Known and Unknown_ A Memoir - Donald Rumsfeld [95]
CHAPTER 12
A Rocky Start
On my first day back in the White House, I moved into the chief of staff’s West Wing office, where Haldeman had presided during the height of the Nixon years and where Haig later, with Henry Kissinger, worked near miracles to hold the United States government together.
Many in the White House remained spooked by Watergate and its ghosts. In the months since Nixon’s departure, listening devices were still being found in the Oval Office and elsewhere in the White House complex. As I started to get settled in my new office, my secretary opened a desk drawer and found a tape with a note attached, designating it as “Presidential Tape—March 8, 1971.” I immediately delivered the tape to Phil Buchen, the new White House counsel, and even insisted that he sign a receipt as evidence that we had turned the tape over as soon as it had been discovered.1 Only the day before that, a safe had been discovered in the cupboard next to the fireplace in my new office.2 An uninventoried safe in Haldeman’s office could have had anything in it—papers relating to Watergate, more Nixon tapes, possibly evidence that could lead to new indictments. The mystery of the Haldeman safe was heightened when we discovered that no one knew how to open it. Wanting to make sure the safe was transferred from my office and properly handled, I asked my stalwart assistant, Dick Cheney, to accompany the safe and ensure that everything went by the book.
After all the drama, Cheney reported back that under the supervision of Secret Service agents, the safe had been blown open with explosives and was found to be empty. Still, the time and energy we wasted in taking the necessary precautions on this and many other matters were but an example of the ongoing costs of Watergate. It also helped me begin to realize that Ford’s pardon of Nixon, irrespective of the unfortunate way it was handled, might have been the right decision. The President never would have been able to move his own agenda forward as long as Nixon’s prosecution was in the offing.
In those early months, former President Nixon’s difficult adjustment to his San Clemente exile came up on my radar screen repeatedly. After he left the presidency, Nixon was extremely ill and hospitalized on a number of occasions with near fatal blood clots. Frank Gannon, who was helping Nixon with his memoirs, confided in me his hope that Nixon would live long enough to bring the book to completion.3 One of Nixon’s aides during the transition, his former press secretary, Ron Ziegler, called me several times to discuss Nixon’s predicament. During one call he told me that children on the beach were throwing “dog dirt,” to put it nicely, at Nixon’s home.4
One problem we encountered with regard to Nixon involved the growing number of people on the federal government payroll who had found their way to San Clemente. No one knew how to handle arrangements for a resigned president, but we had agreed in consultation with the Congress to allot the former president a small staff to ease his transition. We thought the number of staff hovered around twenty, but like all things involving the government, the numbers kept getting bigger. I learned during my first week on the job that Nixon’s staff had ballooned to more than sixty, meaning that the number our staff had been giving the press was wildly inaccurate. If that became public, I feared it would look like Nixon was establishing a mini-presidential operation. As I discussed the matter with Ford, who was as amazed as I was to hear of it, he said that we had to help Nixon figure out a different arrangement.5 I knew the “we” meant me. I had several difficult conversations with Ziegler, and we were able to persuade Nixon’s senior staff to reduce the size of their payroll.6
As I settled into my office, I returned to my usual routine. Most of the day I worked at a stand-up desk. I found it an easier way to keep focused over my twelve-to fifteen-hour days. I had a