A Man Is Finished When He Quits - The Early Presidency of Richard M. Nixon
- Thread starter SargentHawk
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Kneecap might be an understatement... I'm just gonna post this quote here.
Hoping for Jack to win 1968 only to see his health plummet as the 1960s progresses. Watching an unholy union of Nixon and Johnson. Seeing troops sent to die in Southeast Asia. Blaming the issues of the 1960s on Nixon.And wins in 1968
How? He won't be Attorney General or even a District Attorney.
Hence why it’s a wild thought. But I imagine him doing something to stick the knife into LBJ when the moment is right, certainly.
Maybe a national bestseller book about "Inside the 1960 Campaign" that smears Johnson and Nixon?
It doesn't have to be, though. Its just more a thought on ways to play with Bobby's character development. OTL, the tragedy of 1963 made him reassess his life and evolve into this introspective person who navigated the pell mell of life with some moderation and serenity. So the idea of him going the complete other way is the tantalizing idea.
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kham_coc
Banned
Well I mean he could be - He wouldn't take the job from his brother, but, he presumably would take it from Nixon, if he offered it.
If a Democrat who isn't LBJ wins in '64, RFK could be made a US Attorney. If you delay Walter Jenkins' arrest to 1965, and then you have Johnson (at this point still a Senator) try and get involved with the investigation to help Jenkins, you could see RFK build some sort of corruption case around Johnson -- and you get bonus points because the original crime is Jenkins' soliciting a man in a public restroom, which RFK's Catholicism would brush up against
So with the situation with Nixon and MLK's arrest playing out differently ITTL, I wonder what kind of action he would push for on civil rights. Ive always thought it would be more likely to see a strong voting rights bill happen before the civil rights act just because conservative republicans like Goldwater likely would have no objections to a voting rights bill.
Chapter 2: The Intermission
Thursday, December 29th, 1960
Forest Lane, Washington D.C.
Only twenty-one days were left before the Presidency and seven weeks had passed since the election. Since that victorious morning, Nixon had spent nearly every waking moment sitting with advisors, meeting with potential appointees, and attending presidential briefings for the vast amount of issues that the nation was currently facing. In many ways, the cabinet of his first term was shaping up to be one of experienced and seasoned men. Robert Anderson would remain in place as the Secretary of the Treasury, a move calculated to allow for as little of an interruption there as possible. Christian Herter, the current Secretary of State, would be replaced by Mead Alcorn, the former Chairman of the Republican National Committee. Paul Nitze, a father of modern US Foreign Policy and global diplomatic tactics would be placed in the role of Secretary of Defense. Even with these selections, there still remained much work to do, with some of the most important decisions yet to be made.
In Nixon’s Washington D.C. home on Forest Lane, he and Robert Finch, whom Nixon had almost immediately tapped to be his White House Chief of Staff, continued the selection process.
“About this promise Henry made…,” Nixon said as he let out a deep sigh all while not bothering to bring his head up from a list of presumptive candidates. “Who are we looking at? And what position…”
“I did have some staff members draft up this list of what we believe to be potential suitors,” Finch answered. “Its not the longest list as you might imagine. Given that the promise was to place a negro on the cabinet, we must be cautious to nominate an individual with not only an outstanding resume, but one that stands above and beyond any other normal candidate that would be selected for the position. In other words, who is both colored and vastly overqualified for the position?”
“Might I add that as one of my first acts as President, I am having to piss off the entire Southern United States because Henry can’t keep his mouth shut. Which is going to make passing legislation a walk in the goddamn park, Bob. I mean, what in the hell was he thinking. It’s not like I can just backtrack on something like that. Not that I want to, mind you. This just… makes things difficult right out of the goddamn gate. Ike, you know, he’s never been one for upsetting the balance of things, and he’s like that to a fault. I don’t agree with him on that and a lot of things between you and me, but this… this is rocking the boat before I’m even in it.”
As Nixon finished, he rocked his shoulders trying to rid himself of the tension in his upper back and shifted in his chair to sit up with more attention. As he did so, Finch pulled out a folder from a larger stack of files, each containing candidates.
“Might I make the suggestion in particular of Ralph Bunche, he’s been particularly suggested by several on the team. He’s respectable, refined and not very loud. That and word through the grapevine is that King and some other leaders in the Rights movement view him as a likely candidate as well. After Henry’s statement there’s been a lot of discussion and Bunche here shows up quite a bit.”
“Remind me again of his qualifications if you can Bob... Sorry, I've been staring at names all morning,” Nixon said. Running his fingers over his ear to fix his hair.
“He's a member of the board and a trustee of several schools…” Finch started. “He was involved with the Dumbarton Oaks Conference in ‘44. And played a role in the drafting of the UN Charter in that same vein…”
“Okay,” Nixon said, his eyes showing more interest. “Bunche… Bunche might not be so bad.”
“… He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in ‘50…,” Finch continued after turning to the next page. “…served in several capacities at the United Nations in direct service of the Secretary General. He fits incredibly well. Especially in the ways of education. Health Education and Welfare seems to be screaming his name, but we’ve already announced Fleming is staying on.
“Now, he certainly meets the overqualified portion. I do think you’re right,” Nixon said, circling Bunches name and writing notes out to the side on his yellow legal pad. “Out of any position that we could get away with posting him to, that might be the one where he can achieve the most. I hate to maybe piss off Arthur, but let’s go ahead and move him off Health Education and Welfare. I know we have already promised him about staying on given his support during the campaign and for continuity sake, but I’m sure we can get him to understand. Let’s slide him over to… to Agriculture.”
“Okay, I’ll give him a call when we’re done. Now, the confirmation for Bunche, he’s far from the loudest, but he has been a vocal supporter for the Rights movement, so it will be like trying to walk through machine gun fire, but in the end, he’s more subdued on that than others… so I think we should be able to get him confirmed… Its not like we’re trying to hand Martin King Secretary of State.”
“Well if we can’t do this we might as well give up and go home now. Some are going to be vocal, and my bet is on Thurmond leading the whole lot of them for the attention alone. That bastard. It really would have been nice to have avoided that coming in.”
“And we are sure about James Mitchell for Secretary of Labor?
“Yes, Mitchell stays” Nixon replied while letting a smirk onto his face. “He’s been more than vocal about wanting to stay on and he has a reputation of being attentive, hardworking, and above all, he can be an absolute pain in the ass. Meaning he is just the type that can get that job done. I don’t have any real desire to change horses there. Speaking of which lets go ahead and set Seaton staying on in concrete as well. I talked with him yesterday morning.”
At that both simultaneously looked over the dining room table that they sat at. Although they had begun this process over a month ago in his study, Nixon’s desk had proven too small for all the files they were looking over. Which is why they had laid siege to the dining room. It was almost three in the afternoon now, and like most days in recent memory they had been at this since seven this morning.
“I also talked with Prescott last night…,” Nixon began. “...and he assured me that he would rather remain in the Senate despite everyone’s best efforts. Which I can’t hold him against. He's been talking about retiring recently, so its easy to understand that he wouldn't want to be trapped into a position over here. It is a shame though. I would have liked him in the cabinet. Bush would have made an excellent…”
Nixon was nearing the end of his sentence when the phone behind him started to ring. He raised his finger up toward Finch and stood up from his chair to grab it.
“Hello?,” Nixon said, listening for the response. Finch could hear a voice coming in over the line, but wasn’t able to make a distinction, let alone follow along with the conversation.
“Thank you, Yes, and I want you to know…I want to emphasize the fact, that I do think you’re the best man for the job. You were the first one that came to mind, and at this point going forward I don’t really see any other candidates as to who I want in the position,” Nixon paused for a few moments as if interrupted. “Now I know from talking with you during the convention, and before, that you weren’t interested in just playing the role of a simple advisor. I want it made incredibly clear that that is not what this is going to be, I need someone with vision and I know you’re the man for that job…”
As Nixon fell silent again to listen to the inaudible response, Finch clasped his hands together and leaned forward.
“Yes, I’m glad to hear that. I think that we can to… and thank you. We’re on the cusp of bringing about that next step of progress in the world. I’m glad to have you on board. Give my best wishes to the family. Okay… Thank you… Okay. bye.”
“Rockefeller finally come around?,” Finch asked.
“No, George Kennan. I had a pretty long conversation with him last night, but he said he needed to talk it over with the family before I’d get a concrete answer” Nixon said as he sat back down in his chair, “He’s going to be a fantastic National Security Advisor. Nelson… on the other hand, I’m done asking him to join this administration in any capacity. I asked him to be my Vice President at the convention, he said no. I asked him to be my Secretary of State, he said no again. I called a third time and I didn’t get past the secretary. He can languish in New York until he dies for all I care.”
“That’s great though, Kennan for National Security Advisor. Nitze for Defense. They’ve both been received well in the murmurings and rumor mills.”
“Absolutely.” Nixon said with a nod as he brushed his hair back with his index and middle finger. “And going back to Bunche for a moment…. I’m sure he is well rehearsed from the United Nations… but… I want to make sure we don’t have trip ups. Once I extend the offer I’m going to need some of the staff to sit down with him and grill him and roast him just like they are going to do in those damn confirmation hearings. I’m sure it’ll be nothing compared to what he’s dealt with before, but… just to be sure let’s do that.”
“Of course, that is assuming he’ll go for it,” Finch said, grabbing another set of papers and placing them atop the others sitting in front of him.
“Let’s make sure that he’s made aware just how important of a step this is, duty to the country, massive step in civil rights and all that…,” Nixon shot back.
“I’ll push it in that direction, word seems to suggest he’s more amenable to the offer than not though.”
“Great!,” Nixon said, slapping both hands onto the table as he stood up. “Bob, I think I’m going to call this session today, I have another line of calls needing made and I promised Pat and the girls I’d have that done by dinner tonight. We can pick this up tomorrow, we need to nail down who we’re planning on nominating to ambassador positions and downlist appointments… all of that.”
“Sounds like we’ll have another day ahead of us… But at this rate we’ll have all of the work done before you even take office,” Finch laughed as he stood up, gathering some of the files into his leather case. He looked out of the window and saw some kids walking down the street.
“You might be right… Here’s hoping we’ll at least have made some room for a few holes…,” Nixon added. “See you tomorrow Bob.”
After the exchanged pleasantries, Finch walked out of the front door and Nixon soon heard the noise of his car leaving the driveway. Momentarily left alone at the home, Pat and the girls were out, he opened his hands and dusted them off before putting them to his hips. He looked over all of the files and he couldn’t ignore the comedy in the fact that several of Eisenhower’s picks would stay on, all of the research for what amounted to very little change in several departments. He walked into the living room and sat down in his chair, kicking his feat onto the awaiting ottoman. Within seconds, Checkers had jumped up with him and sat beside his feet. At eight years old, Checkers made the move slower than in years past, but with unwavered determination.
“I suppose we’ll keep you on too…,” Nixon said as he leaned back in the chair.
---------------------------------------------------
Friday, December 30th, 1960
3307 N Street NW, Georgetown, Washington D.C.
For Jack there was very little that offered more relief in times of great stress than to set sail on the Victura, the family’s 25-foot sloop. In months as cold as December, however, this respite was unavailable to Jack. Instead of being out on the water, he found himself in nothing more than a bathrobe sitting in the living room of his Georgetown Townhouse relying on another tried and tested Kennedy method of relaxation. Jackie had chosen against the return trip to Washington in the aftermath of the election, deciding instead to stay at their home in Cape Cod for the immediate future to avoid the prying eyes of journalists. Jack hated to admit it, but he had hardly noticed her absence during the first few weeks.
His days then were filled with meetings surrounding the topic of the future of the party and the strategies going forward into the next four years of Nixon’s stewardship. This had especially been the case on the 22nd of November, when Jack Jr. made his unannounced and premature entry into the world. With the two in separate states, and with an appointment book bursting at the seams, Jack missed the surprise premature birth by over two days.
He arrived at the hospital with a peace offering, a bouquet of periwinkle-blue irises, Jackie’s favorite flower, but they did little to lighten the room. Jackie had taken special offense to his absence and all but refused to acknowledge him upon his arrival. Behavior that would have proven less of a surprise to those with the knowledge that they had only seen one another once since the day of Kennedy’s concession speech on the morning of November 9th. The atmosphere between the two of them had grown ever colder on the surface, and not even Jack Jr.’s healthy first days had proven able to warm the relationship. Within the coming days, doctor’s would label Jackie as having developed a ‘nervous condition’, and called for rest away from the prying eyes of the public. To this effect, Jack had decided to return to their Washington home and leave Jackie to recover in Cape Cod.
Now over a month since the election, the overflow of meetings and appointments had all but dried up, partially due to the holidays, but deep down Jack could sense an impending truth. One that indicated, at least for now, his time in the limelight had faded away. He had anticipated such a move to bring him dread, but with each passing day he felt more and more relief. If anything, it kept the constant peering eyes of the public out of his life.
Jack readjusted himself in the armchair, its white fabric beaming in the sunlight coming in from the window. He reached for the newspaper he had on the coffee table and winced as pain shot down his back. He straightened himself, took a deep breath, and tried once again, slowly.
His fingers gripped the page just below the picture of the President-elect and he sat back bringing the paper along with him. As he did so, he caught a quick glimpse of the half naked form in his peripheral vision.
“Do me a favor?,” He said out loud as he unfolded the paper, he paused as he listened to the footsteps across the floor and the sound of rustling clothes. He waited for a few seconds for a response although none came. “Be sure to go out the back, best that none of these silly bastards get any bright ideas and try and take pictures.”
“Thanks for this morning, See you Monday?” Judith Exner asked in an unphased tone, already knowing the answer.
“Oh of course, Monday,” Kennedy said, only sounding half interested as he turned the page.
In some ways, Kennedy couldn’t help but understand the animosity growing between Jackie and himself, after all he had grown lazy in his attempts to keep his behavior under wraps. Even during the election, as the campaign sought to craft the image of an all-american family man, it was the most well known secret in town that he preferred to share his company with more than just Jackie. Judith Exner was just one of many in a long line, except her relationship and proximity to Chicago’s Sam Giancana had made her interesting to him when Sinatra had introduced the two during the campaign. More so than any of the other girls lately, he had taken to sharing his nights in Georgetown with her. Even then, it was only this past week that he had grown brazen enough to have her stay over at the house instead of going to her hotel room.
As Kennedy finished reading the article he was only halfway committing to memory, Exner finished buttoning her blouse, and started putting on her thick overcoat.As she stared at Kennedy, the thought of her having to sneak around the White House fence in nothing but her bra and underwear made her laugh. If anything, him losing meant the townhouse was much easier to escape from. After another moment, she made her way out of the back door to perform the most basic of coverups.
Several minutes later, Kennedy folded the paper and tossed it back to the table, intending to get back to it later, and tried to get himself situated more comfortably in the chair. His back was getting worse, and his activities this morning hadn’t helped matters.
---------------------------------------------------
Wednesday, January 4th, 1961
Washington D.C.
The 87th Congress had convened just one day ago and it already looked like it would be the busiest yet in the career of Michigan’s representative for the fifth district. Gerald Ford’s desk was already littered with papers as he sat down, placing a plate with a ham and cheese sandwich down as he did so. He brought the paper up in his other hand and read the headline, ‘Nixon Supports Eisenhower On Cuba’, before taking the first bite. He had last talked to Nixon three days ago and had yet to answer the President Elect on the question he had first posed to him last Thursday. While tempting, he was still solidly riding the fence in regard to Nixon’s offer. His dream, since becoming a congressman, was to become the Speaker of the House of Representatives. To be the leader of such an esteemed body seemed like the pinnacle of success and sidestepping all of his work to be in Nixon's cabinet threw one hell of a wrench in those plans. It involved leaving the Congress and offered absolutely no guarantee or aid toward getting back once the little venture was over. He was mid-bite when the momentary silence outside his office alerted him to something out of the ordinary, and it was the door opening to show none other than the President-Elect of the United States that caused him to choke.
“Mr. Vice President…,” Ford managed to say as he shot up from his chair and struggled to swallow. He spent the next few seconds trying not to cough as he cleared his mouth.
“Oh, please. Sit.”
“I wasn’t aware that you wereup at the hill today, caught me off guard is all.”
“Yes, I thought I’d drop in before the inauguration, stop in to see some of our key figures. Shake some of the new hands, give thanks to all of the helpful contributors. You know the routine I’m sure. How’s the new year treating you so far?”
“Absolutely, we had quite the busy start yesterday, and the news of our cutting all diplomoatic ties with Cuba gave me pause especially. Not to say it was at all surprising.”
“No, that son of a bitch seems intent on pushing us as far as he can,” Nixon shook his head and frowned as he thought of Fidel Castro. “I knew he was going to be a problem the moment I met with him. I used to think that he was just a naive man, misguided about what the communist mantra actually stood for… but as we continue down this path… I’m growing more inclined to think that he might just be another maniacal dictator, or at the very least he’s intent on becoming one. A Hitler he is not, but a wannabe Mussolini… a latin Kim Il-Sung backed by that other communist beatnik and clambering for support from the Kremlin.”
“He’s certainly been a destabilizing force…,” Ford began to chime in.
“A dangerous one,” Nixon agreed. “We desperately need to restructure the relationship. Guide, push, him in the right direction and bring this situation back from the brink. The only way to deal with dictators is to be firm with them, its a lesson we’ve learned time and time again.
“So,” Ford placed both of his palms on his desk. “What brings you to my office specifically, I was expecting a more formal meeting once you had Halleck, Arends and everyone in the same space.”
“Well Jerry, I’m not going to bother beating around the bush or lying about it. I'm eager to speak with you especially, hear how you and the family are doing and the like.”
Ford sighed and sunk back into his chair, Nixon was obviously here to finally get an answer, and Ford wasn’t sure if he had one yet. “You're wanting to discuss this Attorney General business as well?”
“Well if you’re wanting to cut right to the chase, get down to brass tacks, yes Jerry I do. I’m going to need an answer in the very near future. Now don’t get me wrong, I understand you have some reservations about this whole thing. I was really hoping that we could get that cleared up here today. Better than making a call every other day anyway, don't you think.”
“I suppose so,” Ford answered back. “Look, I’ve talked this over with Betty,”
“Betty, how is she doing, I haven’t seen her in… hell.. Quite some time now that I think about it,”
“Betty?, She’s fine, I’ve talked with her about this. We both think its an honor that you’ve reached out… offered this position, hell… she’s in favor of it even, it’ll stop the constant campaigning, but in all honesty, this offer, the position of Attorney General is not where my heart is. Not where my ambition is.”
“That’s why you’re who I need Jerry,” Nixon said as he took off his coat, held it on his right arm, and took a seat. “The position of Attorney General is crucial, and I see it only growing in importance. I want someone who can respect that office and someone that I can place a hefty amount of trust in. You’re level headed, trustworthy, and you understand the importance of institution. You respect that kind of thing. That being said, I’m very well aware that you’ve never kept it a secret; you want little more than to become Speaker once all is said and done. I have that right?”
“That’s right, yes.”
“And that’s a very respectable achievement to strive for, but I would ask that you keep one thing in mind if that is truly your major hangup. The fact of the matter is, with myself taking office in under three weeks, you are looking into one hell of an uphill climb Jerry. Rayburn, he’s as solid as he’s ever been and we both know…,” Nixon sighed before finishing his sentence. “We both know that my being in office isn’t going to help the party here in Congress. At least for the foreseeable future, so even if you upset Halleck, which I’m sure you’ll accomplish eventually if you keep at it, you’d still have one hell of a time. One hell of a time.”
Ford hated to admit it, but the Vice President wasn’t wrong in his summation, it was most certainly an uphill climb, and he felt as if he had maybe a decade, maybe a decade and a half, left before he would be looking toward a retirement from the Congress. With Nixon coming into office, and the Eisenhower years to look back on, the chances of a Republican leadership in the house truly wasn’t the most likely of outcomes. Outwardly, he offered nothing verbal to Nixon beyond a nod of his head.
“Jerry, the ambition to be the head of the House, that’s fantastic. It really is. On the other hand though, I want you to seriously consider accepting this offer. To be the face and personification of justice in the United States. It really is a noble position.
‘Hell, maybe he should have gone into selling used cars, he’d have been great at it,’ Ford thought. Nixon was bringing him around to the idea, even if leaving the Congress felt abhorrent to every bone in his body. He looked at Nixon before reaching for his sandwich again and taking another bite. He chewed the concept of being Attorney General along with the ham and bread.
“Keep in mind Jerry, that the 5th district is always going to welcome you back if you decide to return to the Congress. You’ve never had a competitor come within 30% of you, and even with a sabbatical, I don’t see that changing. That being said, I’m not going to beg you to take this.”
“Let’s say I accept…,” Ford started, he was finally getting off of the fence.
Forest Lane, Washington D.C.
Only twenty-one days were left before the Presidency and seven weeks had passed since the election. Since that victorious morning, Nixon had spent nearly every waking moment sitting with advisors, meeting with potential appointees, and attending presidential briefings for the vast amount of issues that the nation was currently facing. In many ways, the cabinet of his first term was shaping up to be one of experienced and seasoned men. Robert Anderson would remain in place as the Secretary of the Treasury, a move calculated to allow for as little of an interruption there as possible. Christian Herter, the current Secretary of State, would be replaced by Mead Alcorn, the former Chairman of the Republican National Committee. Paul Nitze, a father of modern US Foreign Policy and global diplomatic tactics would be placed in the role of Secretary of Defense. Even with these selections, there still remained much work to do, with some of the most important decisions yet to be made.
In Nixon’s Washington D.C. home on Forest Lane, he and Robert Finch, whom Nixon had almost immediately tapped to be his White House Chief of Staff, continued the selection process.
“About this promise Henry made…,” Nixon said as he let out a deep sigh all while not bothering to bring his head up from a list of presumptive candidates. “Who are we looking at? And what position…”
“I did have some staff members draft up this list of what we believe to be potential suitors,” Finch answered. “Its not the longest list as you might imagine. Given that the promise was to place a negro on the cabinet, we must be cautious to nominate an individual with not only an outstanding resume, but one that stands above and beyond any other normal candidate that would be selected for the position. In other words, who is both colored and vastly overqualified for the position?”
“Might I add that as one of my first acts as President, I am having to piss off the entire Southern United States because Henry can’t keep his mouth shut. Which is going to make passing legislation a walk in the goddamn park, Bob. I mean, what in the hell was he thinking. It’s not like I can just backtrack on something like that. Not that I want to, mind you. This just… makes things difficult right out of the goddamn gate. Ike, you know, he’s never been one for upsetting the balance of things, and he’s like that to a fault. I don’t agree with him on that and a lot of things between you and me, but this… this is rocking the boat before I’m even in it.”
As Nixon finished, he rocked his shoulders trying to rid himself of the tension in his upper back and shifted in his chair to sit up with more attention. As he did so, Finch pulled out a folder from a larger stack of files, each containing candidates.
“Might I make the suggestion in particular of Ralph Bunche, he’s been particularly suggested by several on the team. He’s respectable, refined and not very loud. That and word through the grapevine is that King and some other leaders in the Rights movement view him as a likely candidate as well. After Henry’s statement there’s been a lot of discussion and Bunche here shows up quite a bit.”
“Remind me again of his qualifications if you can Bob... Sorry, I've been staring at names all morning,” Nixon said. Running his fingers over his ear to fix his hair.
“He's a member of the board and a trustee of several schools…” Finch started. “He was involved with the Dumbarton Oaks Conference in ‘44. And played a role in the drafting of the UN Charter in that same vein…”
“Okay,” Nixon said, his eyes showing more interest. “Bunche… Bunche might not be so bad.”
“… He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in ‘50…,” Finch continued after turning to the next page. “…served in several capacities at the United Nations in direct service of the Secretary General. He fits incredibly well. Especially in the ways of education. Health Education and Welfare seems to be screaming his name, but we’ve already announced Fleming is staying on.
“Now, he certainly meets the overqualified portion. I do think you’re right,” Nixon said, circling Bunches name and writing notes out to the side on his yellow legal pad. “Out of any position that we could get away with posting him to, that might be the one where he can achieve the most. I hate to maybe piss off Arthur, but let’s go ahead and move him off Health Education and Welfare. I know we have already promised him about staying on given his support during the campaign and for continuity sake, but I’m sure we can get him to understand. Let’s slide him over to… to Agriculture.”
“Okay, I’ll give him a call when we’re done. Now, the confirmation for Bunche, he’s far from the loudest, but he has been a vocal supporter for the Rights movement, so it will be like trying to walk through machine gun fire, but in the end, he’s more subdued on that than others… so I think we should be able to get him confirmed… Its not like we’re trying to hand Martin King Secretary of State.”
“Well if we can’t do this we might as well give up and go home now. Some are going to be vocal, and my bet is on Thurmond leading the whole lot of them for the attention alone. That bastard. It really would have been nice to have avoided that coming in.”
“And we are sure about James Mitchell for Secretary of Labor?
“Yes, Mitchell stays” Nixon replied while letting a smirk onto his face. “He’s been more than vocal about wanting to stay on and he has a reputation of being attentive, hardworking, and above all, he can be an absolute pain in the ass. Meaning he is just the type that can get that job done. I don’t have any real desire to change horses there. Speaking of which lets go ahead and set Seaton staying on in concrete as well. I talked with him yesterday morning.”
At that both simultaneously looked over the dining room table that they sat at. Although they had begun this process over a month ago in his study, Nixon’s desk had proven too small for all the files they were looking over. Which is why they had laid siege to the dining room. It was almost three in the afternoon now, and like most days in recent memory they had been at this since seven this morning.
“I also talked with Prescott last night…,” Nixon began. “...and he assured me that he would rather remain in the Senate despite everyone’s best efforts. Which I can’t hold him against. He's been talking about retiring recently, so its easy to understand that he wouldn't want to be trapped into a position over here. It is a shame though. I would have liked him in the cabinet. Bush would have made an excellent…”
Nixon was nearing the end of his sentence when the phone behind him started to ring. He raised his finger up toward Finch and stood up from his chair to grab it.
“Hello?,” Nixon said, listening for the response. Finch could hear a voice coming in over the line, but wasn’t able to make a distinction, let alone follow along with the conversation.
“Thank you, Yes, and I want you to know…I want to emphasize the fact, that I do think you’re the best man for the job. You were the first one that came to mind, and at this point going forward I don’t really see any other candidates as to who I want in the position,” Nixon paused for a few moments as if interrupted. “Now I know from talking with you during the convention, and before, that you weren’t interested in just playing the role of a simple advisor. I want it made incredibly clear that that is not what this is going to be, I need someone with vision and I know you’re the man for that job…”
As Nixon fell silent again to listen to the inaudible response, Finch clasped his hands together and leaned forward.
“Yes, I’m glad to hear that. I think that we can to… and thank you. We’re on the cusp of bringing about that next step of progress in the world. I’m glad to have you on board. Give my best wishes to the family. Okay… Thank you… Okay. bye.”
“Rockefeller finally come around?,” Finch asked.
“No, George Kennan. I had a pretty long conversation with him last night, but he said he needed to talk it over with the family before I’d get a concrete answer” Nixon said as he sat back down in his chair, “He’s going to be a fantastic National Security Advisor. Nelson… on the other hand, I’m done asking him to join this administration in any capacity. I asked him to be my Vice President at the convention, he said no. I asked him to be my Secretary of State, he said no again. I called a third time and I didn’t get past the secretary. He can languish in New York until he dies for all I care.”
“That’s great though, Kennan for National Security Advisor. Nitze for Defense. They’ve both been received well in the murmurings and rumor mills.”
“Absolutely.” Nixon said with a nod as he brushed his hair back with his index and middle finger. “And going back to Bunche for a moment…. I’m sure he is well rehearsed from the United Nations… but… I want to make sure we don’t have trip ups. Once I extend the offer I’m going to need some of the staff to sit down with him and grill him and roast him just like they are going to do in those damn confirmation hearings. I’m sure it’ll be nothing compared to what he’s dealt with before, but… just to be sure let’s do that.”
“Of course, that is assuming he’ll go for it,” Finch said, grabbing another set of papers and placing them atop the others sitting in front of him.
“Let’s make sure that he’s made aware just how important of a step this is, duty to the country, massive step in civil rights and all that…,” Nixon shot back.
“I’ll push it in that direction, word seems to suggest he’s more amenable to the offer than not though.”
“Great!,” Nixon said, slapping both hands onto the table as he stood up. “Bob, I think I’m going to call this session today, I have another line of calls needing made and I promised Pat and the girls I’d have that done by dinner tonight. We can pick this up tomorrow, we need to nail down who we’re planning on nominating to ambassador positions and downlist appointments… all of that.”
“Sounds like we’ll have another day ahead of us… But at this rate we’ll have all of the work done before you even take office,” Finch laughed as he stood up, gathering some of the files into his leather case. He looked out of the window and saw some kids walking down the street.
“You might be right… Here’s hoping we’ll at least have made some room for a few holes…,” Nixon added. “See you tomorrow Bob.”
After the exchanged pleasantries, Finch walked out of the front door and Nixon soon heard the noise of his car leaving the driveway. Momentarily left alone at the home, Pat and the girls were out, he opened his hands and dusted them off before putting them to his hips. He looked over all of the files and he couldn’t ignore the comedy in the fact that several of Eisenhower’s picks would stay on, all of the research for what amounted to very little change in several departments. He walked into the living room and sat down in his chair, kicking his feat onto the awaiting ottoman. Within seconds, Checkers had jumped up with him and sat beside his feet. At eight years old, Checkers made the move slower than in years past, but with unwavered determination.
“I suppose we’ll keep you on too…,” Nixon said as he leaned back in the chair.
---------------------------------------------------
Friday, December 30th, 1960
3307 N Street NW, Georgetown, Washington D.C.
For Jack there was very little that offered more relief in times of great stress than to set sail on the Victura, the family’s 25-foot sloop. In months as cold as December, however, this respite was unavailable to Jack. Instead of being out on the water, he found himself in nothing more than a bathrobe sitting in the living room of his Georgetown Townhouse relying on another tried and tested Kennedy method of relaxation. Jackie had chosen against the return trip to Washington in the aftermath of the election, deciding instead to stay at their home in Cape Cod for the immediate future to avoid the prying eyes of journalists. Jack hated to admit it, but he had hardly noticed her absence during the first few weeks.
His days then were filled with meetings surrounding the topic of the future of the party and the strategies going forward into the next four years of Nixon’s stewardship. This had especially been the case on the 22nd of November, when Jack Jr. made his unannounced and premature entry into the world. With the two in separate states, and with an appointment book bursting at the seams, Jack missed the surprise premature birth by over two days.
He arrived at the hospital with a peace offering, a bouquet of periwinkle-blue irises, Jackie’s favorite flower, but they did little to lighten the room. Jackie had taken special offense to his absence and all but refused to acknowledge him upon his arrival. Behavior that would have proven less of a surprise to those with the knowledge that they had only seen one another once since the day of Kennedy’s concession speech on the morning of November 9th. The atmosphere between the two of them had grown ever colder on the surface, and not even Jack Jr.’s healthy first days had proven able to warm the relationship. Within the coming days, doctor’s would label Jackie as having developed a ‘nervous condition’, and called for rest away from the prying eyes of the public. To this effect, Jack had decided to return to their Washington home and leave Jackie to recover in Cape Cod.
Now over a month since the election, the overflow of meetings and appointments had all but dried up, partially due to the holidays, but deep down Jack could sense an impending truth. One that indicated, at least for now, his time in the limelight had faded away. He had anticipated such a move to bring him dread, but with each passing day he felt more and more relief. If anything, it kept the constant peering eyes of the public out of his life.
Jack readjusted himself in the armchair, its white fabric beaming in the sunlight coming in from the window. He reached for the newspaper he had on the coffee table and winced as pain shot down his back. He straightened himself, took a deep breath, and tried once again, slowly.
His fingers gripped the page just below the picture of the President-elect and he sat back bringing the paper along with him. As he did so, he caught a quick glimpse of the half naked form in his peripheral vision.
“Do me a favor?,” He said out loud as he unfolded the paper, he paused as he listened to the footsteps across the floor and the sound of rustling clothes. He waited for a few seconds for a response although none came. “Be sure to go out the back, best that none of these silly bastards get any bright ideas and try and take pictures.”
“Thanks for this morning, See you Monday?” Judith Exner asked in an unphased tone, already knowing the answer.
“Oh of course, Monday,” Kennedy said, only sounding half interested as he turned the page.
In some ways, Kennedy couldn’t help but understand the animosity growing between Jackie and himself, after all he had grown lazy in his attempts to keep his behavior under wraps. Even during the election, as the campaign sought to craft the image of an all-american family man, it was the most well known secret in town that he preferred to share his company with more than just Jackie. Judith Exner was just one of many in a long line, except her relationship and proximity to Chicago’s Sam Giancana had made her interesting to him when Sinatra had introduced the two during the campaign. More so than any of the other girls lately, he had taken to sharing his nights in Georgetown with her. Even then, it was only this past week that he had grown brazen enough to have her stay over at the house instead of going to her hotel room.
As Kennedy finished reading the article he was only halfway committing to memory, Exner finished buttoning her blouse, and started putting on her thick overcoat.As she stared at Kennedy, the thought of her having to sneak around the White House fence in nothing but her bra and underwear made her laugh. If anything, him losing meant the townhouse was much easier to escape from. After another moment, she made her way out of the back door to perform the most basic of coverups.
Several minutes later, Kennedy folded the paper and tossed it back to the table, intending to get back to it later, and tried to get himself situated more comfortably in the chair. His back was getting worse, and his activities this morning hadn’t helped matters.
---------------------------------------------------
Wednesday, January 4th, 1961
Washington D.C.
The 87th Congress had convened just one day ago and it already looked like it would be the busiest yet in the career of Michigan’s representative for the fifth district. Gerald Ford’s desk was already littered with papers as he sat down, placing a plate with a ham and cheese sandwich down as he did so. He brought the paper up in his other hand and read the headline, ‘Nixon Supports Eisenhower On Cuba’, before taking the first bite. He had last talked to Nixon three days ago and had yet to answer the President Elect on the question he had first posed to him last Thursday. While tempting, he was still solidly riding the fence in regard to Nixon’s offer. His dream, since becoming a congressman, was to become the Speaker of the House of Representatives. To be the leader of such an esteemed body seemed like the pinnacle of success and sidestepping all of his work to be in Nixon's cabinet threw one hell of a wrench in those plans. It involved leaving the Congress and offered absolutely no guarantee or aid toward getting back once the little venture was over. He was mid-bite when the momentary silence outside his office alerted him to something out of the ordinary, and it was the door opening to show none other than the President-Elect of the United States that caused him to choke.
“Mr. Vice President…,” Ford managed to say as he shot up from his chair and struggled to swallow. He spent the next few seconds trying not to cough as he cleared his mouth.
“Oh, please. Sit.”
“I wasn’t aware that you wereup at the hill today, caught me off guard is all.”
“Yes, I thought I’d drop in before the inauguration, stop in to see some of our key figures. Shake some of the new hands, give thanks to all of the helpful contributors. You know the routine I’m sure. How’s the new year treating you so far?”
“Absolutely, we had quite the busy start yesterday, and the news of our cutting all diplomoatic ties with Cuba gave me pause especially. Not to say it was at all surprising.”
“No, that son of a bitch seems intent on pushing us as far as he can,” Nixon shook his head and frowned as he thought of Fidel Castro. “I knew he was going to be a problem the moment I met with him. I used to think that he was just a naive man, misguided about what the communist mantra actually stood for… but as we continue down this path… I’m growing more inclined to think that he might just be another maniacal dictator, or at the very least he’s intent on becoming one. A Hitler he is not, but a wannabe Mussolini… a latin Kim Il-Sung backed by that other communist beatnik and clambering for support from the Kremlin.”
“He’s certainly been a destabilizing force…,” Ford began to chime in.
“A dangerous one,” Nixon agreed. “We desperately need to restructure the relationship. Guide, push, him in the right direction and bring this situation back from the brink. The only way to deal with dictators is to be firm with them, its a lesson we’ve learned time and time again.
“So,” Ford placed both of his palms on his desk. “What brings you to my office specifically, I was expecting a more formal meeting once you had Halleck, Arends and everyone in the same space.”
“Well Jerry, I’m not going to bother beating around the bush or lying about it. I'm eager to speak with you especially, hear how you and the family are doing and the like.”
Ford sighed and sunk back into his chair, Nixon was obviously here to finally get an answer, and Ford wasn’t sure if he had one yet. “You're wanting to discuss this Attorney General business as well?”
“Well if you’re wanting to cut right to the chase, get down to brass tacks, yes Jerry I do. I’m going to need an answer in the very near future. Now don’t get me wrong, I understand you have some reservations about this whole thing. I was really hoping that we could get that cleared up here today. Better than making a call every other day anyway, don't you think.”
“I suppose so,” Ford answered back. “Look, I’ve talked this over with Betty,”
“Betty, how is she doing, I haven’t seen her in… hell.. Quite some time now that I think about it,”
“Betty?, She’s fine, I’ve talked with her about this. We both think its an honor that you’ve reached out… offered this position, hell… she’s in favor of it even, it’ll stop the constant campaigning, but in all honesty, this offer, the position of Attorney General is not where my heart is. Not where my ambition is.”
“That’s why you’re who I need Jerry,” Nixon said as he took off his coat, held it on his right arm, and took a seat. “The position of Attorney General is crucial, and I see it only growing in importance. I want someone who can respect that office and someone that I can place a hefty amount of trust in. You’re level headed, trustworthy, and you understand the importance of institution. You respect that kind of thing. That being said, I’m very well aware that you’ve never kept it a secret; you want little more than to become Speaker once all is said and done. I have that right?”
“That’s right, yes.”
“And that’s a very respectable achievement to strive for, but I would ask that you keep one thing in mind if that is truly your major hangup. The fact of the matter is, with myself taking office in under three weeks, you are looking into one hell of an uphill climb Jerry. Rayburn, he’s as solid as he’s ever been and we both know…,” Nixon sighed before finishing his sentence. “We both know that my being in office isn’t going to help the party here in Congress. At least for the foreseeable future, so even if you upset Halleck, which I’m sure you’ll accomplish eventually if you keep at it, you’d still have one hell of a time. One hell of a time.”
Ford hated to admit it, but the Vice President wasn’t wrong in his summation, it was most certainly an uphill climb, and he felt as if he had maybe a decade, maybe a decade and a half, left before he would be looking toward a retirement from the Congress. With Nixon coming into office, and the Eisenhower years to look back on, the chances of a Republican leadership in the house truly wasn’t the most likely of outcomes. Outwardly, he offered nothing verbal to Nixon beyond a nod of his head.
“Jerry, the ambition to be the head of the House, that’s fantastic. It really is. On the other hand though, I want you to seriously consider accepting this offer. To be the face and personification of justice in the United States. It really is a noble position.
‘Hell, maybe he should have gone into selling used cars, he’d have been great at it,’ Ford thought. Nixon was bringing him around to the idea, even if leaving the Congress felt abhorrent to every bone in his body. He looked at Nixon before reaching for his sandwich again and taking another bite. He chewed the concept of being Attorney General along with the ham and bread.
“Keep in mind Jerry, that the 5th district is always going to welcome you back if you decide to return to the Congress. You’ve never had a competitor come within 30% of you, and even with a sabbatical, I don’t see that changing. That being said, I’m not going to beg you to take this.”
“Let’s say I accept…,” Ford started, he was finally getting off of the fence.
Love the checkers fans, gotta remember to include him again at some point
