1974
Vance Murray
The camera zooms in on a defeated man reading from a pile of papers. His eyes try to look at the camera but end up being forced back onto his papers. He murmurs a low, “Good Evening.” In 1968, this same man stood in front of the Republic National Convention larger than life. He smiled, gazing at the crowd stating, “Tonight, I again proudly accept that nomination for President of the United States. But I have news for you. This time, there is a difference. This time, we are going to win!” But this was not the same Nixon of 1968; he lacked any form of passion or charisma. The static of the room is louder than him. He looks up at the camera again, stating, “I have never been a quitter.”
He had spent eight years as vice president, eight years as Ike’s prat boy. Then in 1960 he finally got his chance, he ran for president, but he lost. Then in 1962 he lost the California governorship in a humiliating upset, and he swore off politics. Yet he was the same man who had won the Presidency in two landslides. But it had cost him.
He looks back down at his papers. “As President, I must put the interest of America first. America needs a full-time President and a full-time Congress.” He takes a breath. “Therefore,” in his career, he has never shown sadness or weakness until this point. “I shall resign the presidency effective at noon tomorrow.” Nixon had been beaten, betrayed, and berated at every turn. Yet, despite all odds, he forced his way into the Oval Office. That Nixon was gone. He continues to summarize the innovations of his Presidency, sadly gazing up and down from his paper. “May God’s grace be with you in all the days ahead,” he prays.
Nixon, however, was no saint. In 1972, five men broke into the Democratic National Committee, stealing information and tapping phones. These men were arrested, and the ensuing investigation would spur the largest scandal in American history. The men who broke into the Watergate Hotel worked for the Republican Party. Over a series of phone calls, Nixon would use his power to its fullest extent in a massive cover-up, but the phone calls were recorded.
Nixon took over the Presidency in a country with instability, the likes of which had not been seen since the Civil War. His predecessor had declined re-election and watched as his party exploded into violence, bigotry, and factionalism. Nixon had to put out the fires, both literally and metaphorically, around the nation. He brought the country out of the Vietnam war, opened trade with China, and was re-elected in a landslide. All that didn’t matter though; he had lost and was forced to resign.
As he walked onto the White House lawn, preparing to leave in Air Force One for the last time. His mind goes back to his 1962 gubernatorial defeat and his statement to the press, “Just think how much you’re going to be missing. You don’t have Nixon to kick around anymore.” But this was not the Nixon of 1962, or the Nixon of 1960, or 1968 or 1972, this was the Nixon of 1974. He steps onto the helicopter and turns around. For the first time in months, he gives a smile that isn’t fake. He shoots up his iconic peace signs, then turns around to get into the helicopter, leaving the Presidency and politics forever.
He had spent eight years as vice president, eight years as Ike’s prat boy. Then in 1960 he finally got his chance, he ran for president, but he lost. Then in 1962 he lost the California governorship in a humiliating upset, and he swore off politics. Yet he was the same man who had won the Presidency in two landslides. But it had cost him.
He looks back down at his papers. “As President, I must put the interest of America first. America needs a full-time President and a full-time Congress.” He takes a breath. “Therefore,” in his career, he has never shown sadness or weakness until this point. “I shall resign the presidency effective at noon tomorrow.” Nixon had been beaten, betrayed, and berated at every turn. Yet, despite all odds, he forced his way into the Oval Office. That Nixon was gone. He continues to summarize the innovations of his Presidency, sadly gazing up and down from his paper. “May God’s grace be with you in all the days ahead,” he prays.
Nixon, however, was no saint. In 1972, five men broke into the Democratic National Committee, stealing information and tapping phones. These men were arrested, and the ensuing investigation would spur the largest scandal in American history. The men who broke into the Watergate Hotel worked for the Republican Party. Over a series of phone calls, Nixon would use his power to its fullest extent in a massive cover-up, but the phone calls were recorded.
Nixon took over the Presidency in a country with instability, the likes of which had not been seen since the Civil War. His predecessor had declined re-election and watched as his party exploded into violence, bigotry, and factionalism. Nixon had to put out the fires, both literally and metaphorically, around the nation. He brought the country out of the Vietnam war, opened trade with China, and was re-elected in a landslide. All that didn’t matter though; he had lost and was forced to resign.
As he walked onto the White House lawn, preparing to leave in Air Force One for the last time. His mind goes back to his 1962 gubernatorial defeat and his statement to the press, “Just think how much you’re going to be missing. You don’t have Nixon to kick around anymore.” But this was not the Nixon of 1962, or the Nixon of 1960, or 1968 or 1972, this was the Nixon of 1974. He steps onto the helicopter and turns around. For the first time in months, he gives a smile that isn’t fake. He shoots up his iconic peace signs, then turns around to get into the helicopter, leaving the Presidency and politics forever.
Vance Murray is a Senior at NMMI. After finally graduating he wishes to commission as an officer in the Marine Corps.