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| Site Index / My Book / Blog Index / Family /Wayman Communications / Benton / Christian CLICK HERE TO E-Mail US Copyright 2008 by Gordon Wayman All Rights Reserved Site Designed by WAYMAN COMMUNICATIONS |
The Day I Met Nixon
By Gordon Wayman
By Gordon Wayman
During high school, I was a big admirer of President Richard Nixon. He was President when
I was growing up and I respected him. I know he did allot of things wrong, and I don’t
excuse him for it. However, he did do some great things for our country, and I just liked the
man.
In 1978, my friend, Kent Alsobrooks, and I were planning a trip to California after our high
school graduation. While in California, there was one thing I wanted to do, and that was to
meet former President Nixon. He had resigned in 1974 and in 1978, he was in isolation.
According to reports in the media, he wasn’t seeing anyone except his close circle of
friends.
My task was not easy. How could an average high school kid get an appointment to see a
former President? First, I tried writing a letter to his office. With the letter, I poured it on
strong, how I admired him, how he had influenced my life, etc. etc. A few weeks later, I
received a nice reply, regretting that President Nixon was unable to meet with me.
I didn’t want to stop at that. So, I then wrote every politician I could think of including
Governor Jim Thompson of Illinois, Senator Charles Percy from Illinois and several U.S.
Congressmen. I asked if they would write letters on my behalf. Believe it our not, most of
them did. I mean, what did they have to lose? I waited, but heard no response from Nixon’s
office.
I then saw Senator Percy at a political function and got him in a corner. Politicians will say
anything to get a constituent off of their back! Remember that, if you ever need a politician’
s help. Senator Percy, finally, realizing he had to say something, told me to contact
Congressman Robert Michel. He said Michel was a friend of Nixon’s and that he should be
able to help me. Another point to remember, a politician will always pass the buck, if he or
she can. And Senator Percy did.
However, this gave me another angle. I then telephoned Congressman Michel’s Office and
demanded to talk to the Congressman. I told them, Senator Percy, asked that I call. Well,
there was no way the secretary was going to let me talk to the Congressman. So, I had to
explain what I wanted. She said that she would give the message to the Congressman. She
thought she could brush me off, however, she didn’t know who she was dealing with!
I called again every day for a week. When you want something, you can’t give up. Bug the
heck out of them and they will usually give in. Just ask any eight-year-old. Parents always
do for their kids, and husbands always do for their wives. So, why would a politician be any
different? Finally, they gave in.
Congressman’s Michel’s secretary told me that the Congressman was in, that she would
talk to him, and call me right back. In about 30 minutes, she called me. She indicated that
the Congressman had talked to Nixon’s office in San Clemente, California and that they
were open to the idea. She said that I should write a detailed letter to Nixon’s Chief of Staff
Col. John Brennan and she gave me a special address. She didn’t make any promises, but
the Congressman had opened the door for me. The rest was up to me.
I then wrote the letter of my life. I poured it on so strong, it looked like I worshiped the
ground that Nixon walked on. (Some people thought I already did.) I think I even
exaggerated, a little, in the letter. I mailed it that day, because, we were scheduled to leave
for California in about a week.
Five days later, I was at my parent’s home by myself, when the phone ranged. You know
who it was? It was Col. Brennan himself. He said that he had got my letter and that the
former President would see me on August 1, 1978 at 10 a.m. He then gave me their
private office number to call to confirm the time, when I arrived in California.
Wow! I was in! You can’t imagine how excited I was. There I was, an 18-year-old kid, about
to graduate from high school, and about to meet a former President of the United States in
his private home. A former President that was in isolation, who wasn’t seeing anyone, who
wasn’t giving TV interviews at the time, was going to see me.
When I told my family and friends, most people didn’t believe me. They actually thought I
was making this up. In fact, when I told one of my relatives, they said that, “How do you
know that was Nixon’s Office?” “That was probably a prank call!”
In fact, they even got me to question it. Could it really be a friend playing a joke on me?
After all, several people knew that I was trying to get the appointment. Should I call the
number they had given me to see if it was legitimate? If I called and it was, I would feel like
a fool.
So, what I did was call the phone company information. First, I asked for the number for
Richard Nixon. After they stopped laughing, they said that the number was unlisted. I then
said, I have a number, could you verify if it is Richard Nixon’s number? The operator
referred me to a supervisor.
“I’m sorry, we can’t do that, Mr. Wayman,” she said. “The security on presidential numbers
is as tight as Fort Knox.” “We don’t even have the number.” However, she did tell me that
the number I had was indeed a San Clemente, California number.
That was good enough for me. I was convinced. I was going to meet my hero.
When my friend and I arrived in San Clemente, we wanted to find a hotel close to the Nixon
estate. We had no idea where Nixon lived. We guess we would have found it one way or
the other. We stopped at one hotel, checked the price for a room, it was too high, so we
moved on. Finally, our third stop was a hotel within our budget. After checking in, I asked
the hotel clerk where Mr. Nixon lived. “His estate is just right across the road there. You
can walk!” You can call that a coincidence, but I call it fate.
The next day we called the Nixon number, the number with security as tight as Fort Knox
and they moved us to 10:30 a.m. That was cool, it didn’t make any difference to us.
That morning when we arrived, I was excited. This was the moment that I had been waiting
for. After checking in with the guard at the gate, we drove into the estate. We parked next
to his home. His office was in a separate building next to the residence, which was called
“La Casa Pacifica.” It was the most beautiful estate I had ever seen.
We walked into the office to find another guard. It was an U.S. Marshall. He motioned us to
the secretary. (The secretary had a broken nose at the time, which I know is not at all
relevant to the story, but I thought it was interesting. She had a big bandage tapped on her
nose. I asked her what happened to her nose. She replied that she “broke it.” Well, I
already knew that, I guess, but I had to ask anyway.) Nevertheless, she was very nice and
asked us to have a seat. “The President would be with you shortly,” she said. Boy, I liked
the sound of that. In fact, I’ll say it again; “The President would be with you shortly.” How
often do you hear that sentence?
A few minutes later, another couple walked into the office. I found out later that the
gentleman was a member of the British Parliament. The lady was his wife.
We got called to go in first. As I walked in, my heart almost stopped, there he was Richard
Nixon, the 37th President of the United States of America. He walked toward me, shook my
hand and I said, “It’s great to meet you, Mr. President!” For some strange reason, the man
made me feel comfortable right away. A great calmness swept all over me. I just sit there
and begin talking to him, as if I had known him for years. In fact, he did the same to me. I
think we hit it off, because we talked for nearly an hour while a member of the British
Parliament was waiting in the room next door. Boy, did I feel important.
I asked him a lot of questions about his activities. He gave me a lot of advice. I asked him
about China, about the Vietnam War, about the draft. He asked me about Illinois politics
and about my future. One advice he gave me was, “Don’t be afraid to take chances. Those
who take chances and lose are far better off than those who don’t take chances at all.”
At another point, he told us to “remember Lot’s wife (from the Bible). Learn from your
mistakes and don’t look back.” Oh, what good advice. He also stated that he knew what I
went through to get the appointment to see him. He said that he got hundreds of requests
each week and that he appreciated my eagerness and consistency. “You were
determined,” he said, “and I like that.”
I told him that I had went to visit his boyhood home in Yorba Linda, California the previous
day but was disappointed because I wasn’t allowed to go inside. He apologized and said
that an innkeeper lived there and it wasn’t open for tours. (Footnote: Today it is. It’s the
home of the Nixon Library and Birthplace. Mr. and Mrs. Nixon are also buried there. ) He
then said, “Maybe I can make it up to you. Would you like a tour of our estate here?” Of
course, you know what the answer was.
He then called in one of his aides and asked him to take us on a tour. Before we left, he
gave me a book he wrote and a presidential pen used for signing bills. He also signed
several autographs for me.
While I was standing there waiting for the aide to come in, Mr. Nixon asked his secretary if
the Member of Parliament was there and waiting. She said he was. Nixon asked how long
he had waited. “For nearly an hour, Mr. President.” His response was, “Oh, no!” Even a
former president hates to have people wait. How come our medical doctors care less? Our
doctors should take some lessons from this former president.
At that time, Mr. Nixon’s dog ran into the office, jumped on me and started licking me in the
face. “He likes you!” Nixon said. He went on to apologize for the dog. I told him that I loved
dogs and no apology was needed.
As we departed, I told Nixon that I hoped to see him again some day. His response to me
was, “Well, The next time I’m in Southern Illinois, I’ll look you up.” With that, we shook
hands again, and I left the office.
His aide then escorted us outside to the “Richard Nixon Golf Cart,” where we would tour
the estate. Apparently, Nixon used it to drive himself back and forth from the main house to
the office. The aide drove us all around and showed us the pool, the living room and the
main entrance. You name it, we saw it.
At one point we were driving and a guard up ahead blew a whistle and made a hand
motion. Our driver immediately stopped and turned around. I asked what was going on. He
said that Pat Nixon was working in the flower garden up ahead and would prefer not to
greet visitors while she was dressed with her jeans and a sweatshirt. I quickly turned and
looked. I did catch a glimpse of her, bent down, working in the flower garden.
With that, we left the estate. We had many pictures and a great memory. The man went
the extra mile to treat us like we were important. I will never forget that day in August of
1978.
The Above Story is from my book,
While You Do Your Business.
Order by book by clicking on the book.
I was growing up and I respected him. I know he did allot of things wrong, and I don’t
excuse him for it. However, he did do some great things for our country, and I just liked the
man.
In 1978, my friend, Kent Alsobrooks, and I were planning a trip to California after our high
school graduation. While in California, there was one thing I wanted to do, and that was to
meet former President Nixon. He had resigned in 1974 and in 1978, he was in isolation.
According to reports in the media, he wasn’t seeing anyone except his close circle of
friends.
My task was not easy. How could an average high school kid get an appointment to see a
former President? First, I tried writing a letter to his office. With the letter, I poured it on
strong, how I admired him, how he had influenced my life, etc. etc. A few weeks later, I
received a nice reply, regretting that President Nixon was unable to meet with me.
I didn’t want to stop at that. So, I then wrote every politician I could think of including
Governor Jim Thompson of Illinois, Senator Charles Percy from Illinois and several U.S.
Congressmen. I asked if they would write letters on my behalf. Believe it our not, most of
them did. I mean, what did they have to lose? I waited, but heard no response from Nixon’s
office.
I then saw Senator Percy at a political function and got him in a corner. Politicians will say
anything to get a constituent off of their back! Remember that, if you ever need a politician’
s help. Senator Percy, finally, realizing he had to say something, told me to contact
Congressman Robert Michel. He said Michel was a friend of Nixon’s and that he should be
able to help me. Another point to remember, a politician will always pass the buck, if he or
she can. And Senator Percy did.
However, this gave me another angle. I then telephoned Congressman Michel’s Office and
demanded to talk to the Congressman. I told them, Senator Percy, asked that I call. Well,
there was no way the secretary was going to let me talk to the Congressman. So, I had to
explain what I wanted. She said that she would give the message to the Congressman. She
thought she could brush me off, however, she didn’t know who she was dealing with!
I called again every day for a week. When you want something, you can’t give up. Bug the
heck out of them and they will usually give in. Just ask any eight-year-old. Parents always
do for their kids, and husbands always do for their wives. So, why would a politician be any
different? Finally, they gave in.
Congressman’s Michel’s secretary told me that the Congressman was in, that she would
talk to him, and call me right back. In about 30 minutes, she called me. She indicated that
the Congressman had talked to Nixon’s office in San Clemente, California and that they
were open to the idea. She said that I should write a detailed letter to Nixon’s Chief of Staff
Col. John Brennan and she gave me a special address. She didn’t make any promises, but
the Congressman had opened the door for me. The rest was up to me.
I then wrote the letter of my life. I poured it on so strong, it looked like I worshiped the
ground that Nixon walked on. (Some people thought I already did.) I think I even
exaggerated, a little, in the letter. I mailed it that day, because, we were scheduled to leave
for California in about a week.
Five days later, I was at my parent’s home by myself, when the phone ranged. You know
who it was? It was Col. Brennan himself. He said that he had got my letter and that the
former President would see me on August 1, 1978 at 10 a.m. He then gave me their
private office number to call to confirm the time, when I arrived in California.
Wow! I was in! You can’t imagine how excited I was. There I was, an 18-year-old kid, about
to graduate from high school, and about to meet a former President of the United States in
his private home. A former President that was in isolation, who wasn’t seeing anyone, who
wasn’t giving TV interviews at the time, was going to see me.
When I told my family and friends, most people didn’t believe me. They actually thought I
was making this up. In fact, when I told one of my relatives, they said that, “How do you
know that was Nixon’s Office?” “That was probably a prank call!”
In fact, they even got me to question it. Could it really be a friend playing a joke on me?
After all, several people knew that I was trying to get the appointment. Should I call the
number they had given me to see if it was legitimate? If I called and it was, I would feel like
a fool.
So, what I did was call the phone company information. First, I asked for the number for
Richard Nixon. After they stopped laughing, they said that the number was unlisted. I then
said, I have a number, could you verify if it is Richard Nixon’s number? The operator
referred me to a supervisor.
“I’m sorry, we can’t do that, Mr. Wayman,” she said. “The security on presidential numbers
is as tight as Fort Knox.” “We don’t even have the number.” However, she did tell me that
the number I had was indeed a San Clemente, California number.
That was good enough for me. I was convinced. I was going to meet my hero.
When my friend and I arrived in San Clemente, we wanted to find a hotel close to the Nixon
estate. We had no idea where Nixon lived. We guess we would have found it one way or
the other. We stopped at one hotel, checked the price for a room, it was too high, so we
moved on. Finally, our third stop was a hotel within our budget. After checking in, I asked
the hotel clerk where Mr. Nixon lived. “His estate is just right across the road there. You
can walk!” You can call that a coincidence, but I call it fate.
The next day we called the Nixon number, the number with security as tight as Fort Knox
and they moved us to 10:30 a.m. That was cool, it didn’t make any difference to us.
That morning when we arrived, I was excited. This was the moment that I had been waiting
for. After checking in with the guard at the gate, we drove into the estate. We parked next
to his home. His office was in a separate building next to the residence, which was called
“La Casa Pacifica.” It was the most beautiful estate I had ever seen.
We walked into the office to find another guard. It was an U.S. Marshall. He motioned us to
the secretary. (The secretary had a broken nose at the time, which I know is not at all
relevant to the story, but I thought it was interesting. She had a big bandage tapped on her
nose. I asked her what happened to her nose. She replied that she “broke it.” Well, I
already knew that, I guess, but I had to ask anyway.) Nevertheless, she was very nice and
asked us to have a seat. “The President would be with you shortly,” she said. Boy, I liked
the sound of that. In fact, I’ll say it again; “The President would be with you shortly.” How
often do you hear that sentence?
A few minutes later, another couple walked into the office. I found out later that the
gentleman was a member of the British Parliament. The lady was his wife.
We got called to go in first. As I walked in, my heart almost stopped, there he was Richard
Nixon, the 37th President of the United States of America. He walked toward me, shook my
hand and I said, “It’s great to meet you, Mr. President!” For some strange reason, the man
made me feel comfortable right away. A great calmness swept all over me. I just sit there
and begin talking to him, as if I had known him for years. In fact, he did the same to me. I
think we hit it off, because we talked for nearly an hour while a member of the British
Parliament was waiting in the room next door. Boy, did I feel important.
I asked him a lot of questions about his activities. He gave me a lot of advice. I asked him
about China, about the Vietnam War, about the draft. He asked me about Illinois politics
and about my future. One advice he gave me was, “Don’t be afraid to take chances. Those
who take chances and lose are far better off than those who don’t take chances at all.”
At another point, he told us to “remember Lot’s wife (from the Bible). Learn from your
mistakes and don’t look back.” Oh, what good advice. He also stated that he knew what I
went through to get the appointment to see him. He said that he got hundreds of requests
each week and that he appreciated my eagerness and consistency. “You were
determined,” he said, “and I like that.”
I told him that I had went to visit his boyhood home in Yorba Linda, California the previous
day but was disappointed because I wasn’t allowed to go inside. He apologized and said
that an innkeeper lived there and it wasn’t open for tours. (Footnote: Today it is. It’s the
home of the Nixon Library and Birthplace. Mr. and Mrs. Nixon are also buried there. ) He
then said, “Maybe I can make it up to you. Would you like a tour of our estate here?” Of
course, you know what the answer was.
He then called in one of his aides and asked him to take us on a tour. Before we left, he
gave me a book he wrote and a presidential pen used for signing bills. He also signed
several autographs for me.
While I was standing there waiting for the aide to come in, Mr. Nixon asked his secretary if
the Member of Parliament was there and waiting. She said he was. Nixon asked how long
he had waited. “For nearly an hour, Mr. President.” His response was, “Oh, no!” Even a
former president hates to have people wait. How come our medical doctors care less? Our
doctors should take some lessons from this former president.
At that time, Mr. Nixon’s dog ran into the office, jumped on me and started licking me in the
face. “He likes you!” Nixon said. He went on to apologize for the dog. I told him that I loved
dogs and no apology was needed.
As we departed, I told Nixon that I hoped to see him again some day. His response to me
was, “Well, The next time I’m in Southern Illinois, I’ll look you up.” With that, we shook
hands again, and I left the office.
His aide then escorted us outside to the “Richard Nixon Golf Cart,” where we would tour
the estate. Apparently, Nixon used it to drive himself back and forth from the main house to
the office. The aide drove us all around and showed us the pool, the living room and the
main entrance. You name it, we saw it.
At one point we were driving and a guard up ahead blew a whistle and made a hand
motion. Our driver immediately stopped and turned around. I asked what was going on. He
said that Pat Nixon was working in the flower garden up ahead and would prefer not to
greet visitors while she was dressed with her jeans and a sweatshirt. I quickly turned and
looked. I did catch a glimpse of her, bent down, working in the flower garden.
With that, we left the estate. We had many pictures and a great memory. The man went
the extra mile to treat us like we were important. I will never forget that day in August of
1978.
The Above Story is from my book,
While You Do Your Business.
Order by book by clicking on the book.
With Nixon's Golf
Cart at his Estate
Cart at his Estate
A Candid photo I
took of Nixon
making a gesture
to his secretary.
took of Nixon
making a gesture
to his secretary.
