Yay it's my favorite 1960s timeline again. Can't wait to see where this goes. Nixon in the 60s is one of the most interesting concepts that can be done in the time period and I loved the original version of this. Is it going to be mostly prose or are there going to be more textbook-style writings?
A Man Is Finished When He Quits - The Early Presidency of Richard M. Nixon
- Thread starter SargentHawk
- Start date
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- Tags
- 1960 nixon 1960
Great to see you back!, no hard feelings whatsoever. Hope you enjoyed the new update,
I'm trying to stick mostly to prose this time around. It's more of a challenge for me to do it, but I think it is making it more engaging and potentially more publishable in the future.
That being said, I'm not going to completely throw out the possibility that some world building and other things might not be done in a document style formatting
Chapter 1: Part 3 - It All Comes Down To California
Chapter 1: Part 3
November 8th 1960
In Hyannis Port, the stress of the war room finally proved to be too much for Bobby. After the third unsuccessful try to reach Johnson on the line again, the anger forced him out of the door and into the yard. He took in a deep breath of the air, the salt of the sea hitting his senses and causing a brief moment of calm to flood his mind. Staring across the grass and over the sand into the darkness of the horizon, the weight of the past several months seemed to settle its weight across his shoulders. No matter how this night turned out, this would be the last night he would have to wear it.
“Why in the hell Dad insisted I do this I will never know,” he said to himself. His hands balling into his fists and coming to rest on his hips.
As he marched along in the grass, calming his nerves, he kicked what had to be a football with the swing of his foot, mid-step. He watched the silhouette of the ball roll toward the brush of sea oats that served as the barrier between the nice kept yard and the beach sand. Before he could start the walk to retrieve it, a loud and audible chorus of boos echoed from the house and into the yard. A tidal wave of discontent swept over him for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, on a night like tonight, what he was hearing could only mean one thing. Bobby lowered his shoulders and turned to start walking back toward the house. As he did so, he saw Jack exit the house and walk onto the porch. His hanging head silhouetted by the light coming from the window.
“They just called Illinois,” Kennedy called out in a solemn voice, not looking up from the boards of the porch. “For Dick,” The words punching Bobby square in the gut as he did his best to contain the bad news.
“Goddammit,” Bobby cursed under his breath. “What’s the level of certainty?”
“They’ve been teetering it back and forth for a while now, but they’ve called it. The areas still coming in he’s expected to take by a mile. Huntley and Brinkley seemed pretty sure on it, and well... If they’re giving it to ole’ Dick, he’s got it. They sounded pretty damn sure.”
“And Texas? Is it holding?” Bobby asked, attempting to find any silver lining.
“We’re building a lead, but its close. Not that it matters any Bobby,” Kennedy said, shifting his tone, a small ironic grin forming.“You know, Jackie caught me humming Hail to the Chief this morning… It’s starting to look like I may have gotten a bit ahead of myself. If this keeps going like it has... We… Well, I might just lose this damn thing.”
Kennedy brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck, it was almost like he could feel the Presidency slipping through his fingers.
“Its only midnight Jack,” Bobby said as he stopped halfway up the steps to look at his brother, tucking in the back of his shirt that had come out during the walk. “Look… we knew this was going to be close. It’s closer than we expected just like you said this afternoon, but we can still pull this off Jack.”
“Shit Bobby…,” Kennedy said as he crossed his arms over his chest and straightened up his back. “We both know we needed Illinois to get this done. We needed Daley and his boys to get out the vote. Just doesn’t look like it was enough. Not this time.”
“Jesus Jack, you sound like you’re ready to concede. Its way too early to be thinking about that right now.”
“Piss on someone else’s back and tell them its raining…,” Kennedy said, his words landing like an unexpected hammer blow. “We’re dead in the water Bobby. We’re standing still in the places that we should be moving, and where we’re not moving… Well Nixon sure as hell is.”
Jack reached into his front shirt pocket and pulled out another cigar, one that he had intended to save for tonight’s victory. Now that the victory was appearing out of his grasp, there didn’t seem to be much of a reason to hold back the growing urge in his mind. He fumbled with the lighter as Bobby topped the steps and walked around his brother to one of the rocking chairs.
“What is it you’re saying Jack?” Bobby asked with obvious hesitation.
“I’m saying that we need to get a draft of a concession speech put together. To have it ready for if… when we need it.”
“Jesus Christ Jack,” Bobby said as he fell into one of the chairs.
“There is something that I haven’t been able to get off my mind,” Kennedy said, working to get his cigar going. He took several long draws from it before looking to make sure it was evenly lit. The darkness of night making it an easier task than usual. “Do you think I fucked up? Following Nixon and calling Coretta…?”
“It was the right thing to do,” Bobby leaned forward in the rocker and planted both feet onto the floor holding him forward.“If anything, I wish we had done more Jack. I let John talk me out of trying to get King released. We should have called that bastard of a judge down there in De Kalb County. What’s happening down there is an embarrassment to everybody in this country whether they realize it or not. The least we could do is let King and his wife know we thought so. Hell, Dick Nixon made the same call you did. Wrote a letter and made it public even.”
“Yeah, but Dick never tried to cater to the South. I think we might have overstepped. I might have overstepped. We pandered to the goddamn solid south Bobby. I practically begged Lyndon to be my Vice President, then we go and undermine ourselves and meanwhile Dick is the one getting all chummy with the negros. He’s the one winning Illinois tonight,” Kennedy said, the smoke drifting around him. He stared at the cindering ash end of the cigar. The dim light slightly illuminating his hand. “We should have just let the King business lay.”
“The South was going to give us hell no matter what we did. But Jack, there’s just no way that a single phone call made the difference here. Did they mention California?”
“California?”
“Yes. If we’re in our worst-case scenario here, and with Dick having and holding Illinois, New Jersey and Missouri… It comes down to California. Now, Jack, even the most cynical of us were surprised on how narrow California has been. Regardless of if we lost all the others, if we carry California…”
“We carry the election.”
“So Jack, hold off on the concession. Work on it if you want. But don’t get ready to use it. This can go until morning.”
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
“We’re back here once again on the deck of NBC news election central and suppose we direct your attention now to the national recap board,” came Huntley’s voice from the television’s speakers. A ticking counter currently displayed on the screen depicting the national vote. “First to the national popular vote as it now stands. As it has been all night, its still incredibly close. Kennedy just slightly ahead by roughly a quarter of a million out of what is now 59 million votes cast. We’ve heard many forecasts about this election, but very few predicted such a close and contentious race. Nixon in particular has just about upset all of the experts by carrying nearly all of the west, with him carrying 9 states to Kennedy’s one. However, in California the figures that we have just reviewed are placing Nixon and Kennedy in a nose to nose race to the finish, with California’s 32 electoral votes beginning to lean ever closer to Kennedy as his spread is the highest it has been all night, 43,000 votes. However, we ask that it be kept in mind that the two have been teeter-tottering there all night. At this hour, the key to the electoral vote majority…”
Nixon sat in resolute silence as he stared into the images on the screen. He settled for NBC’s election coverage over the other networks simply because it had been the last one he had turned the dial to two hours ago. That and the fact that ABC News bowed out of the coverage hours ago in favor of running the Rifleman and other shows in its lineup. Earlier in the night he had been nervously and quickly turning back and forth in a rotation to compare the coverage, but as the hour grew later, he was beginning to feel his eyes growing heavier. He had sunken deeper into the chair and was now almost laying down in the chair with his feet up on an ottoman. When the coverage went back to Huntley sitting at the coverage desk, Nixon glanced down to the legal pad laying in his lap. On it were the electoral college votes as he saw them. According to his count, aided by the periodic updates he was receiving from Bob, the total votes were now projected to stand with Kennedy at 260 and himself at 245. With California being the only true unknown in the list, either of them could be declared the victor at any moment. It was not lost on Nixon that his home state, the state he had first been elected from less than 15 years ago, and the state he was currently in, was the one that would be the deciding voice in this election. For the past several months as Kennedy had polled closer and closer his habit of assuming the worst had taken him through the emotional muck and ensured that his stress remained at a lifetime high. Uncharacteristically, he felt something that said everything would work out for the best. The rarity at which he felt this way was so self-apparent that his feeling at ease was enough to make him uneasy. He supposed that it was because in some reaches of his mind, he hadn’t thought he’d get this far in the first place, with the media pushing Kennedy so adamantly. The fact that it had come down to California almost felt serendipitous to him in this sleep deprived mindset. Had he slept at all the night before he would probably be as stressed and as self-dismissive as ever.
The crowd in the other room had also emptied entirely. The droves of major supporters and close friends had now slumped into silence. Now that it was nearing four in the morning all had decided that the winner wouldn’t be decided until the next day, and based on the current predictions, it wouldn’t be until midday tomorrow at that.Hearing nothing, Nixon looked back at the television as he yawned and put his pen in his shirt pocket. He leaned even further back in his chair and stared at the television screen for another few minutes before he blinked, unknowingly lending himself to unconsciousness.
………………..
“Dick…,” said Pat, Her hand shaking his shoulder. “Dick. Wake up.”
He couldn’t tell how long she had been trying to wake him, but the light in the window was enough to tell him that he had been out for at least a few hours. The tears in Pat’s eyes made his heart drop into the depths of his chest as the hope of a victory momentarily slipped from his mind.
“They called California,” She said caringly as she sat down on the ottoman next to his feet. “You did it. You’re going to be President.” Her voice fell flat as she finished her sentence.
“Oh…,” he said. A feeling of responsibility falling over him as the full weight of Pat’s words settled in. She had always hated political life but she loved him more. The constant shaking of hands and the bearing of their private lives drained her, but its what it took. As he looked toward her, her hair silhouetted by the morning sun coming in through the window, he remembered the pact he had made to her before the 1956 election, a promise to leave the ticket and politics altogether. Of course, that had been pushed aside after the General’s heart attack, but the guilt for breaking that oath surfaced constantly. She often spoke of missing the life they only had for a short few months before the war had thrown him onto this course.
“They’re waiting for us down in the ballroom now when you’re ready…”
“Pat…,” Nixon said, grabbing her hand. “I know how hard… I want you to know how thankful I am for you. I couldn’t do any of this without you. We won.”
“I know…,” Pat said, pausing for a moment to find the right words. “I am happy. Happy that we’re here. Relieved actually. Had it gone differently, there would have been more races and more campaigns. We couldn’t have stopped. Now… Now we only have one more.”
“Yeah,” Nixon replied. His eyes looking down toward the floor. She was right. He would have dragged his family along right or wrong until they had won. And who knows what that would have done to them.
“Promise me something?”
“yes?”
“Promise,” Pat started and gripped her husband's hand. “Promise that after running for reelection that that will be the end. That we can go home and just be alone. Away from all of these damn people.”
Nixon could hear the venom in her voice at the mention of the others. Pat had it so much worse than he ever did. While he was caricatured in the papers and hounded by the writers, Pat was criticized for everything. To how she cleaned the house and down to what she wore. How she raised the kids. How she and him showed their feelings toward one another. The East Coast was not their kind of people and the East Coast took great pride in reminding them.
“I Promise,” Nixon said.
“Now come on, let’s get put together and go do this,” Pat smiled, and stood up.
November 8th 1960
In Hyannis Port, the stress of the war room finally proved to be too much for Bobby. After the third unsuccessful try to reach Johnson on the line again, the anger forced him out of the door and into the yard. He took in a deep breath of the air, the salt of the sea hitting his senses and causing a brief moment of calm to flood his mind. Staring across the grass and over the sand into the darkness of the horizon, the weight of the past several months seemed to settle its weight across his shoulders. No matter how this night turned out, this would be the last night he would have to wear it.
“Why in the hell Dad insisted I do this I will never know,” he said to himself. His hands balling into his fists and coming to rest on his hips.
As he marched along in the grass, calming his nerves, he kicked what had to be a football with the swing of his foot, mid-step. He watched the silhouette of the ball roll toward the brush of sea oats that served as the barrier between the nice kept yard and the beach sand. Before he could start the walk to retrieve it, a loud and audible chorus of boos echoed from the house and into the yard. A tidal wave of discontent swept over him for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, on a night like tonight, what he was hearing could only mean one thing. Bobby lowered his shoulders and turned to start walking back toward the house. As he did so, he saw Jack exit the house and walk onto the porch. His hanging head silhouetted by the light coming from the window.
“They just called Illinois,” Kennedy called out in a solemn voice, not looking up from the boards of the porch. “For Dick,” The words punching Bobby square in the gut as he did his best to contain the bad news.
“Goddammit,” Bobby cursed under his breath. “What’s the level of certainty?”
“They’ve been teetering it back and forth for a while now, but they’ve called it. The areas still coming in he’s expected to take by a mile. Huntley and Brinkley seemed pretty sure on it, and well... If they’re giving it to ole’ Dick, he’s got it. They sounded pretty damn sure.”
“And Texas? Is it holding?” Bobby asked, attempting to find any silver lining.
“We’re building a lead, but its close. Not that it matters any Bobby,” Kennedy said, shifting his tone, a small ironic grin forming.“You know, Jackie caught me humming Hail to the Chief this morning… It’s starting to look like I may have gotten a bit ahead of myself. If this keeps going like it has... We… Well, I might just lose this damn thing.”
Kennedy brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck, it was almost like he could feel the Presidency slipping through his fingers.
“Its only midnight Jack,” Bobby said as he stopped halfway up the steps to look at his brother, tucking in the back of his shirt that had come out during the walk. “Look… we knew this was going to be close. It’s closer than we expected just like you said this afternoon, but we can still pull this off Jack.”
“Shit Bobby…,” Kennedy said as he crossed his arms over his chest and straightened up his back. “We both know we needed Illinois to get this done. We needed Daley and his boys to get out the vote. Just doesn’t look like it was enough. Not this time.”
“Jesus Jack, you sound like you’re ready to concede. Its way too early to be thinking about that right now.”
“Piss on someone else’s back and tell them its raining…,” Kennedy said, his words landing like an unexpected hammer blow. “We’re dead in the water Bobby. We’re standing still in the places that we should be moving, and where we’re not moving… Well Nixon sure as hell is.”
Jack reached into his front shirt pocket and pulled out another cigar, one that he had intended to save for tonight’s victory. Now that the victory was appearing out of his grasp, there didn’t seem to be much of a reason to hold back the growing urge in his mind. He fumbled with the lighter as Bobby topped the steps and walked around his brother to one of the rocking chairs.
“What is it you’re saying Jack?” Bobby asked with obvious hesitation.
“I’m saying that we need to get a draft of a concession speech put together. To have it ready for if… when we need it.”
“Jesus Christ Jack,” Bobby said as he fell into one of the chairs.
“There is something that I haven’t been able to get off my mind,” Kennedy said, working to get his cigar going. He took several long draws from it before looking to make sure it was evenly lit. The darkness of night making it an easier task than usual. “Do you think I fucked up? Following Nixon and calling Coretta…?”
“It was the right thing to do,” Bobby leaned forward in the rocker and planted both feet onto the floor holding him forward.“If anything, I wish we had done more Jack. I let John talk me out of trying to get King released. We should have called that bastard of a judge down there in De Kalb County. What’s happening down there is an embarrassment to everybody in this country whether they realize it or not. The least we could do is let King and his wife know we thought so. Hell, Dick Nixon made the same call you did. Wrote a letter and made it public even.”
“Yeah, but Dick never tried to cater to the South. I think we might have overstepped. I might have overstepped. We pandered to the goddamn solid south Bobby. I practically begged Lyndon to be my Vice President, then we go and undermine ourselves and meanwhile Dick is the one getting all chummy with the negros. He’s the one winning Illinois tonight,” Kennedy said, the smoke drifting around him. He stared at the cindering ash end of the cigar. The dim light slightly illuminating his hand. “We should have just let the King business lay.”
“The South was going to give us hell no matter what we did. But Jack, there’s just no way that a single phone call made the difference here. Did they mention California?”
“California?”
“Yes. If we’re in our worst-case scenario here, and with Dick having and holding Illinois, New Jersey and Missouri… It comes down to California. Now, Jack, even the most cynical of us were surprised on how narrow California has been. Regardless of if we lost all the others, if we carry California…”
“We carry the election.”
“So Jack, hold off on the concession. Work on it if you want. But don’t get ready to use it. This can go until morning.”
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
“We’re back here once again on the deck of NBC news election central and suppose we direct your attention now to the national recap board,” came Huntley’s voice from the television’s speakers. A ticking counter currently displayed on the screen depicting the national vote. “First to the national popular vote as it now stands. As it has been all night, its still incredibly close. Kennedy just slightly ahead by roughly a quarter of a million out of what is now 59 million votes cast. We’ve heard many forecasts about this election, but very few predicted such a close and contentious race. Nixon in particular has just about upset all of the experts by carrying nearly all of the west, with him carrying 9 states to Kennedy’s one. However, in California the figures that we have just reviewed are placing Nixon and Kennedy in a nose to nose race to the finish, with California’s 32 electoral votes beginning to lean ever closer to Kennedy as his spread is the highest it has been all night, 43,000 votes. However, we ask that it be kept in mind that the two have been teeter-tottering there all night. At this hour, the key to the electoral vote majority…”
Nixon sat in resolute silence as he stared into the images on the screen. He settled for NBC’s election coverage over the other networks simply because it had been the last one he had turned the dial to two hours ago. That and the fact that ABC News bowed out of the coverage hours ago in favor of running the Rifleman and other shows in its lineup. Earlier in the night he had been nervously and quickly turning back and forth in a rotation to compare the coverage, but as the hour grew later, he was beginning to feel his eyes growing heavier. He had sunken deeper into the chair and was now almost laying down in the chair with his feet up on an ottoman. When the coverage went back to Huntley sitting at the coverage desk, Nixon glanced down to the legal pad laying in his lap. On it were the electoral college votes as he saw them. According to his count, aided by the periodic updates he was receiving from Bob, the total votes were now projected to stand with Kennedy at 260 and himself at 245. With California being the only true unknown in the list, either of them could be declared the victor at any moment. It was not lost on Nixon that his home state, the state he had first been elected from less than 15 years ago, and the state he was currently in, was the one that would be the deciding voice in this election. For the past several months as Kennedy had polled closer and closer his habit of assuming the worst had taken him through the emotional muck and ensured that his stress remained at a lifetime high. Uncharacteristically, he felt something that said everything would work out for the best. The rarity at which he felt this way was so self-apparent that his feeling at ease was enough to make him uneasy. He supposed that it was because in some reaches of his mind, he hadn’t thought he’d get this far in the first place, with the media pushing Kennedy so adamantly. The fact that it had come down to California almost felt serendipitous to him in this sleep deprived mindset. Had he slept at all the night before he would probably be as stressed and as self-dismissive as ever.
The crowd in the other room had also emptied entirely. The droves of major supporters and close friends had now slumped into silence. Now that it was nearing four in the morning all had decided that the winner wouldn’t be decided until the next day, and based on the current predictions, it wouldn’t be until midday tomorrow at that.Hearing nothing, Nixon looked back at the television as he yawned and put his pen in his shirt pocket. He leaned even further back in his chair and stared at the television screen for another few minutes before he blinked, unknowingly lending himself to unconsciousness.
………………..
“Dick…,” said Pat, Her hand shaking his shoulder. “Dick. Wake up.”
He couldn’t tell how long she had been trying to wake him, but the light in the window was enough to tell him that he had been out for at least a few hours. The tears in Pat’s eyes made his heart drop into the depths of his chest as the hope of a victory momentarily slipped from his mind.
“They called California,” She said caringly as she sat down on the ottoman next to his feet. “You did it. You’re going to be President.” Her voice fell flat as she finished her sentence.
“Oh…,” he said. A feeling of responsibility falling over him as the full weight of Pat’s words settled in. She had always hated political life but she loved him more. The constant shaking of hands and the bearing of their private lives drained her, but its what it took. As he looked toward her, her hair silhouetted by the morning sun coming in through the window, he remembered the pact he had made to her before the 1956 election, a promise to leave the ticket and politics altogether. Of course, that had been pushed aside after the General’s heart attack, but the guilt for breaking that oath surfaced constantly. She often spoke of missing the life they only had for a short few months before the war had thrown him onto this course.
“They’re waiting for us down in the ballroom now when you’re ready…”
“Pat…,” Nixon said, grabbing her hand. “I know how hard… I want you to know how thankful I am for you. I couldn’t do any of this without you. We won.”
“I know…,” Pat said, pausing for a moment to find the right words. “I am happy. Happy that we’re here. Relieved actually. Had it gone differently, there would have been more races and more campaigns. We couldn’t have stopped. Now… Now we only have one more.”
“Yeah,” Nixon replied. His eyes looking down toward the floor. She was right. He would have dragged his family along right or wrong until they had won. And who knows what that would have done to them.
“Promise me something?”
“yes?”
“Promise,” Pat started and gripped her husband's hand. “Promise that after running for reelection that that will be the end. That we can go home and just be alone. Away from all of these damn people.”
Nixon could hear the venom in her voice at the mention of the others. Pat had it so much worse than he ever did. While he was caricatured in the papers and hounded by the writers, Pat was criticized for everything. To how she cleaned the house and down to what she wore. How she raised the kids. How she and him showed their feelings toward one another. The East Coast was not their kind of people and the East Coast took great pride in reminding them.
“I Promise,” Nixon said.
“Now come on, let’s get put together and go do this,” Pat smiled, and stood up.
Official Election of 1960 Electoral Map
- I present this timeline's official 1960 Electoral College map.
1. The electoral votes from Mississippi and Alabama, per OTL will go to Harry F. Byrd, but this would not have been known to Nixon on election night.
This is my prediction also.
But yeah, loving this TL even if Jack losing does sting in some way.
Even knowing this is an 'early Nixon presidency' timeline, for a moment I wasn't completely sure he was going to win. Nicely done!
Hmm...
Hmm...
So, if Nixon still loses the popular vote... How much of a problem would that be for him?
kham_coc
Banned
From memory, didn't he say that the US aught to get rid of it? (Presumably when he could have won, but didn't this time?)
So NJ, IL, MO, and NM flip... but not HI, which was extremely close OTL? And AK flips to Kennedy? I gather that Nixon campaigned in both states OTL (to hit all 50), but ISTR that ITTL he did not. That would explain it.
As to the popular vote Kennedy led by 115K (if all the AL votes for the fusion ticket are counted for him). If there is an 0.5% national swing to Nixon (which would flip the four states listed above), Nixon wins the PV by 569K (less say 5K in in AK and HI). Nixon also gets just over 50% (50.04% to 49.23% for Kennedy).
That is an incomplete total. The OP wrote
Emphasis added.
There would be ~10M additional votes to count (the OTL turnout was 68.8M), mostly from the pro-Nixon West. ITTL, he carries every western state except NV, HI, and AK, which had small votes. There would also be late votes from the mostly pro-Nixon Midwest; but the pro-Kennedy East would be nearly all counted.
My estimate of the PV is given in the post above.
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Chapter 1: Part 4 - Concession
Wednesday, November 9th, 1960
The Driskill Hotel, Austin, Texas
“For those of you just now joining us…,” John Chancellor's voice came from the television speakers. “We again take you to the popular vote board, where for the first time we are placing the ‘V’ as we say in front of Vice President Nixon’s name on the election board here. As most I am sure remember, last night we placed our emphasis on the importance of one state, the Vice President’s own state, the state of California. The race there was very close, it went back and forth most of the night last night and many will recall that we even reported late last night that Senator Kennedy had begun to pull ahead. But as of this morning, we are reporting that the Vice President has retaken the lead in his home state, and done it surprisingly so. What votes remain to be counted are believed to be from the precincts already heavily favored to Mr. Nixon. That being said, and with the lead now held, we are calling the state of California for Mr. Nixon.”
Lyndon Johnson, sitting alone in the hotel suite’s living room, was unsure how to feel. More accurately, he was unsure of how he wanted others to think he felt. His guilty prayer had been answered; Kennedy would not be setting foot anywhere near the White House and he would not be trapped in the powerless purgatory of a Vice Presidency. Despite this, he still had reason to publicly celebrate given that he had destroyed John Tower in the Senate election. This fact gave him a partial explanation for why he had opened the victory champagne last night and was now finishing the third bottle.
“It really is all said and done then for this Presidential election. The election of 1960. The only real matter now is the wait to hear from Vice President Nixon, we’re told he will appear before the crowd at the Ambassador Hotel in California shortly. However, we take you now to the Hyannis Armory in Massachusetts, where Senator Kennedy arrived some moments ago. This was, I’m sure, not the speech he had hoped to be making. Much of the ropes there for crowd control are not as crowded as I’m sure they otherwise would have been. He should be taking the stage any… and there he is, Senator Kennedy…”
Johnson’s eyes sparkled with twisted delight as he watched Kennedy take the stage with Jackie, both of them flanked with other members of their staff and family members. They both seemed cold and distant toward one another. The voices of the newscasters faded out as he polished off his glass and watched them gather on stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen…,” Kennedy said, without looking up from his notes. “I have sent the following wire to Vice President Nixon. The wire reads: Vice President Nixon, I would like to present you my sincerest congratulations on a fine victory. I know that the nation can continue to count on your leadership and unswerving loyalty over these next four years, whatever may come. Know that you will have the united support of all Americans as you champion the great causes of this nation in the years ahead. Signed Sincerely, John Kennedy.”
Kennedy turned to the next page in his notes, smiled out at the cameras, and continued to read. The crowd, once cheering his arrival, shifted to one of audible disappointment as he did so. To that, Kennedy raised a hand and again began to read.
“As I have every day throughout this campaign, I want to extend my hopes and prayers that the next four years be those of movement and prosperity for our nation. To that end, let us not hold feelings of discontent or malice, but feelings of hope. Let us all, as Americans, look to the future. Through these next four years let us have the belief that we as a country… can stand united and face any fear… stand strong and fight any battle… and stand free and show the world the greatness in all Americans. The American people have spoken, and the man to lead us through these next few years… is Vice President Nixon. In that spirit, I hereby concede the election for the Presidency of the United States to Mr. Nixon. I shall return to Washington to fulfill my duties as Senator for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and will to the utmost of my abilities continue to be of service. I would like to thank anyone… and everyone… who has supported this campaign, especially the efforts of the staff, my brother Robert, and Senator Johnson," The very mention of Johnson's name caused a noticeable flash of anger to shoot across Bobby's face as he sat in support. "Your work has been greatly appreciated and your service carried a great deal of importance. And to all others out there today, Jackie and I thank you…”
“We didn’t want to cut the Senator’s statements short,” said one of the newscasters as the footage cut from Kennedy to that of a full crowd. “but we are now aware that Vice President Nixon, now President Elect, is making his way through the ballroom at the Ambassador Hotel and up to the stage. The crowd here is uproarious…”
Chants of ‘We Want Nixon’ filled the speakers in Johnson’s hotel room and caused his smile to briefly turn. He quickly stood from his chair, switched off the television, and went to shave. Revolting as it was, it couldn’t change the fact that Lyndon Johnson was the happiest man to have ever been defeated in a Presidential election. Now the work for the next election could begin in earnest, and Sam Rayburn, Speaker of the House, would be his first call.
The Driskill Hotel, Austin, Texas
“For those of you just now joining us…,” John Chancellor's voice came from the television speakers. “We again take you to the popular vote board, where for the first time we are placing the ‘V’ as we say in front of Vice President Nixon’s name on the election board here. As most I am sure remember, last night we placed our emphasis on the importance of one state, the Vice President’s own state, the state of California. The race there was very close, it went back and forth most of the night last night and many will recall that we even reported late last night that Senator Kennedy had begun to pull ahead. But as of this morning, we are reporting that the Vice President has retaken the lead in his home state, and done it surprisingly so. What votes remain to be counted are believed to be from the precincts already heavily favored to Mr. Nixon. That being said, and with the lead now held, we are calling the state of California for Mr. Nixon.”
Lyndon Johnson, sitting alone in the hotel suite’s living room, was unsure how to feel. More accurately, he was unsure of how he wanted others to think he felt. His guilty prayer had been answered; Kennedy would not be setting foot anywhere near the White House and he would not be trapped in the powerless purgatory of a Vice Presidency. Despite this, he still had reason to publicly celebrate given that he had destroyed John Tower in the Senate election. This fact gave him a partial explanation for why he had opened the victory champagne last night and was now finishing the third bottle.
“It really is all said and done then for this Presidential election. The election of 1960. The only real matter now is the wait to hear from Vice President Nixon, we’re told he will appear before the crowd at the Ambassador Hotel in California shortly. However, we take you now to the Hyannis Armory in Massachusetts, where Senator Kennedy arrived some moments ago. This was, I’m sure, not the speech he had hoped to be making. Much of the ropes there for crowd control are not as crowded as I’m sure they otherwise would have been. He should be taking the stage any… and there he is, Senator Kennedy…”
Johnson’s eyes sparkled with twisted delight as he watched Kennedy take the stage with Jackie, both of them flanked with other members of their staff and family members. They both seemed cold and distant toward one another. The voices of the newscasters faded out as he polished off his glass and watched them gather on stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen…,” Kennedy said, without looking up from his notes. “I have sent the following wire to Vice President Nixon. The wire reads: Vice President Nixon, I would like to present you my sincerest congratulations on a fine victory. I know that the nation can continue to count on your leadership and unswerving loyalty over these next four years, whatever may come. Know that you will have the united support of all Americans as you champion the great causes of this nation in the years ahead. Signed Sincerely, John Kennedy.”
Kennedy turned to the next page in his notes, smiled out at the cameras, and continued to read. The crowd, once cheering his arrival, shifted to one of audible disappointment as he did so. To that, Kennedy raised a hand and again began to read.
“As I have every day throughout this campaign, I want to extend my hopes and prayers that the next four years be those of movement and prosperity for our nation. To that end, let us not hold feelings of discontent or malice, but feelings of hope. Let us all, as Americans, look to the future. Through these next four years let us have the belief that we as a country… can stand united and face any fear… stand strong and fight any battle… and stand free and show the world the greatness in all Americans. The American people have spoken, and the man to lead us through these next few years… is Vice President Nixon. In that spirit, I hereby concede the election for the Presidency of the United States to Mr. Nixon. I shall return to Washington to fulfill my duties as Senator for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and will to the utmost of my abilities continue to be of service. I would like to thank anyone… and everyone… who has supported this campaign, especially the efforts of the staff, my brother Robert, and Senator Johnson," The very mention of Johnson's name caused a noticeable flash of anger to shoot across Bobby's face as he sat in support. "Your work has been greatly appreciated and your service carried a great deal of importance. And to all others out there today, Jackie and I thank you…”
“We didn’t want to cut the Senator’s statements short,” said one of the newscasters as the footage cut from Kennedy to that of a full crowd. “but we are now aware that Vice President Nixon, now President Elect, is making his way through the ballroom at the Ambassador Hotel and up to the stage. The crowd here is uproarious…”
Chants of ‘We Want Nixon’ filled the speakers in Johnson’s hotel room and caused his smile to briefly turn. He quickly stood from his chair, switched off the television, and went to shave. Revolting as it was, it couldn’t change the fact that Lyndon Johnson was the happiest man to have ever been defeated in a Presidential election. Now the work for the next election could begin in earnest, and Sam Rayburn, Speaker of the House, would be his first call.
Bobby Kennedy is going to go all in and kneecapping LBJ as soon as the opportunity presents itself. A wild thought I had envisions Bobby prosecuting Johnson for his involvement in the Bobby Baker scandal.
But I eagerly await future instalments!
But I eagerly await future instalments!