Sometimes it takes a while for a journalist’s big-deal scoops to be confirmed, on the record.
Here’s one about how a pol who was both famous and infamous schemed to create his own crowd-taunting, violence-inciting, sympathy-evoking last-minute October surprise way of ending a campaign. It only took me a half-century to get it all officially confirmed.
But it came with a bonus: I’ve also finally confirmed my on-the-spot decision as a young Newsday correspondent to give away our prized scoop by sharing it with all my competitors — to ensure that all America could learn the truth before Election Day.
Yes, we’re talking about Richard Nixon, pre-Watergate. Specifically: The 1970 night Nixon schemed to end his 22-state midterm campaign to elect Republicans by playing his I’m-just-an-innocent-victim card. (Sound familiar?)
FLASHBACK: It is Saturday night before Tuesday’s election. Nixon is making his final midterm campaign speech in the San Jose Civic Auditorium before flying down to his San Clemente, California, home. Outside, a huge crowd of anti-war protesters is pounding on the doors and chanting “1, 2, 3, 4. We don’t want your f---ing war!” Remember: This is just two years after Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy were assassinated. So I decide to miss the press bus motorcade to make sure Nixon safely enters his armored limo, just in case violence erupts. I am standing beside Nixon’s limo with my notepad and new micro-cassette recorder in my left hand when Nixon approaches with his chief of staff, H.R. (Bob) Haldeman, and Haldeman’s young deputy, Dwight Chapin. Shouting protesters are about 40 yards away.
Suddenly Nixon climbs onto the limo’s hood. Grinning, he raises his arms, flashes his trademark double “V” signs at protesters — and says to his aides through clenched teeth: “That’s what they hate to see.”
Then Nixon climbs down and enters his limo. As the limo and motorcade drive off, the protesters begin pelting the vehicles with rocks and also eggs (not indigenous to most parking lots). Nixon’s limo is dented; some car and press bus windows are shattered. They are gone.
I use an auditorium pay phone to dictate my story to Newsday’s Long Island, New York, newsroom — including what Nixon said as he taunted the protesters. Soon presidential aides will issue a Nixon statement condemning “the viciousness of the lawless elements of our society.” The aides will insist Nixon thought he was merely greeting friendly supporters. Newsday readers will know better — but I know it will take all weekend for that truth to make it back across the country.
I see my friend Stu Loory of the Los Angeles Times on another pay phone dictating his story. I share my scoop with him. Stu re-dictates a new top for his piece. Outside, I flag down a car, pay the driver $100 for a fast ride to the airport. I’m the last to board the press plane. My colleagues have already filed their reports. Grabbing the flight attendant’s microphone, I share my scoop — and they race off the plane to re-file new stories. In the front row, deputy press secretary Gerald Warren glares daggers at me — and glares daggers at my new micro-cassette recorder I’m still holding.
Newsday had lost a scoop. Democracy was served.
FAST FORWARD (just a bit): In 1975, Nixon’s speechwriter William Safire wrote dismissively about my account of that San Jose incident in his memoir, “Before the Fall.” He wrote that no other reporter or aide heard that “murmured” quotation amid the tumult. But Jerry Warren had seen me displaying my micro-cassette recorder — and the Nixon team didn’t dare deny Nixon said that quote.
SUPER-FAST FORWARD: This year, that once-young Haldeman aide Dwight Chapin wrote about the San Jose incident at length in his revealing memoir, “The President’s Man.” Holy Safire! Chapin writes that he and Haldeman figured the San Jose protest would be an “opportunity for the television cameras to capture the violence.” Chapin says he told Nixon if he paused in front of the demonstrators, they “will start screaming at us.” Nixon did it — and more. Before the speech, Nixon also flashed his “V” signs to inflame the crowd. After the speech, when Nixon climbed atop the hood and flashed his “V” signs, Chapin writes that he heard Nixon say: “This is what they hate to see!” Close enough.
Buying that micro-cassette recorder was one of the smartest things I ever did. The only thing smarter might have been if I had actually turned the damn thing on before that stunning moment when Nixon climbed atop his limo’s hood.
Note to self: Do that next time.
