Politics Begin
I started writing essays on “Trump World” in February of 2017. This is the 501’st, and the third in a series on how I became “political.” I’m sure it’s clear where I stand now, but I wanted to let you see the “development of a political mind.” I hope you enjoy it.
The election of Nixon in 1968 started a whole new world of politics for me. Nixon promised to end the war in Vietnam with his “secret plan.” It turned out the secret plan was to stay in the war, expand it to include Cambodia and Laos, and tell America that his “silent majority” was all the support he needed (much like Trump’s base today.)
There were protests against the war, and I went with my sister to downtown Dayton to join in. I was good until the police showed up, then it was time for “flight, not fight.” Others didn’t flee violence in protest, at Kent State and Jackson State. Neil Young’s song Ohio wasn’t played on our radio, we were told that the stations didn’t dare buck Governor James Rhoades. Still, four students were dead in Ohio.
Dad got promoted to President of Syndication of Multimedia Broadcasting, selling the Phil Donahue Show, Sally Jesse Raphael, After School Specials, and Jerry Springer all over the country. We moved back to Cincinnati in 1970, living in the near suburb of Wyoming, Ohio.
One of my favorite television shows at the time was called Twelve O’Clock High. It was a series about US bombers crews stationed in England during World War II, based on the Gregory Peck movie. Flying bomber missions over Europe was one of the most dangerous duties of the War, if the Nazi anti-aircraft or fighters didn’t get you on the first mission, they’d get another chance. Crews flew twenty-five missions or more before they were allowed a reprieve.
So in 1972, I was surprised that the Democratic candidate for President, George McGovern, was portrayed by Republicans as a “softie.” McGovern, a Senator from South Dakota, flew 35 missions over Europe in World War II. He picked up the “mantle” of Robert Kennedy after the assassination in 1968, and earned the nomination over Senator Ed Muskie and former Vice President Hubert Humphrey.
It was difficult to contrast his obvious personal courage with the Nixon campaign generated image of a “softie:” soft on crime, soft on Vietnam, soft on foreign policy. And, more fodder for the Nixon campaign, McGovern was not only an anti-war Democrat, but he was an “academic elite,” with a PhD in history from Northwestern and a former professor. Vice President Agnew went after him.
Unlike the 1968 Democratic convention, 1972 was calm. Unfortunately, it took almost no time at all to screw things up after the Convention; the Vice Presidential nominee, Senator Tom Eagleton of Missouri, turned out to have undergone electro-shock treatments for depression. Eagleton resigned, and the job was offered to almost everyone in the party. Finally Sargent Shriver, former director of the Peace Corp and a Kennedy in-law, took the position.
Nixon won overwhelmingly, even McGovern’s South Dakota voted against their own Senator. Only Massachusetts went for McGovern, (leading to the bumper sticker, “Don’t Blame Me, I’m from Massachusetts”.) Nixon was back, able to continue the War, with no end in sight.
Then details of a minor incident at the Democratic Headquarters in Washington, located in the Watergate Office complex, emerged. Reporters from the Washington Post, New York Times, and other newspapers and media, traced who controlled the “plumbers,” the nickname for the Watergate burglars.
In 1973 the Senate convened the Special Committee on Watergate. Senator Sam Ervin, Democrat of North Carolina chaired, but Republican Senators like Howard Baker and Fred Thompson, both from Tennessee, were also committed to finding the truth. They methodically investigated what was going on in the Nixon Campaign, starting with the burglars, and moving up the chain into the campaign and the administration.
I was addicted to Watergate. I watched White House Counsel John Dean testify that he told Nixon; “there is a cancer on the Presidency,” and was shocked when Alexander Butterfield told that Nixon taped all conversations in the Oval Office. I was proud of Attorney General Eliot Richardson for resigning rather than fire the Special Prosecutor Archibald Cox, and derided Solictor General Robert Bork for doing Nixon’s dirty work.
Much like today, it seemed apparent that the President was “guilty” early in the process. But I learned there was a difference between what seemed obvious, that Nixon planned and paid for a cover-up and used the FBI and CIA to help hide it; and what was “provable.” By the end of 1973, it seemed like somehow, despite the truth, Nixon would weather the storm and stay in the Presidency.
1974 was my senior year in high school. My government teacher, Mr. Wagner, was a diehard Nixon fan. My “mentor,” Eve Bolton, was a first year teacher from Wooster College who campaigned for Ed Muskie in 1972. She was inspirational, we organized campaigns for local Democrats and talked about running ourselves. I got in trouble in Mr. Wagner’s class for telling a joke about Nixon, earning in-school suspension. At Wyoming High School that meant being restricted to the “teacher office area” for the day. Ms. Bolton brought me lunch.
We campaigned in “real” politics after school, and we “won” for Wyoming in academic competitions. Our model UN team “succeeded” by representing Somalia, parlaying the two things Somalia had for sale, sand and Naval bases, into UN power. Our “Social Studies Team” won the state testing competition. Eve got us all involved; when we weren’t talking about our next strategy, we were talking about Watergate.
Forty-five years later the slow drip of the Russia investigation is very much like the slow maturing of the Watergate crisis. History isn’t repeating, but it is rhyming; with hearings, Special Counsel reports, and breaking news in the media. The summer of 1974 meant the release of the tapes, iron-clad evidence of Nixon’s direct involvement in crime, and in August, he resigned. I remember watching on TV in the basement recreation room. I knew it was serious, but I still toasted the end of Richard Nixon with champagne.
I hope someday to see the end of Donald Trump. It took over two years for Watergate, and that was with a Democratic House and Senate. The clock for Trump didn’t really start ticking until the House became Democratic, so there is still a long way to go. Ultimately, I expect that the people will be the jury rather than the Senate; 2020 will decide his fate. “Raise a glass.”
The Joke (probably shouldn’t have done it on Mr. Wagner’s chalkboard):
With Three Lines – make this | | I / O | | into a crooked man with a crooked house and a crooked staff.
| | I / O | |
1. N I / O | |
2. N I X O | |
3. N I X O N
eve bolton