Sh*t Richard says
...Henry Kissinger, Bob Ray, a nontraditional Christmas newsletter, and wisdom from an 8-year-old
We’ve added a few hundred subscribers since the last guest post by Richard Gilbert. He is Julie Gammack’s partner in all ways, including as her husband. If you want to read more columns like this, tell him in the comment section.
If you haven’t caught up with Dave Busiek’s latest column it’s a very good read. The recent Colorado Supreme Court decision saying Trump shouldn’t be on the ballot citing the 14th Amendment making an insurrectionist ineligible to hold office prompted Dave to recall a time when a prominent Iowan was ruled ineligible to run for a high office.
He was writing about Harold Hughes, but I’ll let him tell it in the link above.
Dave’s story reminded me of another Bob Ray-Harold Hughes moment which so far as I know was never widely reported.
In fact, in late 1973, when Hughes announced he would not run for a second six-year term as one of Iowa’s two U.S. Senators, there was lots of speculation that Ray, then in the last year of his third two-year term as governor would be a shoo-in for Hughes’s senate seat. Ray had not yet announced whether he’d run for another term as Iowa’ chief executive, which would be the first four-year term for that office in modern history. and instead go for the senate seat Hughes would vacate on January 3, 1975.
Governor Ray, as was his modus operandi, was gathering data prior to making a decision about his political options. So he, traveling only with his press secretary, made a day trip from DSM to DCA for a visit to the office of Senator Harold Hughes, labeled a “courtesy call”, but in reality was a chance to “try on” the surroundings of a junior senator from Iowa. This was strictly a political trip, so travel was commercial and with no accompanying state trooper in plain clothes.
While Bob Ray was having some quiet time with Harold Hughes with no staff present, his press secretary (that would be me) was having some quality time with Senator Hughes’s top aide, Dwight Jensen. Dwight, one of the real good guys, had been Hughes’s executive assistant (chief of staff) during his governorship and was press secretary for him in the Senate.
We had several interesting hours on Capitol Hill, then grabbed a cab back to Washington International (it wasn’t until years later the airport became Reagan International.)
On the United non-stop back to Des Moines we had a couple of hours to debrief. Governor Ray’s biggest takeaway was summed up to me in two sentences:
“I really can’t see why people covet being a senator so much. With so many of them there in one place it’s no wonder it takes so long to get something done.”
Then he asked me what I had concluded. “Well”, I recall telling him, the good news is a senator has a staff of maybe couple dozen people, whose sole jobs are to make him look good. The bad news is that a governor has thousands of state employees, any one of whom on any given day can make you look bad. But honestly, I think you’d be bored out of your mind.” He didn’t comment, but as was also often his practice, he didn’t reveal his decision…then.
A few weeks later, February 27, right after the morning press conference, the governor asked if there were any more questions. Hearing none, he began to pack up and head for the door, but paused. “You’ve been asking me for weeks now about my political plans and I’ve told you that when I make up my mind I’d tell you. So I want to tell you this morning that I’m going to run again and seek this office once more. And so he did, winning back-to-back four-year terms in 1974 and 1978.
DINNER WITH HENRY
Now that I’m mentioning Iowa Writers Collaborative columnists whose recent offerings have jogged my memory, here’s Julie Gammack’s piece about her connection with a notable celebrity Norman Lear who died recently at age 100. Link to Julie’s account. It got me thinking about another person of note who recently passed, also after reaching the century mark.
Henry Kissinger.
Now Kissinger was no Norman Lear, Julie, but you got admit he qualifies as pretty darn memorable.
I once shared a meal with the then Nixon national security advisor who had not yet been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for opening U.S. diplomatic relations with China.
And no, it was not a large banquet table in a ballroom setting. It was I, Henry and his new wife, Nancy, who had been an aide to New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller (who was also at the table with his also new wife, Happy) along with my dinner companion, Iowa’s beloved First Lady, Billie Ray.
I confess my dinner with Henry was serendipitous but a life highlight for me. It happened this way. As Governor Ray’s press secretary (see above) I traveled a lot with Governor and Mrs. Ray and this particular time I was the Ray aide who drew the short straw for attendance at the 1972 National Governors’ Conference winter meeting in Washington DC.
I was in my hotel room after a day of meetings getting ready to take the rest of the evening off to run around Georgetown with my press secretary buddies from some of the other states.
Then the phone rang and it was Bob Ray. “Richard”, he asked, “did you bring your tuxedo?” I knew when he called me “Richard” that something was up.
“Yes sir”, I said.
Then he said: “Well, I am really exhausted tonight and I wonder if you would mind being Billie’s escort to tonight’s dinner at the Kennedy Center?”
I immediately knew that an answer other than an enthusiastic “Yes sir!” just wasn’t going to cut it. And the truth was I did bring a tux because my Boy Scout background had taught me to always be prepared.
That evening was the big social thing for the Governors’ Conference— a swell sit-down dinner for the governors and their spouses, along with various national officials and White House types. But it was still by Washington standards a pretty small crowd. The governors were scattered around the room alphabetically so that’s how Mrs. Ray and her escort got placed at the same table as the Rockefellers. Kissinger was a former advisor to Nelson Rockefeller and so that’s why the seating arrangement happened. Nelson was his previous boss.
Billie Ray was her usual gracious self so luckily I didn’t have much of a speaking part and was just alert to make sure I didn’t spill anything on my tux or knock over a wine glass. Governor Rockefeller did most of the talking and because this was before the world knew Henry had already been to China the summer before to set up Nixon’s historic visit, Kissinger didn’t say much. Other than acknowledging that it was too bad Governor Ray couldn’t be with us, I could have been one of the wait staff at the table. They all were wearing tuxedos too.
R-RATED CHRISTMAS LETTER
On a subject totally unrelated but topical as well, are the many observances of the holiday, especially the Christmas newsletters. What used to be barely readable mimeographed tomes about how some folks spent their summer vacations have become beautifully designed websites. I still like then all. I especially look forward to those from my nieces, all educators, which not only are legible but very readable and for the most part never in need of a spell check. Special shoutout to my late sister’s daughter Sandra Abbott, a dedicated teacher of special needs kids. Love her newsletters, love her. Also look forward to the newsletter each year from Alan and Steve Mores who are carrying on a more than 50-year tradition started by their dad (and once my boss) of the annual highlights in the Mores family life who until just recently published the Harlan Newspapers.
But all of the Christmas newsletters I get cannot compare in the memorable category to one I received last year from a gifted writer who apparently used the holidays to send a message to her husband.
After about two pages of reporting the comings and goings of various family members, the writer comes to the big finale.
She wrote:
“George” (not the husband’s real name) still gets drunk at Thanksgiving and manages to pass out mid-way through the meal and his snoring keeps us from any good conversation over the turkey. I am not saying that he is a PERFECT A**hole, but he most definitely ranks a 9.5 on the Sphincter Scale.”
I was looking forward to this year’s edition of her holiday missive, but so far it hasn’t shown up. I can’t imagine why.
LESSON FROM AN 8-YEAR-OLD
And lastly this Christmas lesson. I once asked my grandson Andrew who at the time was 8 years old if he would get what he asked for at Christmas.
“Yes,” he answered.
“How can you be so sure?” I said.
“Because I am on The Good List.”
May we all be as fortunate as Andrew. Merry Christmas!
And fingers crossed, I have yet to hear Alvin and the Chipmunks this entire holiday season.
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Good one, Richard! Love the picture-I mean, come on - that face!
Merry Christmas to the G&G crew!
Brushing elbows with the now famous (a personal story). I was 17 years old, in my first day of a new job at a small town weekly. The ambitious editor was leaving, I filled a low level position as others moved up. My first name was Randy, but I hated it. Here was an opportunity to drop it and use my middle name, Robert. Whadya think? I asked the editor. "It's up to you, Bob" was his reply. I have been Bob now for 57 years. Thanks, Dick.