Known and Unknown_ A Memoir - Donald Rumsfeld [43]
The nation felt a profound sense of loss. For some Americans, the sense of shock and grief we all shared turned to disillusionment and anger. Indeed, what I remember of the decade of the sixties—riots, demonstrations, marches, and angry protests—seemed to have its start in Dallas, Texas, on November 22, 1963. The hopes and the growing sense of grievance among millions of Americans who believed they had been cheated fell onto the shoulders of a man who seemed, in style and temperament, to be John F. Kennedy’s near polar opposite.
During my first year in the House of Representatives, I was among a group of congressmen invited by then Vice President Johnson to his home in the Spring Valley area of the District of Columbia. While his wife, Lady Bird, was the picture of graciousness and dignity, LBJ assumed his hosting duties like he did most things—with intense, backslapping, slightly over-the-top behavior.
During our visit he corralled us up for a personal tour. As he led us through his house, pointing out this memento and that, a special moment was reserved for what seemed to be his favorite room: the master bathroom. It was admittedly an impressive sight—in fact, I’d never seen a bathroom quite like it. As I recall, there were a number of contraptions built around the toilet—a mirror and lights attached to arms that pulled out, along with a magazine rack and at least one telephone. Johnson showed a Texas-sized pride in his trappings—modesty tended to elude him. He clearly relished impressing visitors with his bathroom’s operational capabilities. He also liked keeping people off balance, and suddenly being shepherded into the Vice President’s bathroom command center certainly had that effect.
To join the Kennedy ticket—a marriage of political convenience—Lyndon Johnson had left his post as the powerful Senate Majority Leader, which had made him arguably the most influential man in Washington, and became vice president, where he was not only virtually powerless, but visibly so. Johnson never seemed to fit in with the Kennedy team, and the differences in style were sometimes striking. He was a bit like a loud, slightly out-of-tune banjo being plucked in Harvard Yard. His relationships with members of the Kennedy administration, particularly Bobby Kennedy, were prickly. A proud man like Johnson must not have liked the feeling that he needed the members of the Kennedy team.
Despite his occasional coarseness, LBJ had a gift for smooth talk when it suited him. It was part of the patented Johnson treatment—his good cop–bad cop routine—in which he sometimes played both roles simultaneously. I suppose this may have been what had made him such a formidable leader of the Senate, which he managed with a mix of patronage, forcefulness, and a generous helping of guile.* When his almost shameless flattery failed him, Johnson deployed a strong arm. He was a large man, in both size and personality, and was not shy about touching people. I’d see him physically grab the arms of members of Congress he was trying to persuade. He’d wrap his massive hands around people’s shoulders and lean into them until about all they could see was his oversized earlobe next to their faces.
Because LBJ had been such an effective Senate leader, I fully expected him to be a successful president. I hoped he would be. The country was in a difficult, dangerous place and needed him to succeed. Lady Bird later reflected that she believed her husband might have been better served if he had replaced the Kennedy team with a team of his own.9 But for the most part, LBJ probably would have been better off if he had never taken the vice presidency. He might have become known as the most effective Senate leader in history. However, his congressional experience did help him realize what had to have been his most important accomplishment as president—one that many Americans thought was all but impossible. And it was by far the most important vote I cast in the United States Congress.
The issue of civil rights was not a priority