woman opened the door to the small room and approached the group.
“Is the Vice-President ready for the television makeup?” Frances Arvold asked, wearing a brown dress and brown coat that covered a hound’s-tooth blouse.
“Yes, he is,” answered Rogers, matter-of-factly.
“Now hold up just a minute. I mean, is this…,” Nixon said as he waived his hand toward the makeup organized on the table, looking intently at the assistant through the mirror. “Is this really necessary? I don’t want Kennedy and his cronies to slam me on this like they did with Humphrey in Wisconsin.”
“Mr. Vice-President, I can assure you that Kennedy wears makeup for television. It is more than standard procedure.”
“I understand that, but it is a matter of appearances Ms…?,” Nixon replied.
“Arvold, sir.”
“Ms. Arvold, it is a matter of appearances. It wouldn’t be the first time a Kennedy railed on someone for something they were also doing.”
“Does he need it Ms. Arvold?,” asked Finch, up to this moment he had been lost in the information splayed out on his clipboard. They were estimates on how many would be watching.
“I will put it this way Mr. Vice President,” Arvold said as she focused her gaze onto Nixon in his chair and took a deep breath. “If you do not wear the makeup, you will stand out and not in a good way. Your complexion, while perfectly fine on a normal basis, will not be good for the television cameras and the sets at home. You will look fine for those here in the studio tonight, but across the nation that will not be the case.”
Not responding with words, Nixon crossed his arms across his chest and scowled into the mirror. He weighed his options over the matter. Of whether or not to let her slap pancake powder all over his face. More than anything, he wanted to know what Kennedy had done over in his staging area.
“With the color of the set here tonight… and the color of your suit, I would be willing to bet my life on the fact that your skin tone will almost appear transparent. The President has had a similar issue several times, as does everyone who refuses the makeup. Mr. Vice President, you need to let me apply the makeup; but, I am not going to fight you on it. The decision is yours.”
After several seconds Nixon exhaled what appeared to be most of the breath in his body. He relaxed his shoulders and uncrossed his arms before bringing his right leg off from over his left.
“Go ahead,” He said with an almost somber tone. In his mind he could just see the headlines that the Kennedy media might run with.
Upon receiving the permission, Arvold approached the table and chair with the intention on beginning her work. Although she hadn’t let them in on the information, she had just gone through a nearly identical process with the Senator from Massachusetts. Both sides were terrified of putting a small amount of powder on their face. Internally, she had to admit to herself how comedic it was that grown men would be so wary of a little powder. She couldn’t imagine what they might have done if they were told to put on even a fraction of what she was expected to wear daily. With the pancake powder in hand, she was about to begin the process before Nixon raised his hand.
“Just… go easy on it alright. I don’t want to come off looking like some kind of sissy up there in front of the whole damn country,” Although he meant it entirely seriously, and his voice showed such in its inflection, he quickly tried to cover the nervousness up with a laugh.
“You have nothing to worry about Mr. Vice President,” Arvold said before she started her work.
“You know, it’s not that I’ve never used the stuff before. After all, I recall using it back in ’52 for the fund speech. It wasn’t too bad then. Sure, I thought I looked ridiculous, but the viewers… they didn’t seem to pick up on it,” Nixon said, the experience of having gone through this before eased his mind once the process was underway. If Arvold could be believed, Kennedy would have the powder on as well.
“Not to mention,” Arvold said as she worked, “This will help with any kind of sweating that might come up. The stage lights get hot after a while.”
“No kidding, huh…” Nixon said. “So this might not be so bad. All things considered.”
In just under three minutes, Arvold was finished. She shook Nixon’s hand, wished him luck as she had to Mr. Kennedy, and walked through the same door she had come through. She was gone again as quickly as she appeared, leaving the men in the Republican side of the ring alone again. Nixon removed the paper cloth she had placed over his chest, a measure he had appreciated so that he wouldn’t have to worry about any residue on his jacket. The mentioning of sweating was already drawing his attention to the fact that he was in a suit.
“How much time do we have before we get the ball going on this?,” Nixon asked while checking his watch.
“Roughly… eight minutes. Yeah, just under eight,” Finch replied.
“Mr. Vice President,” Rogers began. “It is important to remember once you are out there that your appearance is going to be nearly as important as what you have to say. But, that doesn’t mean that you need to pull any punches. We’ve worked hard to get away from the hatchet-man reputation they’ve tried to paint on you…”
“I’m aware of the disadvantage,” Nixon shot back. “Like we were talking about, they have each of us sitting while the other talks, as long as I keep my damn back straight it’ll be fine. The people know what the vice President looks like.”
“When it comes to rebuttals, don’t phrase any of the answers as if you agree with him. Make it look like it is him that agrees with you,” Finch piped in, the advice coming to the forefront of his head as he thought of things to say.
“Exactly,” Rogers said. “Remind him, and the people, that you have been the one a heartbeat away from the Presidency for eight years.
“It… might not hurt to mention that for a brief time you actually were the heartbeat while the President was recovering,” Finch finished.
“No. That was a professional duty and nothing more, it’d be wrong to use the President’s health in my favor. We’re not going to do that.” Nixon replied.
“At the very least just keep it in the holster in the event you need it. There’s really no telling what they might ask out there,” Finch said.
“Alright. Alright. Look, we’ve been going over notes for days. We’ve practiced this thing every which way but loose and at this point anything we discuss isn’t going to make a damn bit of difference. If it is all the same with you, I could use the next minute or so to collect myself. That alright?,” Nixon raised his hand and motioned toward the door, as if inviting them to leave.
With nothing more than a few nods, Rogers and Finch collected their coats and papers before exiting the room. They closed the door behind them, leaving Nixon alone with himself and his thoughts for the next few minutes. Nixon let his head fall backward onto his shoulders while he took a deep breath in with his nose. Less than fifteen years ago he was nothing more than a small-town lawyer turned naval man. In that span of time he had progressed and served as a Representative and Senator from California and had made it to the vice Presidency, an accomplishment typically requiring a lifetime in the arena of politics. Now, after eight years of being the President’s hatchet man and foreign dignitary it had come down to tonight. To make matters even more interesting, he was debating someone that he once considered a true friend.
They had entered congress together in the same year as part of the new crowd in Washington and bonded during the numerous shared engagements that resulted from that commonality. Their offices had been across the hall from one another. Hell, Kennedy had even gifted a campaign donation during his senate campaign against Helen Gahagan Douglas. Sure, Jack was now insisting that it was from his father, but he couldn’t see Jack bringing him the money if he hadn’t wanted him to receive it too. Nevertheless, the act of a Democrat donating money to a Republican was as unprecedented then as it was now. Itmeant so much to him back then and it cemented his belief in their friendship, a belief that was strengthened with each letter and kind gesture that followed for a decade.That’s why tonight was the culmination of a long and painful process. Nixon knew more than anyone that politics was not a team sport and that friendships rarely stood a chance in the crossfire; but, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been betrayed.
Thirteen years ago the two had shared a train car while returning to Washington in which neither of them slept much at all. Instead, they discussed politics into the early morning hours. They discussed not what they disagreed with each other on, but all of the opinions and beliefs that they had in common. But ever since Jack had announced his intention to run for President it was like the two had never shared a kind word with one another.In Nixon’s eyes, Kennedy had sacrificed their friendship over the course of the campaign for political expediency. Gone were the days of defending his Republican friend and vice versa. Now, if he did as much as check his watch, the Kennedy camp was doing their best to spin it in a negative light. It was clear to him now that Kennedy would do what it would take to win, even if it meant destroying him. Tonight would be no different; and he was more than ready and willing to do the same.
Nixon raised his head up again and rubbed his injured knee from a few weeks ago, which was still giving him just a little trouble. The advice that they cancel some appearances to make way for it to recover was, he had to admit, probably the right move. Several seconds later he stood up from the chair and righted his tie and suit, which had ridden up slightly over the past hour. He looked at himself in the mirror and shook his head at the sight of the makeup. It wasn’t exactly horrifying, but it was still completely unnatural and uncomfortable to him. He was as ready as he would ever be. With 3 minutes left, he headed for the stage.
Nixon and Kennedy reached the debate stage at roughly the same time as one another, the two shaking hands as they came gathered themselves. Kennedy, at least in Nixon’s mind, having stayed with his staff until the last second going over potential choking points and attack positions. Once on stage Nixon couldn’t help but glare at his old friend, the malice in his eyes hidden behind the smile of a politician. The crew and Howard Smith ran down the format and stage placement for the two candidates. With the seconds creeping by, Nixon found himself drifting into an intense focus on Kennedy, his eyes on his political target. While the normal anxiety was present, he was ready for the debate to end all debates.As the next few minutes passed and he and Kennedy took their seats, they both waited for the lights to adjust and the cameras to focus in.
“Good evening.” Began Howard K. Smith, the moderator of the debate. “The radio and television stations within the United States and their affiliated stations would like to express their pride in presenting the means for a detailed discussion on the issues. The two major candidates need no introduction. Vice President Richard M. Nixon, the Republican Candidate for President and Senator John F. Kennedy, the Democratic Candidate for President. In accordance to the rules agreed upon by the candidates, each shall deliver an eight minute opening statement and an approximately three minute closing statement….”
As Smith continued on, Kennedy began to collect himself in his chair, and in effect drifted slightly out of reception with Smith’s introduction. His heart beating in his chest at a ferocious pace as it always did in the preceding moments before it came time to speak. He glanced over to the Vice President and down toward himself. Quickly checking off the list to ensure his appearance was as orderly and perfect as possible. He came back to the conversation just as Smith reached the end of his introduction.
“And now for the first opening statement by Senator John F. Kennedy.”
“Mr. Smith, Mr. Nixon…” Kennedy began. Still in his seat. Smith quickly motioned toward the standing podium to Kennedy’s right. Before he continued, he stood and approached the nearby podium as he winced internally and wondered why in the hell they had even agreed to the chairs in the first place if they’d be standing while they talked. “President Abraham Lincoln once said that the question was whether this nation could exist half-slave or half-free. That was during the election of 1860. In the election of 1960, the one in which we find ourselves in now. The question is now whether the world can exist half-slave or half-free. The question is if it will proceed in the direction of freedom, or whether it will move toward slavery.
I am one to think that it depends upon what is done within the United States, it depends on the society we build and on the form of strength we hold to. Tonight, we compare our beliefs on what should be done toward domestic issues. However, I am a firm believer in the fact that nothing said here tonight will not involve directly our struggle of survival against the nation of Mr. Khrushchev, who maintains the offensive against our way of life throughout the world. Not only Mr. Khrushchev, but the Chinese Communists now find themselves with ample opportunities to champion the onslaught of Communism within their own country. The kind of country we have here in the United States will form the primary defense of freedom in the world. If we live up to our potential as a great nation and maintain and improve progress, then I believe freedom will be secure in the generations and years ahead. If we fail, freedom fails. Therefore, I think the question facing the American people is: Are we living up to our potential? Are we as strong a force in the world as we should be? Or as strong as we must be to maintain our independence. I am here because I do not believe enough is being done and I am unsatisfied with the progress America has led. This is a great country, but it can be a greater country; I hold that it can be a more powerful country. I'm not satisfied by the fact that our country displayed the lowest economic growth of any major industrialized society in the world last year. Economic growth translates to stability and vitality; it shows that our defenses are being sustained; it means we're able to uphold our word to the world. I'm not satisfied when we have over nine billion dollars worth of food – a good deal of it rotting – while there is hunger throughout the world, and four million Americans rely on food from the government, which translates to five cents a day per American. In West Virginia children take home part of their school lunch in order to feed their families. When that is the case, I believe we are failing in our obligations.
I'm not satisfied when the Soviet Union produces twice as many scientists and engineers as America. I'm unsatisfied when a great number of our teachers are paid less than their occupation deserves, or when children are only provided partial educations. America should have an educational system second to none. When I see men like Jimmy Hoffa free and in charge of the largest union in the country, I am not satisfied. I'm not satisfied when we are systematically failing in the development of our countries natural resources.
I'm not satisfied until every American enjoys his full constitutional rights. I think a Negro baby today should have all the same chances in this country as that of a white. I don’t think the talents of any American should go to waste. I think we can do better. There are those who want to turn all the responsibility over to the government. I could not disagree with that sentiment any more. I want the individuals of this country to live up to their responsibilities. Just as I want the states to meet their responsibilities. But, I do think there is also a national responsibility. The people of the United States individually could not have developed the Tennessee Valley; collectively they have done just that. A cotton farmer in Georgia or a dairy farmer in Wisconsin and Minnesota, cannot protect against the forces of the market place; but working together in effective governmental programs it can be done.
Seventeen million Americans, over the age of sixty-five, who live on an average Social Security check of about seventy-eight dollars a month, cannot sustain themselves individually, but they can sustain themselves through the social security system. I don't believe in big government, but I believe that governmental action can be effective and helpful. And I think that's the only way that the United States is going to maintain its freedom. I think we're going to have to do a better job if we are going to meet the responsibilities which time and events have placed upon us. It is not a job for anyone else. If we as a country fail, then the entire cause of freedom fails with us. I want us to recapture that image of a strong neighbor that Franklin Roosevelt presented for us. I want people in Latin America and Africa and Asia to return their hopeful gaze toward America; to see how we're moving forward; and not to look at Khrushchev, or look at the Chinese Communists. That is the obligation we face as a nation. In 1933, Franklin Roosevelt said in his inaugural that this generation of Americans has a rendezvous with destiny. I think we have that very same rendezvous. The question is: Can freedom be protected while under the most severe attack it has ever faced? I think it can be. And I think it depends upon what we do here. I think it's time America started moving again.
“And now the opening statement by Vice President Richard M. Nixon.”
“Mr. Smith, Senator,” Nixon said with a nod toward each of the men. He had made his way to the podium while Kennedy had returned to his chair. “What Senator Kennedy has said agrees in many ways to the insights and stances that I have presented and provided throughout this campaign. There is no question that the internal affairs of the United States have a tremendous bearing on our international position and how we are viewed in the world. There is no question whatsoever that this nation cannot and should not cease the record progress that we have experienced over the past eight years. The fact of the matter is that we are in a deadly competition, a competition not only with the Communists occupying the Kremlin, but the Communists in Peking as well. Let me be perfectly clear when I say that there is no doubt whatsoever that we are vastly ahead in that competition, as Senator Kennedy, I think, would have to honestly agree. I present the fundamental fact that when you're in a race, the only way to stay ahead is to move ahead and continue positive momentum. Senator Kennedy subscribes completely to that belief, a belief I have championed and led since accepting the great honor to serve as a congressman from California, and one that I have continued to push forward every single day as Vice President.
I fundamentally and wholeheartedly disagree on the implication that is carried in his remarks so far tonight and on the statements that he has made on many occasions over the course of the campaign. Statements seeming to indicate the message that the United States has been standing still. For example, Senator Kennedy has made the statement that our growth in national product last year was the lowest of any industrial nation in the world. Last year, of course, was 1958, and it happened to be a recession year. But when we look at the growth of the Gross National Product this year, a year of recovery, we find that it stands at one of the highest in the world. Six and nine-tenths per cent to be exact.
Looking now to the discussion of how the United States should move ahead and where the United States is currently moving ahead, Let's look at the record. To respond to Senator Kennedy’s implication, Is the United States standing still? Is it at all true that this Administration has been one of retreat, of defeat, or even stagnation? Is it true that, that we have not been moving ahead in any of the fields that he has mentioned? Thankfully, there exists a long record of history in which to compare against. We have the record of the Truman Administration, for instance, an Administration of seven and a half years. Now where does the Truman Administration stand when compared to the seven and a half years of the Eisenhower Administration? When we compare these two records, especially in the areas that Senator Kennedy has discussed tonight, we find the undeniable truth that this country has been moving forward, and fiercely so.
Let's take schools for one. Americans have built more schools in these last seven and a half years than we built in the previous seven and a half, and for that matter in the previous twenty. Let's take hydroelectric power as another example. We have developed more hydroelectric power in these seven and a half years than was developed in any previous administration in American history. When discussing hospitals. We find that more have been built in this Administration than in the previous Administration. The same is true of highways.
We often hear gross national product or the GNP discussed and in that respect may I say that when we compare the growth in this Administration with the eleven percent growth of the previous Administration, this Administration has seen a total growth of nineteen percent. Undeniably, there's been more growth in this Administration than in its predecessor. But let's not leave it there; let's put it in terms of the average family. What has happened to you? Wages have gone up five times as much in the Eisenhower Administration as they did in the Truman Administration. We find that the prices the American citizen pays went up five times as much in the Truman Administration as they have in the Eisenhower Administration.
I would hope Senator Kennedy is aware that the average family income went up fifteen percent in the Eisenhower years as against two per cent in the Truman years. This can in no honest way be seen as a nation standing still. But, good as this record is, may I emphasize that it isn't enough. A record is never something to stand on. It's something to build on. And in building on this record, we have a crystal clear path that we know is the way to progress. Senator Kennedy has suggested that he believes he knows the way. I respect the sincerity in which he makes that suggestion. But on the other hand, when we look at the various programs that he offers, they are nothing new. Upon inspection they appear as nothing but simple retreads of the programs of the Truman Administration. The programs of the Eisenhower Administration, and furthermore of a Nixon Administration, are programs that have and will continue to expand opportunities. Programs that will give all Americans an equal chance for progress in all areas of life.
We will continue moving America forward and further build on the wonderful record that we have made. When we look at these programs, might I suggest that in evaluating them we often have a tendency to say that the test of a program is how much you're spending. In all the areas to which I have referred Senator Kennedy’s proposed programs, he would have the federal government spend more than I would have it spend. I have costed out the cost of the Democratic platform. It runs a minimum of well over thirteen billion dollars a year more than we are presently spending. Now, in all fairness, the Republican platform will cost more too. It will cost a maximum of under five billion dollars a year more than we're presently spending. Now, does this mean that his programs are better than ours?
Not at all. Because it isn't a question of how much the federal government spends; It is a question of which administration does the right thing most effectively. And in our case, I do believe that our programs will stimulate the creative energies of a hundred and eighty million free Americans. I believe the programs that Senator Kennedy advocates will have a tendency to stifle those creative energies, I believe in other words, that his program would lead to the stagnation of progress not its continuation. The final point that I would like to make is this: Senator Kennedy has suggested in his speeches that we lack compassion for the poor, for the old, and the unfortunate. Well, I know what it means to be poor. I know what it means to see people who are unemployed. My father, he was a streetcar motorman, then a farmer, and then he bought a lemon ranch to support his family. If he were here today he would assure you that it was the poorest lemon ranch in California and as it would happen, he sold it before they found oil on it. After the ups and downs and the ins and outs, having lost a child, he became a grocer. He was a great man, because he did his job. I know my father’s story, and it is a story I know shares similarities with the stories of thousands if not hundreds of thousands of families in this country. I know what it is like to be poor, the same, I find myself urged to clarify, cannot be said about Senator Kennedy.
“Senator,” Fleming began. “During his campaign, Vice President Nixon has said that you have displayed naïve beliefs and at times that you’ve acted immature. Most would determine that he has raised the question of your leadership. On this issue, why do you think people should vote for you rather than the Vice President?
“Well, the Vice President and I came to the Congress together in 1946,” Kennedy replied, his voice stuttering midway through the sentence. “We both served in the Labor Committee. I've been there now for fourteen years, the same period of time that he has. The time he has served in government I mean. So given that, our experience in uh - government is comparable. Secondly, I think the question regards the programs that we advocate. I come out of the Democratic Party, which in this century has produced Woodrow Wilson and Franklin Roosevelt and Harry Truman, and which supported and sustained these programs which I've discussed tonight. Mr. Nixon comes out of the Republican Party and he was nominated by it. I think Mr. Nixon is an effective leader of his party. I hope he would grant me the same. The question before us is: which point of view and which party do we want to lead the United States?
“Mr. Nixon, would you like to comment on that statement?”
“I want it to be made unquestionably clear that I did not and do not mean to challenge Senator Kennedy’s intentions or service toward this great country,” Nixon said. “What I do mean to say, and what was meant by statements of the like, is that while it is true that Senator Kennedy has unquestionable experience in the Senate; what Senator Kennedy does not have is the experience that is offered by serving in executive office a heartbeat away from the Presidency. With myself having served seven and a half years as Vice President, I think Senator Kennedy would have to concede that our experience when it comes to executive office is not equal. And I might add, that while Senator Kennedy may be correct in the implication that the issues of party and point of view are ones to be taken seriously, I would have to say that the matters of experience and preparedness are just as important. As Senator Kennedy mentioned earlier, we are standing in the midst of a very trying time. A time that demands an experienced hand to guide the ship and not one learning as they go.”
“The next question from Mr. Novins.” Smith said.
“Mr. Vice President,” Novins said. “Your campaign stresses the value of your eight year experience, and the question arises as to exactly what experience you have gained over these years. Specifically, whether it was as an observer, or as a participant, or even as an initiator of policy and decision-making. Would you please tell us, specifically, what major proposals you have made in the last eight years that have been adopted by the Administration?”
“It would be rather difficult to cover them in the short time we have here tonight. I can however, present the ones that immediately come to mind. In the first instance, each of my foreign trips resulted in recommendations made by myself to the President that have been adopted. For example, following my first trip abroad, I took the strong stance that we increase our exchange programs particularly those for the exchange of leaders in the labor field and in the information field. After my trip to South America, I recommended that an independent lending agency be set up and geared specifically for those nations. I have also submitted a number of other recommendations; for example, after my trip to Hungary I made a number of recommendations regarding the Hungarian refugee situation which were also accepted and adopted. Not only by the President either as some were further enacted into law by the Congress, of which Mister Kennedy and his running mate are a part of. If necessary I can continue, but I believe the President said it best earlier this week. That I have played an integral role in the recommendation of policy and the presenting of in depth advise for the entirety of my time in the office of the Vice Presidency.”
“Senator Kennedy, do you have any comments to make regarding the Vice President’s statement?”
“I have no comment,” Kennedy replied bluntly.
“The next question to Vice President Nixon from Mr. Vanocur,” said Smith.
“Uh - Mr. Vice President,” Vanocur began. “Since the question of executive leadership is a very important campaign issue, I'd like to follow Mr. Novins' question. Now, Republican campaign slogans say it’s experience that counts. A great many of them have that slogan over a picture of yourself. You have campaigned on the notion that you've had more governmental executive decision making experience than your opponent. But, in his news conference on August twenty-fourth, President Eisenhower was asked to give one example of a major idea of yours that he adopted. His reply was, and I'm quoting; ‘If you give me a week I might think of one. I don't remember.’ That was a month ago, Mr. Vice President, and the President hasn't brought it up since. If you can, can you clarify which version is correct, the one put out by Republican campaign leaders and yourself or the one put out by President Eisenhower?”
Nixon’s eye seemed to stab through the air and into the face of Vanocur. Eisenhower’s little quip had already been brought up in spirit tonight and if this was any indication he was going to be hounded by it the entire night. He looked away from Vanocur and over to Smith and then to Kennedy. He smirked in a calculation he hoped would appear as if he was shrugging off the question with little thought.
“Well, Mr. Vanocur, first and foremost, if you know the President or have spent any amount of time with him, you too would be more than certain, as I am, that it was nothing more than a facetious remark. Furthermore, I would also suggest that insofar as this statement is concerned, that he has in fact addressed it. Albeit not directly. Earlier this week, as I have already mentioned tonight, President Eisenhower stated, and I quote, that I ‘played an integral role in the recommendation of policy and the presenting of in depth advise’ for the entirety of my service as the Vice President,” Nixon said, beginning the quote in an almost confrontational tone purposefully calling out Vanocur’s own usage of a quote.
“In addition to the clarification from the President, I can only say this,” Nixon continued. “In my service as Vice President, I have sat in the National Security Council, and countless cabinet meetings. I have met with the legislative leaders and I have met with the President as he debated the great repercussions of important decisions. Such as that with regard to Lebanon, Quemoy and Matsu, among other matters. The President has said himself that he has asked for my advice and I have given it. Sometimes my advice has been taken and of course sometimes it has not. I refuse to say that I made any decisions directly. As the President is the only one that can make decisions, and is the only one that should be able to make such decisions. It is an adviser’s role to give counsel when he asks for it. I have frequently and eagerly served in such a role throughout this Administration.
As far as the discussion on if that is experience that counts; I can only say that my experience is there for the people to consider; as Senator Kennedy's is there for the people to consider. As he pointed out, we came to the Congress in the same year, but it is equally prudent to clarify that his experience has been different from mine. Mine has been in the executive branch, the branch of the Presidency. His has been in the legislative branch. I would say that the people know the difference.”
“The next question to Senator Kennedy from Mr. Novins,” Smith said again.
“Senator Kennedy, in connection with these problems of the future that you speak of, and the programs that you enunciated earlier in your direct talk, you call for expanding some of the welfare programs for schools, for teacher salaries, medical care, and so on and so forth; but you also call for reducing the federal debt. And I'm wondering how you, if you're president in January, would go about footing the bill for all this. Does this mean that you…?”
“I didn't indicate and I did not advocate reducing the federal debt, “Kennedy shot back, interjecting. “I don't believe that you're going to be able to reduce the federal debt very much in nineteen sixty-one, two, or three. I think you have heavy obligations which affect our security, which we're going to have to meet. I've never suggested we should uh - be able to retire the debt substantially, or even at all in nineteen sixty-one or two.”
“Senator, I do believe in one of your speeches…” Novins said, trying to regain the floor.
“No, never.” Kennedy interrupted again.
“…you suggested that reducing the interest rate would help toward…”
“No. No. Not reducing the interest…” Kennedy repeated.
“…a reduction of the Federal debt.” Novins finished.
“What I have talked about…,” Kennedy started. “What I have talked about however, are the kind of programs that are uh - fiscally sound. Medical care for the aged, I would put under social security. The Vice President and I disagree on this. Their program is going to cost six hundred million dollars per year to the government, and six hundred million dollars by the state. The program which I advocated, which failed in the United States Senate, by five votes, would have put medical care for the aged in Social Security. It would have been paid for through the Social Security System and the Social Security tax. Secondly, I support federal aid to education and federal aid for teachers. In my opinion that's a good investment. There is no greater return to an economy or to a society than an educational system first in its class. On the… the development of natural resources, I would pay as you go in the sense that they would be balanced. I believe in the balanced budget. And the only conditions under which I would unbalance the budget would be if there was a grave national emergency or a serious recession. Otherwise, with a steady rate of economic stability I think that we can finance essential programs within a balanced budget, if business remains orderly.
“Mr. Nixon, your comment?” Smith offered.
“Yes,” Nixon picked up. “Senator Kennedy's and the Democratic platform, which did in fact mention cutting the national debt, is not possible. Particularly under the proposals that Senator Kennedy has repeatedly advocated. It would not be possible to cut the national debt or to reduce taxes on Americans. As a matter of fact, all roads indicate that it will be entirely necessary to raise taxes. As far as Senator Kennedy’s one proposal is concerned, to use Social Security to fund medical care for the aged, means raising taxes for those who pay Social Security. He points out that he would make pay-as-you-go the basis for our natural resources development. Where our natural resources development is concerned, you in fact have to pay now and appropriate the money. And while they eventually do pay out, it doesn't mean that the government, and the taxpayer, won’t have to put out the money each year. And so I would say that all of these proposals from Senator Kennedy, will result in one of two things: either he intends to raise taxes or he intends to unbalance the budget. If he unbalances the budget it will result in inflation, and that will be, of course, a very cruel blow to the very people, the older people, we all care about and that he claims to be doing this for. As far as aid for school construction is concerned, I do favor that. In January of this year, Senator Kennedy stated that he favored such an approach rather than aid to teacher salaries. I favor that because I believe that's the best way to aid our schools without running any risk whatsoever of teachers feeling pressured by the federal government on what to teach their children.”
While Smith introduced the next question, both Nixon and Kennedy met each other’s gaze. In Kennedy was a visible ball of fire, fed with the anger that Nixon was holding his own. For Nixon, the nerves that he always attributed to the stage and cameras were fading away ever so slightly as he began to feel in control of the situation.
“Mr. Vice President…,” Warren said, bringing both men back to the discussion. “You just mentioned schools and it was just yesterday, I think, that you asked for an increase in education standards, and this evening you have talked about advances in education. Mr. Vice President, you said… it was back in 1957 I believe… that the current salaries for school teachers were effectively a national disgrace. Higher salaries, you said, were important to the teachers. You stated that the situation as it stood, and as it still stands, could lead to a national disaster. And yet, you refused to break a tie vote in the Senate when doing so would have granted such salary increases to teachers. I wonder if you could explain that, your refusal to vote, sir.
“I'm awfully glad that you asked that particular question,” Nixon responded. “I was able to touch upon it a moment ago, but I am very happy to clarify my point on the subject. I think the reason I voted against having the federal government pay teachers' salaries is that I want our education to be free of federal control. When the federal government is the one paying teachers, whether it be deliberate or not, it will inevitably seek to have the power to set standards and force their views on teachers as to what to teach and when to teach it. I firmly believe, as is evident in other facets in our society and others, that government involvement in the payment of teachers would eventually lead to the government dominance of schools. I think that it would serve as a strongly corrosive and corrupting force on American teachers and to that end would be incredibly dangerous to the fabric of America and our youth.
Let me be perfectly clear when I say that I favor higher salaries for teachers. But, the way that you get higher salaries for teachers is to support school construction. This allows local school districts, within the states, access to means in which to raise teachers' salaries. I should also point out that I believe that local communities and the states should be allowed that responsibility. Teachers' salaries, very fortunately, have gone up fifty percent in the last eight years, over fifteen percent higher than other salaries. Now, I do hold that this should be more. But I do not believe that a massive federal program is the right way to go about it. My objection here is not the cost in dollars. My objection here is the unforgiveable cost in freedom and choice for the American people. Giving the federal government power over the education of our young is a dangerous precedent, and it is a slippery slope we should avoid at any cost, lest we join others who have done just that in the ash heap of history.
“Senator Kennedy's comment?”
“I would clarify that…,” Kennedy said as he cleared his throat. “That I do not believe the federal government should directly pay teachers' salaries. The issue then before the Senate was that the money would be given to the state, who could decide to use it either for salaries or school construction. On that question the Vice President and I disagreed. I voted in favor of that proposal and supported it strongly, because I think that it provided the necessary assistance to our teachers. Mr. Nixon single-handily defeated that proposal. I don't want the federal government paying teachers' salaries directly, I agree with Mr. Nixon on that front. But in my opinion, if the states make the determination as to how to spend said money school independence is protected. My view is that you can do these programs within a balanced budget as long as our economy is moving ahead.
“The next question to Senator Kennedy from Mr. Vanocur.”
“Senator, you've been promising the voters that you'll try and push through bills on medical aid to the aged, a comprehensive minimum hourly wage bill, and federal aid for education,” Said Vanocur in an accusatory tone. “However, in August, which was after the convention with a great many Democrats knowing you could be President after the election, you could not get action on these bills even when you had overwhelming majorities. Especially so in the Senate. With that being the case, how do you feel that you'll be able to get them in January if in fact you are elected?”
“Now, we did pass in the Senate a bill to provide a dollar twenty-five cent minimum wage,” Kennedy began. “It failed because the House did not pass it by eleven votes. And I might say that two-thirds of the Republicans in the House voted against a dollar twenty-five cent minimum wage and a majority of the Democrats were in favor… nearly two-thirds of them… Of course, we were threatened by a veto if the minimum wage was passed as it's extremely difficult with the great power that the president possesses to pass any bill when the president is opposed to it. Secondly, we passed a federal aid to education bill in the Senate; but, it failed to come to the floor of the House of Representatives. It was killed in the Rules Committee. And it is a fact in the August session that the four Republican members joining with two Democrats voted against sending the aid to education bill to the floor of the House. Four Democrats voted for it. Every Republican on the Rules Committee voted against sending that bill. Thirdly, on medical care it is the same fight that's been going on for twenty-five years in Social Security. We wanted to tie it to Social Security and we offered an amendment to do so. The President of the United States, we were informed, also intended to veto that if given the chance as well. In my judgment, a vigorous Democratic president supported by a Democratic majority in the House and Senate can win the support for these programs. But if you send a Republican president and a Democratic majority and the threat of a veto hangs over the Congress, in my judgment you will continue what happened in the August session, inaction.”
“Mr. Nixon, comment?”
“Well obviously my views on the situation are different,” Nixon said. “I would say, that when Senator Kennedy refers to the action of the House Rules Committee, there are eight Democrats on that committee and four Republicans. It would seem to me that it is very difficult to blame four Republicans for eight Democrats' failing to get something through that particular committee. I would say further that to blame the President and the very threat of his veto power for the inability of the Senator and his colleagues to form a cohesive unit misses the mark entirely. When the president exercises his veto power, a bill must have reached him to begin with and he has to have the people behind him, let alone a third of the Congress. Because let's consider it. If the majority of the members of the Congress felt that these particular proposals were good solutions, the majority of those who were Democrats, why couldn’t they pass them to begin with? The reason why these particular bills in these various fields were not passed was not because President Eisenhower was against them; it was because the people were against them. Fair and simple. I am convinced that the alternate proposals that I have, that the Republicans have, in the field of health, education, in welfare, and so on and so forth will be much better received and much easier to pass. Because they are not as extreme, not as over corrective and they will solve the issues without too great a cost in dollars or in the freedom of the people.”
“Mr. Warren's question for Senator Kennedy,” Smith said.
“Senator Kennedy, on another subject, Communism is so often described as an ideology that exists in places other than the United States,” Warren said. “Let me ask you, sir: how serious do you find Communist subversive activities within the United States today in relation to the national security?”
“Well, I think they're serious,” Kennedy said quickly. “I think it's a matter that America should continue to dedicate a great deal of attention to. We should uphold the laws of the United States to protect us from those who would destroy us from within. We should be ever vigilant and alert. If the United States maintains its strength, I think that we can meet any threat, but the major threat in my opinion are external in origin.”
“Mr. Nixon, comment?”
“The threat of Communism within the United States is something that we have combated for years,” Nixon said. “It is a real threat and it is one that will continue to be a problem for the foreseeable future. We have to remember that the cold war that Soviet Premier Khrushchev is waging, is a cold war that permeates through all corners of the world and that includes right here. In the United States. That's why we have to remain vigilant against the unceasing threat of Communism. It is also imperative that in countering these threats that we uphold the standards of conduct we have to come to expect from the United States. And, in this connection, we fight Communism at home not only through laws meant to fend off Communists but we also fight Communism at home by working to end any and all injustices that exist in our society. I firmly believe that the ideas and programs proposed by me and my party’s platform will serve to do away with such injustice and better the lives of all Americans. Simply put, Mr. Warren, we fight communism at home by strengthening and emboldening the home. We fight communism by continuing the march toward progress that has been underway these past eight years.”
“Thank you very much, gentlemen,” Smith said, as he brought the night’s discussion to an end. “This hour has gone by all too quickly. Thank you very much for permitting us to present the next president of the United States on this unique program. I've been asked by the candidates to thank the American networks and the affiliated stations for providing the time and facilities for this joint appearance…”
For the past hour, Rogers and Robert Kennedy had remained virtually shoulder to shoulder in silence as they watched their respective candidates face off against one another from the control room. Kennedy, visibly unsatisfied, sported red marks on his face from where he had rubbed his index finger across the underside of his lower lip. It markedly telegraphed his concern and deep thought surrounding what was playing out before him. He rubbed his eyes with both hands before taking a deep breath and letting out a quiet sigh. Jack had failed to score any major points and Nixon had more than held his own. This was not how this night was supposed to go and as the final statements from the two candidates drew to a close, Bobby could feel the opportunities this night contained slipping out of their grasp and into the hands of the man standing next to him. Rogers, smirking as he saw the displeasure consume Bobby, couldn’t help himself.
“How do you think Dick looked?,” Rogers asked with the tone of someone knowingly driving a rusted nail under his victim’s skin.
“Go fuck yourself Ted,” Bobby shot back.
With Rogers’ smile sweeping across his face, Bobby left the room before another word was exchanged; a cloud of anxiety and anger billowing behind him down the hallway as he brushed past assistants and studio crew members. Back in the control room, Rogers was internally jumping with joy as he watched the candidates leave the set. Kennedy, doing his best to wear a smile was clearly a completely different man from just an hour ago. He looked tired, and perhaps disappointed. Nixon waived to the interviewers, his hand staying in the air as he turned around and headed back into the hallway.
===================================================================
1. I wouldn't expect this timeline to consistenly drive this deep into a single moment, and I apologize if some find this section far too wordy. But I felt with this moment being one of our primary POD's, it was necessary to spend our time here.
2. I utilized the OTL transcript in the writing of this section, while there are multiple areas where it differs, it does follow it quite closely if not word for word in some areas.
September 26th, 1960
WBBM-TV studios, Chicago, Illinois
“He looks so much better than last week,” said Edward Rogers, Nixon’s public relation’s adviser. “We must have put nine to ten pounds back on him. Yes. Very good.”
“It’s not too hard when you have Bob here schedule every damn stop at a diner that only serves milkshakes and butter,” replied Nixon. As he spoke he pointed a comically accusative finger in Bob Finch’s direction. “If I never taste chocolate again, I’ll die a happy man Ed.”
The small group of men surrounding the vice President laughed at the comment, all of them having been at the mercy of Nixon’s anger over the forced shoveling of junk food and calories. For a man who was known to strictly adhere to a spartan breakfast, the past few weeks had been a cataclysmic shift in habits. As Nixon shifted around in the makeup chair while facing the mirror, he stared at his own face. Just a week ago his cheeks appeared sunken and the dark rings under his eyes leant to an unflattering sense of stress and grief. The leg wound that landed him in the hospital for nearly a week had almost done him in with a staph infection, no doubt helped by the fact that he always ran himself to death while on the campaign trail. His eyes darted over to Bob who was in the process of reading off of a clipboard listing God knows what. At first he had resented him for forcing the cancellation of the last leg of the campaign tour. Because of that decision he wasn’t able to reach Alaska and several other stops he hoped to barnstorm through, in effect breaking a promise he made to the people. The fear that the unfulfilled promise would be used as a weapon was surprisingly nullified when nothing about the matter had been brought up. He expected it to be brought up tonight in some form or another and he had practiced in the time sense on what exactly his answer would be, as he had with so many other questions. Even this morning he had practiced and read from one of his numerous yellow legal pads filled with notes to the point of forgetting to shave. He had only found the time to get rid of the thicker than average five-o-clock shadow roughly twenty minutes before heading to the studio. At the very least, the shave was far fresher and probably more complete than it would have been if he had done so this morning.
His eyes caught movement in the background as a woman opened the door to the small room and approached the group.
“Is the Vice-President ready for the television makeup?” Frances Arvold asked, wearing a brown dress and brown coat that covered a hound’s-tooth blouse.
“Yes, he is,” answered Rogers, matter-of-factly.
“Now hold up just a minute. I mean, is this…,” Nixon said as he waived his hand toward the makeup organized on the table, looking intently at the assistant through the mirror. “Is this really necessary? I don’t want Kennedy and his cronies to slam me on this like they did with Humphrey in Wisconsin.”
“Mr. Vice-President, I can assure you that Kennedy wears makeup for television. It is more than standard procedure.”
“I understand that, but it is a matter of appearances Ms…?,” Nixon replied.
“Arvold, sir.”
“Ms. Arvold, it is a matter of appearances. It wouldn’t be the first time a Kennedy railed on someone for something they were also doing.”
“Does he need it Ms. Arvold?,” asked Finch, up to this moment he had been lost in the information splayed out on his clipboard. They were estimates on how many would be watching.
“I will put it this way Mr. Vice President,” Arvold said as she focused her gaze onto Nixon in his chair and took a deep breath. “If you do not wear the makeup, you will stand out and not in a good way. Your complexion, while perfectly fine on a normal basis, will not be good for the television cameras and the sets at home. You will look fine for those here in the studio tonight, but across the nation that will not be the case.”
Not responding with words, Nixon crossed his arms across his chest and scowled into the mirror. He weighed his options over the matter. Of whether or not to let her slap pancake powder all over his face. More than anything, he wanted to know what Kennedy had done over in his staging area.
“With the color of the set here tonight… and the color of your suit, I would be willing to bet my life on the fact that your skin tone will almost appear transparent. The President has had a similar issue several times, as does everyone who refuses the makeup. Mr. Vice President, you need to let me apply the makeup; but, I am not going to fight you on it. The decision is yours.”
After several seconds Nixon exhaled what appeared to be most of the breath in his body. He relaxed his shoulders and uncrossed his arms before bringing his right leg off from over his left.
“Go ahead,” He said with an almost somber tone. In his mind he could just see the headlines that the Kennedy media might run with.
Upon receiving the permission, Arvold approached the table and chair with the intention on beginning her work. Although she hadn’t let them in on the information, she had just gone through a nearly identical process with the Senator from Massachusetts. Both sides were terrified of putting a small amount of powder on their face. Internally, she had to admit to herself how comedic it was that grown men would be so wary of a little powder. She couldn’t imagine what they might have done if they were told to put on even a fraction of what she was expected to wear daily. With the pancake powder in hand, she was about to begin the process before Nixon raised his hand.
“Just… go easy on it alright. I don’t want to come off looking like some kind of sissy up there in front of the whole damn country,” Although he meant it entirely seriously, and his voice showed such in its inflection, he quickly tried to cover the nervousness up with a laugh.
“You have nothing to worry about Mr. Vice President,” Arvold said before she started her work.
“You know, it’s not that I’ve never used the stuff before. After all, I recall using it back in ’52 for the fund speech. It wasn’t too bad then. Sure, I thought I looked ridiculous, but the viewers… they didn’t seem to pick up on it,” Nixon said, the experience of having gone through this before eased his mind once the process was underway. If Arvold could be believed, Kennedy would have the powder on as well.
“Not to mention,” Arvold said as she worked, “This will help with any kind of sweating that might come up. The stage lights get hot after a while.”
“No kidding, huh…” Nixon said. “So this might not be so bad. All things considered.”
In just under three minutes, Arvold was finished. She shook Nixon’s hand, wished him luck as she had to Mr. Kennedy, and walked through the same door she had come through. She was gone again as quickly as she appeared, leaving the men in the Republican side of the ring alone again. Nixon removed the paper cloth she had placed over his chest, a measure he had appreciated so that he wouldn’t have to worry about any residue on his jacket. The mentioning of sweating was already drawing his attention to the fact that he was in a suit.
“How much time do we have before we get the ball going on this?,” Nixon asked while checking his watch.
“Roughly… eight minutes. Yeah, just under eight,” Finch replied.
“Mr. Vice President,” Rogers began. “It is important to remember once you are out there that your appearance is going to be nearly as important as what you have to say. But, that doesn’t mean that you need to pull any punches. We’ve worked hard to get away from the hatchet-man reputation they’ve tried to paint on you…”
“I’m aware of the disadvantage,” Nixon shot back. “Like we were talking about, they have each of us sitting while the other talks, as long as I keep my damn back straight it’ll be fine. The people know what the vice President looks like.”
“When it comes to rebuttals, don’t phrase any of the answers as if you agree with him. Make it look like it is him that agrees with you,” Finch piped in, the advice coming to the forefront of his head as he thought of things to say.
“Exactly,” Rogers said. “Remind him, and the people, that you have been the one a heartbeat away from the Presidency for eight years.
“It… might not hurt to mention that for a brief time you actually were the heartbeat while the President was recovering,” Finch finished.
“No. That was a professional duty and nothing more, it’d be wrong to use the President’s health in my favor. We’re not going to do that.” Nixon replied.
“At the very least just keep it in the holster in the event you need it. There’s really no telling what they might ask out there,” Finch said.
“Alright. Alright. Look, we’ve been going over notes for days. We’ve practiced this thing every which way but loose and at this point anything we discuss isn’t going to make a damn bit of difference. If it is all the same with you, I could use the next minute or so to collect myself. That alright?,” Nixon raised his hand and motioned toward the door, as if inviting them to leave.
With nothing more than a few nods, Rogers and Finch collected their coats and papers before exiting the room. They closed the door behind them, leaving Nixon alone with himself and his thoughts for the next few minutes. Nixon let his head fall backward onto his shoulders while he took a deep breath in with his nose. Less than fifteen years ago he was nothing more than a small-town lawyer turned naval man. In that span of time he had progressed and served as a Representative and Senator from California and had made it to the vice Presidency, an accomplishment typically requiring a lifetime in the arena of politics. Now, after eight years of being the President’s hatchet man and foreign dignitary it had come down to tonight. To make matters even more interesting, he was debating someone that he once considered a true friend.
They had entered congress together in the same year as part of the new crowd in Washington and bonded during the numerous shared engagements that resulted from that commonality. Their offices had been across the hall from one another. Hell, Kennedy had even gifted a campaign donation during his senate campaign against Helen Gahagan Douglas. Sure, Jack was now insisting that it was from his father, but he couldn’t see Jack bringing him the money if he hadn’t wanted him to receive it too. Nevertheless, the act of a Democrat donating money to a Republican was as unprecedented then as it was now. Itmeant so much to him back then and it cemented his belief in their friendship, a belief that was strengthened with each letter and kind gesture that followed for a decade.That’s why tonight was the culmination of a long and painful process. Nixon knew more than anyone that politics was not a team sport and that friendships rarely stood a chance in the crossfire; but, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been betrayed.
Thirteen years ago the two had shared a train car while returning to Washington in which neither of them slept much at all. Instead, they discussed politics into the early morning hours. They discussed not what they disagreed with each other on, but all of the opinions and beliefs that they had in common. But ever since Jack had announced his intention to run for President it was like the two had never shared a kind word with one another.In Nixon’s eyes, Kennedy had sacrificed their friendship over the course of the campaign for political expediency. Gone were the days of defending his Republican friend and vice versa. Now, if he did as much as check his watch, the Kennedy camp was doing their best to spin it in a negative light. It was clear to him now that Kennedy would do what it would take to win, even if it meant destroying him. Tonight would be no different; and he was more than ready and willing to do the same.
Nixon raised his head up again and rubbed his injured knee from a few weeks ago, which was still giving him just a little trouble. The advice that they cancel some appearances to make way for it to recover was, he had to admit, probably the right move. Several seconds later he stood up from the chair and righted his tie and suit, which had ridden up slightly over the past hour. He looked at himself in the mirror and shook his head at the sight of the makeup. It wasn’t exactly horrifying, but it was still completely unnatural and uncomfortable to him. He was as ready as he would ever be. With 3 minutes left, he headed for the stage.
Nixon and Kennedy reached the debate stage at roughly the same time as one another, the two shaking hands as they came gathered themselves. Kennedy, at least in Nixon’s mind, having stayed with his staff until the last second going over potential choking points and attack positions. Once on stage Nixon couldn’t help but glare at his old friend, the malice in his eyes hidden behind the smile of a politician. The crew and Howard Smith ran down the format and stage placement for the two candidates. With the seconds creeping by, Nixon found himself drifting into an intense focus on Kennedy, his eyes on his political target. While the normal anxiety was present, he was ready for the debate to end all debates.As the next few minutes passed and he and Kennedy took their seats, they both waited for the lights to adjust and the cameras to focus in.
“Good evening.” Began Howard K. Smith, the moderator of the debate. “The radio and television stations within the United States and their affiliated stations would like to express their pride in presenting the means for a detailed discussion on the issues. The two major candidates need no introduction. Vice President Richard M. Nixon, the Republican Candidate for President and Senator John F. Kennedy, the Democratic Candidate for President. In accordance to the rules agreed upon by the candidates, each shall deliver an eight minute opening statement and an approximately three minute closing statement….”
As Smith continued on, Kennedy began to collect himself in his chair, and in effect drifted slightly out of reception with Smith’s introduction. His heart beating in his chest at a ferocious pace as it always did in the preceding moments before it came time to speak. He glanced over to the Vice President and down toward himself. Quickly checking off the list to ensure his appearance was as orderly and perfect as possible. He came back to the conversation just as Smith reached the end of his introduction.
“And now for the first opening statement by Senator John F. Kennedy.”
“Mr. Smith, Mr. Nixon…” Kennedy began. Still in his seat. Smith quickly motioned toward the standing podium to Kennedy’s right. Before he continued, he stood and approached the nearby podium as he winced internally and wondered why in the hell they had even agreed to the chairs in the first place if they’d be standing while they talked. “President Abraham Lincoln once said that the question was whether this nation could exist half-slave or half-free. That was during the election of 1860. In the election of 1960, the one in which we find ourselves in now. The question is now whether the world can exist half-slave or half-free. The question is if it will proceed in the direction of freedom, or whether it will move toward slavery.
I am one to think that it depends upon what is done within the United States, it depends on the society we build and on the form of strength we hold to. Tonight, we compare our beliefs on what should be done toward domestic issues. However, I am a firm believer in the fact that nothing said here tonight will not involve directly our struggle of survival against the nation of Mr. Khrushchev, who maintains the offensive against our way of life throughout the world. Not only Mr. Khrushchev, but the Chinese Communists now find themselves with ample opportunities to champion the onslaught of Communism within their own country. The kind of country we have here in the United States will form the primary defense of freedom in the world. If we live up to our potential as a great nation and maintain and improve progress, then I believe freedom will be secure in the generations and years ahead. If we fail, freedom fails. Therefore, I think the question facing the American people is: Are we living up to our potential? Are we as strong a force in the world as we should be? Or as strong as we must be to maintain our independence. I am here because I do not believe enough is being done and I am unsatisfied with the progress America has led. This is a great country, but it can be a greater country; I hold that it can be a more powerful country. I'm not satisfied by the fact that our country displayed the lowest economic growth of any major industrialized society in the world last year. Economic growth translates to stability and vitality; it shows that our defenses are being sustained; it means we're able to uphold our word to the world. I'm not satisfied when we have over nine billion dollars worth of food – a good deal of it rotting – while there is hunger throughout the world, and four million Americans rely on food from the government, which translates to five cents a day per American. In West Virginia children take home part of their school lunch in order to feed their families. When that is the case, I believe we are failing in our obligations.
I'm not satisfied when the Soviet Union produces twice as many scientists and engineers as America. I'm unsatisfied when a great number of our teachers are paid less than their occupation deserves, or when children are only provided partial educations. America should have an educational system second to none. When I see men like Jimmy Hoffa free and in charge of the largest union in the country, I am not satisfied. I'm not satisfied when we are systematically failing in the development of our countries natural resources.
I'm not satisfied until every American enjoys his full constitutional rights. I think a Negro baby today should have all the same chances in this country as that of a white. I don’t think the talents of any American should go to waste. I think we can do better. There are those who want to turn all the responsibility over to the government. I could not disagree with that sentiment any more. I want the individuals of this country to live up to their responsibilities. Just as I want the states to meet their responsibilities. But, I do think there is also a national responsibility. The people of the United States individually could not have developed the Tennessee Valley; collectively they have done just that. A cotton farmer in Georgia or a dairy farmer in Wisconsin and Minnesota, cannot protect against the forces of the market place; but working together in effective governmental programs it can be done.
Seventeen million Americans, over the age of sixty-five, who live on an average Social Security check of about seventy-eight dollars a month, cannot sustain themselves individually, but they can sustain themselves through the social security system. I don't believe in big government, but I believe that governmental action can be effective and helpful. And I think that's the only way that the United States is going to maintain its freedom. I think we're going to have to do a better job if we are going to meet the responsibilities which time and events have placed upon us. It is not a job for anyone else. If we as a country fail, then the entire cause of freedom fails with us. I want us to recapture that image of a strong neighbor that Franklin Roosevelt presented for us. I want people in Latin America and Africa and Asia to return their hopeful gaze toward America; to see how we're moving forward; and not to look at Khrushchev, or look at the Chinese Communists. That is the obligation we face as a nation. In 1933, Franklin Roosevelt said in his inaugural that this generation of Americans has a rendezvous with destiny. I think we have that very same rendezvous. The question is: Can freedom be protected while under the most severe attack it has ever faced? I think it can be. And I think it depends upon what we do here. I think it's time America started moving again.
“And now the opening statement by Vice President Richard M. Nixon.”
“Mr. Smith, Senator,” Nixon said with a nod toward each of the men. He had made his way to the podium while Kennedy had returned to his chair. “What Senator Kennedy has said agrees in many ways to the insights and stances that I have presented and provided throughout this campaign. There is no question that the internal affairs of the United States have a tremendous bearing on our international position and how we are viewed in the world. There is no question whatsoever that this nation cannot and should not cease the record progress that we have experienced over the past eight years. The fact of the matter is that we are in a deadly competition, a competition not only with the Communists occupying the Kremlin, but the Communists in Peking as well. Let me be perfectly clear when I say that there is no doubt whatsoever that we are vastly ahead in that competition, as Senator Kennedy, I think, would have to honestly agree. I present the fundamental fact that when you're in a race, the only way to stay ahead is to move ahead and continue positive momentum. Senator Kennedy subscribes completely to that belief, a belief I have championed and led since accepting the great honor to serve as a congressman from California, and one that I have continued to push forward every single day as Vice President.
I fundamentally and wholeheartedly disagree on the implication that is carried in his remarks so far tonight and on the statements that he has made on many occasions over the course of the campaign. Statements seeming to indicate the message that the United States has been standing still. For example, Senator Kennedy has made the statement that our growth in national product last year was the lowest of any industrial nation in the world. Last year, of course, was 1958, and it happened to be a recession year. But when we look at the growth of the Gross National Product this year, a year of recovery, we find that it stands at one of the highest in the world. Six and nine-tenths per cent to be exact.
Looking now to the discussion of how the United States should move ahead and where the United States is currently moving ahead, Let's look at the record. To respond to Senator Kennedy’s implication, Is the United States standing still? Is it at all true that this Administration has been one of retreat, of defeat, or even stagnation? Is it true that, that we have not been moving ahead in any of the fields that he has mentioned? Thankfully, there exists a long record of history in which to compare against. We have the record of the Truman Administration, for instance, an Administration of seven and a half years. Now where does the Truman Administration stand when compared to the seven and a half years of the Eisenhower Administration? When we compare these two records, especially in the areas that Senator Kennedy has discussed tonight, we find the undeniable truth that this country has been moving forward, and fiercely so.
Let's take schools for one. Americans have built more schools in these last seven and a half years than we built in the previous seven and a half, and for that matter in the previous twenty. Let's take hydroelectric power as another example. We have developed more hydroelectric power in these seven and a half years than was developed in any previous administration in American history. When discussing hospitals. We find that more have been built in this Administration than in the previous Administration. The same is true of highways.
We often hear gross national product or the GNP discussed and in that respect may I say that when we compare the growth in this Administration with the eleven percent growth of the previous Administration, this Administration has seen a total growth of nineteen percent. Undeniably, there's been more growth in this Administration than in its predecessor. But let's not leave it there; let's put it in terms of the average family. What has happened to you? Wages have gone up five times as much in the Eisenhower Administration as they did in the Truman Administration. We find that the prices the American citizen pays went up five times as much in the Truman Administration as they have in the Eisenhower Administration.
I would hope Senator Kennedy is aware that the average family income went up fifteen percent in the Eisenhower years as against two per cent in the Truman years. This can in no honest way be seen as a nation standing still. But, good as this record is, may I emphasize that it isn't enough. A record is never something to stand on. It's something to build on. And in building on this record, we have a crystal clear path that we know is the way to progress. Senator Kennedy has suggested that he believes he knows the way. I respect the sincerity in which he makes that suggestion. But on the other hand, when we look at the various programs that he offers, they are nothing new. Upon inspection they appear as nothing but simple retreads of the programs of the Truman Administration. The programs of the Eisenhower Administration, and furthermore of a Nixon Administration, are programs that have and will continue to expand opportunities. Programs that will give all Americans an equal chance for progress in all areas of life.
We will continue moving America forward and further build on the wonderful record that we have made. When we look at these programs, might I suggest that in evaluating them we often have a tendency to say that the test of a program is how much you're spending. In all the areas to which I have referred Senator Kennedy’s proposed programs, he would have the federal government spend more than I would have it spend. I have costed out the cost of the Democratic platform. It runs a minimum of well over thirteen billion dollars a year more than we are presently spending. Now, in all fairness, the Republican platform will cost more too. It will cost a maximum of under five billion dollars a year more than we're presently spending. Now, does this mean that his programs are better than ours?
Not at all. Because it isn't a question of how much the federal government spends; It is a question of which administration does the right thing most effectively. And in our case, I do believe that our programs will stimulate the creative energies of a hundred and eighty million free Americans. I believe the programs that Senator Kennedy advocates will have a tendency to stifle those creative energies, I believe in other words, that his program would lead to the stagnation of progress not its continuation. The final point that I would like to make is this: Senator Kennedy has suggested in his speeches that we lack compassion for the poor, for the old, and the unfortunate. Well, I know what it means to be poor. I know what it means to see people who are unemployed. My father, he was a streetcar motorman, then a farmer, and then he bought a lemon ranch to support his family. If he were here today he would assure you that it was the poorest lemon ranch in California and as it would happen, he sold it before they found oil on it. After the ups and downs and the ins and outs, having lost a child, he became a grocer. He was a great man, because he did his job. I know my father’s story, and it is a story I know shares similarities with the stories of thousands if not hundreds of thousands of families in this country. I know what it is like to be poor, the same, I find myself urged to clarify, cannot be said about Senator Kennedy.
“Senator,” Fleming began. “During his campaign, Vice President Nixon has said that you have displayed naïve beliefs and at times that you’ve acted immature. Most would determine that he has raised the question of your leadership. On this issue, why do you think people should vote for you rather than the Vice President?
“Well, the Vice President and I came to the Congress together in 1946,” Kennedy replied, his voice stuttering midway through the sentence. “We both served in the Labor Committee. I've been there now for fourteen years, the same period of time that he has. The time he has served in government I mean. So given that, our experience in uh - government is comparable. Secondly, I think the question regards the programs that we advocate. I come out of the Democratic Party, which in this century has produced Woodrow Wilson and Franklin Roosevelt and Harry Truman, and which supported and sustained these programs which I've discussed tonight. Mr. Nixon comes out of the Republican Party and he was nominated by it. I think Mr. Nixon is an effective leader of his party. I hope he would grant me the same. The question before us is: which point of view and which party do we want to lead the United States?
“Mr. Nixon, would you like to comment on that statement?”
“I want it to be made unquestionably clear that I did not and do not mean to challenge Senator Kennedy’s intentions or service toward this great country,” Nixon said. “What I do mean to say, and what was meant by statements of the like, is that while it is true that Senator Kennedy has unquestionable experience in the Senate; what Senator Kennedy does not have is the experience that is offered by serving in executive office a heartbeat away from the Presidency. With myself having served seven and a half years as Vice President, I think Senator Kennedy would have to concede that our experience when it comes to executive office is not equal. And I might add, that while Senator Kennedy may be correct in the implication that the issues of party and point of view are ones to be taken seriously, I would have to say that the matters of experience and preparedness are just as important. As Senator Kennedy mentioned earlier, we are standing in the midst of a very trying time. A time that demands an experienced hand to guide the ship and not one learning as they go.”
“The next question from Mr. Novins.” Smith said.
“Mr. Vice President,” Novins said. “Your campaign stresses the value of your eight year experience, and the question arises as to exactly what experience you have gained over these years. Specifically, whether it was as an observer, or as a participant, or even as an initiator of policy and decision-making. Would you please tell us, specifically, what major proposals you have made in the last eight years that have been adopted by the Administration?”
“It would be rather difficult to cover them in the short time we have here tonight. I can however, present the ones that immediately come to mind. In the first instance, each of my foreign trips resulted in recommendations made by myself to the President that have been adopted. For example, following my first trip abroad, I took the strong stance that we increase our exchange programs particularly those for the exchange of leaders in the labor field and in the information field. After my trip to South America, I recommended that an independent lending agency be set up and geared specifically for those nations. I have also submitted a number of other recommendations; for example, after my trip to Hungary I made a number of recommendations regarding the Hungarian refugee situation which were also accepted and adopted. Not only by the President either as some were further enacted into law by the Congress, of which Mister Kennedy and his running mate are a part of. If necessary I can continue, but I believe the President said it best earlier this week. That I have played an integral role in the recommendation of policy and the presenting of in depth advise for the entirety of my time in the office of the Vice Presidency.”
“Senator Kennedy, do you have any comments to make regarding the Vice President’s statement?”
“I have no comment,” Kennedy replied bluntly.
“The next question to Vice President Nixon from Mr. Vanocur,” said Smith.
“Uh - Mr. Vice President,” Vanocur began. “Since the question of executive leadership is a very important campaign issue, I'd like to follow Mr. Novins' question. Now, Republican campaign slogans say it’s experience that counts. A great many of them have that slogan over a picture of yourself. You have campaigned on the notion that you've had more governmental executive decision making experience than your opponent. But, in his news conference on August twenty-fourth, President Eisenhower was asked to give one example of a major idea of yours that he adopted. His reply was, and I'm quoting; ‘If you give me a week I might think of one. I don't remember.’ That was a month ago, Mr. Vice President, and the President hasn't brought it up since. If you can, can you clarify which version is correct, the one put out by Republican campaign leaders and yourself or the one put out by President Eisenhower?”
Nixon’s eye seemed to stab through the air and into the face of Vanocur. Eisenhower’s little quip had already been brought up in spirit tonight and if this was any indication he was going to be hounded by it the entire night. He looked away from Vanocur and over to Smith and then to Kennedy. He smirked in a calculation he hoped would appear as if he was shrugging off the question with little thought.
“Well, Mr. Vanocur, first and foremost, if you know the President or have spent any amount of time with him, you too would be more than certain, as I am, that it was nothing more than a facetious remark. Furthermore, I would also suggest that insofar as this statement is concerned, that he has in fact addressed it. Albeit not directly. Earlier this week, as I have already mentioned tonight, President Eisenhower stated, and I quote, that I ‘played an integral role in the recommendation of policy and the presenting of in depth advise’ for the entirety of my service as the Vice President,” Nixon said, beginning the quote in an almost confrontational tone purposefully calling out Vanocur’s own usage of a quote.
“In addition to the clarification from the President, I can only say this,” Nixon continued. “In my service as Vice President, I have sat in the National Security Council, and countless cabinet meetings. I have met with the legislative leaders and I have met with the President as he debated the great repercussions of important decisions. Such as that with regard to Lebanon, Quemoy and Matsu, among other matters. The President has said himself that he has asked for my advice and I have given it. Sometimes my advice has been taken and of course sometimes it has not. I refuse to say that I made any decisions directly. As the President is the only one that can make decisions, and is the only one that should be able to make such decisions. It is an adviser’s role to give counsel when he asks for it. I have frequently and eagerly served in such a role throughout this Administration.
As far as the discussion on if that is experience that counts; I can only say that my experience is there for the people to consider; as Senator Kennedy's is there for the people to consider. As he pointed out, we came to the Congress in the same year, but it is equally prudent to clarify that his experience has been different from mine. Mine has been in the executive branch, the branch of the Presidency. His has been in the legislative branch. I would say that the people know the difference.”
“The next question to Senator Kennedy from Mr. Novins,” Smith said again.
“Senator Kennedy, in connection with these problems of the future that you speak of, and the programs that you enunciated earlier in your direct talk, you call for expanding some of the welfare programs for schools, for teacher salaries, medical care, and so on and so forth; but you also call for reducing the federal debt. And I'm wondering how you, if you're president in January, would go about footing the bill for all this. Does this mean that you…?”
“I didn't indicate and I did not advocate reducing the federal debt, “Kennedy shot back, interjecting. “I don't believe that you're going to be able to reduce the federal debt very much in nineteen sixty-one, two, or three. I think you have heavy obligations which affect our security, which we're going to have to meet. I've never suggested we should uh - be able to retire the debt substantially, or even at all in nineteen sixty-one or two.”
“Senator, I do believe in one of your speeches…” Novins said, trying to regain the floor.
“No, never.” Kennedy interrupted again.
“…you suggested that reducing the interest rate would help toward…”
“No. No. Not reducing the interest…” Kennedy repeated.
“…a reduction of the Federal debt.” Novins finished.
“What I have talked about…,” Kennedy started. “What I have talked about however, are the kind of programs that are uh - fiscally sound. Medical care for the aged, I would put under social security. The Vice President and I disagree on this. Their program is going to cost six hundred million dollars per year to the government, and six hundred million dollars by the state. The program which I advocated, which failed in the United States Senate, by five votes, would have put medical care for the aged in Social Security. It would have been paid for through the Social Security System and the Social Security tax. Secondly, I support federal aid to education and federal aid for teachers. In my opinion that's a good investment. There is no greater return to an economy or to a society than an educational system first in its class. On the… the development of natural resources, I would pay as you go in the sense that they would be balanced. I believe in the balanced budget. And the only conditions under which I would unbalance the budget would be if there was a grave national emergency or a serious recession. Otherwise, with a steady rate of economic stability I think that we can finance essential programs within a balanced budget, if business remains orderly.
“Mr. Nixon, your comment?” Smith offered.
“Yes,” Nixon picked up. “Senator Kennedy's and the Democratic platform, which did in fact mention cutting the national debt, is not possible. Particularly under the proposals that Senator Kennedy has repeatedly advocated. It would not be possible to cut the national debt or to reduce taxes on Americans. As a matter of fact, all roads indicate that it will be entirely necessary to raise taxes. As far as Senator Kennedy’s one proposal is concerned, to use Social Security to fund medical care for the aged, means raising taxes for those who pay Social Security. He points out that he would make pay-as-you-go the basis for our natural resources development. Where our natural resources development is concerned, you in fact have to pay now and appropriate the money. And while they eventually do pay out, it doesn't mean that the government, and the taxpayer, won’t have to put out the money each year. And so I would say that all of these proposals from Senator Kennedy, will result in one of two things: either he intends to raise taxes or he intends to unbalance the budget. If he unbalances the budget it will result in inflation, and that will be, of course, a very cruel blow to the very people, the older people, we all care about and that he claims to be doing this for. As far as aid for school construction is concerned, I do favor that. In January of this year, Senator Kennedy stated that he favored such an approach rather than aid to teacher salaries. I favor that because I believe that's the best way to aid our schools without running any risk whatsoever of teachers feeling pressured by the federal government on what to teach their children.”
While Smith introduced the next question, both Nixon and Kennedy met each other’s gaze. In Kennedy was a visible ball of fire, fed with the anger that Nixon was holding his own. For Nixon, the nerves that he always attributed to the stage and cameras were fading away ever so slightly as he began to feel in control of the situation.
“Mr. Vice President…,” Warren said, bringing both men back to the discussion. “You just mentioned schools and it was just yesterday, I think, that you asked for an increase in education standards, and this evening you have talked about advances in education. Mr. Vice President, you said… it was back in 1957 I believe… that the current salaries for school teachers were effectively a national disgrace. Higher salaries, you said, were important to the teachers. You stated that the situation as it stood, and as it still stands, could lead to a national disaster. And yet, you refused to break a tie vote in the Senate when doing so would have granted such salary increases to teachers. I wonder if you could explain that, your refusal to vote, sir.
“I'm awfully glad that you asked that particular question,” Nixon responded. “I was able to touch upon it a moment ago, but I am very happy to clarify my point on the subject. I think the reason I voted against having the federal government pay teachers' salaries is that I want our education to be free of federal control. When the federal government is the one paying teachers, whether it be deliberate or not, it will inevitably seek to have the power to set standards and force their views on teachers as to what to teach and when to teach it. I firmly believe, as is evident in other facets in our society and others, that government involvement in the payment of teachers would eventually lead to the government dominance of schools. I think that it would serve as a strongly corrosive and corrupting force on American teachers and to that end would be incredibly dangerous to the fabric of America and our youth.
Let me be perfectly clear when I say that I favor higher salaries for teachers. But, the way that you get higher salaries for teachers is to support school construction. This allows local school districts, within the states, access to means in which to raise teachers' salaries. I should also point out that I believe that local communities and the states should be allowed that responsibility. Teachers' salaries, very fortunately, have gone up fifty percent in the last eight years, over fifteen percent higher than other salaries. Now, I do hold that this should be more. But I do not believe that a massive federal program is the right way to go about it. My objection here is not the cost in dollars. My objection here is the unforgiveable cost in freedom and choice for the American people. Giving the federal government power over the education of our young is a dangerous precedent, and it is a slippery slope we should avoid at any cost, lest we join others who have done just that in the ash heap of history.
“Senator Kennedy's comment?”
“I would clarify that…,” Kennedy said as he cleared his throat. “That I do not believe the federal government should directly pay teachers' salaries. The issue then before the Senate was that the money would be given to the state, who could decide to use it either for salaries or school construction. On that question the Vice President and I disagreed. I voted in favor of that proposal and supported it strongly, because I think that it provided the necessary assistance to our teachers. Mr. Nixon single-handily defeated that proposal. I don't want the federal government paying teachers' salaries directly, I agree with Mr. Nixon on that front. But in my opinion, if the states make the determination as to how to spend said money school independence is protected. My view is that you can do these programs within a balanced budget as long as our economy is moving ahead.
“The next question to Senator Kennedy from Mr. Vanocur.”
“Senator, you've been promising the voters that you'll try and push through bills on medical aid to the aged, a comprehensive minimum hourly wage bill, and federal aid for education,” Said Vanocur in an accusatory tone. “However, in August, which was after the convention with a great many Democrats knowing you could be President after the election, you could not get action on these bills even when you had overwhelming majorities. Especially so in the Senate. With that being the case, how do you feel that you'll be able to get them in January if in fact you are elected?”
“Now, we did pass in the Senate a bill to provide a dollar twenty-five cent minimum wage,” Kennedy began. “It failed because the House did not pass it by eleven votes. And I might say that two-thirds of the Republicans in the House voted against a dollar twenty-five cent minimum wage and a majority of the Democrats were in favor… nearly two-thirds of them… Of course, we were threatened by a veto if the minimum wage was passed as it's extremely difficult with the great power that the president possesses to pass any bill when the president is opposed to it. Secondly, we passed a federal aid to education bill in the Senate; but, it failed to come to the floor of the House of Representatives. It was killed in the Rules Committee. And it is a fact in the August session that the four Republican members joining with two Democrats voted against sending the aid to education bill to the floor of the House. Four Democrats voted for it. Every Republican on the Rules Committee voted against sending that bill. Thirdly, on medical care it is the same fight that's been going on for twenty-five years in Social Security. We wanted to tie it to Social Security and we offered an amendment to do so. The President of the United States, we were informed, also intended to veto that if given the chance as well. In my judgment, a vigorous Democratic president supported by a Democratic majority in the House and Senate can win the support for these programs. But if you send a Republican president and a Democratic majority and the threat of a veto hangs over the Congress, in my judgment you will continue what happened in the August session, inaction.”
“Mr. Nixon, comment?”
“Well obviously my views on the situation are different,” Nixon said. “I would say, that when Senator Kennedy refers to the action of the House Rules Committee, there are eight Democrats on that committee and four Republicans. It would seem to me that it is very difficult to blame four Republicans for eight Democrats' failing to get something through that particular committee. I would say further that to blame the President and the very threat of his veto power for the inability of the Senator and his colleagues to form a cohesive unit misses the mark entirely. When the president exercises his veto power, a bill must have reached him to begin with and he has to have the people behind him, let alone a third of the Congress. Because let's consider it. If the majority of the members of the Congress felt that these particular proposals were good solutions, the majority of those who were Democrats, why couldn’t they pass them to begin with? The reason why these particular bills in these various fields were not passed was not because President Eisenhower was against them; it was because the people were against them. Fair and simple. I am convinced that the alternate proposals that I have, that the Republicans have, in the field of health, education, in welfare, and so on and so forth will be much better received and much easier to pass. Because they are not as extreme, not as over corrective and they will solve the issues without too great a cost in dollars or in the freedom of the people.”
“Mr. Warren's question for Senator Kennedy,” Smith said.
“Senator Kennedy, on another subject, Communism is so often described as an ideology that exists in places other than the United States,” Warren said. “Let me ask you, sir: how serious do you find Communist subversive activities within the United States today in relation to the national security?”
“Well, I think they're serious,” Kennedy said quickly. “I think it's a matter that America should continue to dedicate a great deal of attention to. We should uphold the laws of the United States to protect us from those who would destroy us from within. We should be ever vigilant and alert. If the United States maintains its strength, I think that we can meet any threat, but the major threat in my opinion are external in origin.”
“Mr. Nixon, comment?”
“The threat of Communism within the United States is something that we have combated for years,” Nixon said. “It is a real threat and it is one that will continue to be a problem for the foreseeable future. We have to remember that the cold war that Soviet Premier Khrushchev is waging, is a cold war that permeates through all corners of the world and that includes right here. In the United States. That's why we have to remain vigilant against the unceasing threat of Communism. It is also imperative that in countering these threats that we uphold the standards of conduct we have to come to expect from the United States. And, in this connection, we fight Communism at home not only through laws meant to fend off Communists but we also fight Communism at home by working to end any and all injustices that exist in our society. I firmly believe that the ideas and programs proposed by me and my party’s platform will serve to do away with such injustice and better the lives of all Americans. Simply put, Mr. Warren, we fight communism at home by strengthening and emboldening the home. We fight communism by continuing the march toward progress that has been underway these past eight years.”
“Thank you very much, gentlemen,” Smith said, as he brought the night’s discussion to an end. “This hour has gone by all too quickly. Thank you very much for permitting us to present the next president of the United States on this unique program. I've been asked by the candidates to thank the American networks and the affiliated stations for providing the time and facilities for this joint appearance…”
For the past hour, Rogers and Robert Kennedy had remained virtually shoulder to shoulder in silence as they watched their respective candidates face off against one another from the control room. Kennedy, visibly unsatisfied, sported red marks on his face from where he had rubbed his index finger across the underside of his lower lip. It markedly telegraphed his concern and deep thought surrounding what was playing out before him. He rubbed his eyes with both hands before taking a deep breath and letting out a quiet sigh. Jack had failed to score any major points and Nixon had more than held his own. This was not how this night was supposed to go and as the final statements from the two candidates drew to a close, Bobby could feel the opportunities this night contained slipping out of their grasp and into the hands of the man standing next to him. Rogers, smirking as he saw the displeasure consume Bobby, couldn’t help himself.
“How do you think Dick looked?,” Rogers asked with the tone of someone knowingly driving a rusted nail under his victim’s skin.
“Go fuck yourself Ted,” Bobby shot back.
With Rogers’ smile sweeping across his face, Bobby left the room before another word was exchanged; a cloud of anxiety and anger billowing behind him down the hallway as he brushed past assistants and studio crew members. Back in the control room, Rogers was internally jumping with joy as he watched the candidates leave the set. Kennedy, doing his best to wear a smile was clearly a completely different man from just an hour ago. He looked tired, and perhaps disappointed. Nixon waived to the interviewers, his hand staying in the air as he turned around and headed back into the hallway.
===================================================================
1. I wouldn't expect this timeline to consistenly drive this deep into a single moment, and I apologize if some find this section far too wordy. But I felt with this moment being one of our primary POD's, it was necessary to spend our time here.
2. I utilized the OTL transcript in the writing of this section, while there are multiple areas where it differs, it does follow it quite closely if not word for word in some areas.
Never thought I'd say this... Bit Bobby really is gonna be coping and seething.
A great chapter by the way. I enjoyed the main focus on the debate and it's main major changes, especially with regards towards Nixon's conduct, especially with his introduction.
"Just some references to the debate in the first chapter... Well, it's already an interesting timeline. Maybe there is really no need-"
Suddenly:
A wild "Chapter 1: Part 2 - The Debate To End All Debates" appears!
"...Today, I am a very happy man."
---
Suddenly:
A wild "Chapter 1: Part 2 - The Debate To End All Debates" appears!
"...Today, I am a very happy man."
---
Kennedy propaganda: "Nixon is evil, hates chocolate!"
Great TL @SargentHawk!
I'm sorry for being so harsh earlier btw
I had no idea what you were going through
I'm sorry for being so harsh earlier btw
I had no idea what you were going through
