AS SUMMER TURNED to Fall in 1952, Richard Milhous Nixon was a young politician in a hurry. In just six years, he had gone from obscurity to celebrity. His future seemed secure and bright as the Republican Vice Presidential nominee on the ticket with the most popular political candidate in generations—General Dwight D. Eisenhower. But Nixon’s national ascendancy was almost over before his fortieth birthday. A scandal about a “secret rich man’s fund” was making newspaper headlines across the country. Many called for him to be dropped from the ticket. Even Eisenhower’s support wavered.
The Day Politics Met Television
One day in 1974, as Spring began to give way to Summer, Frank Gannon—wordsmith and White House Fellow—took a walk in Washington, largely to get away from the stress induced by the Nixon White House’s ever-increasing Watergate milieu. He found his way to an old theater—one that happened to be featuring a triple billing of anti-Nixon films. He felt uncomfortable—even somewhat guilty—for being there, but for whatever reason even this was a welcome break from what was happening a few blocks away. He looked around and, though the lights were out, sensed the crowd’s unmistakable derision every time Richard Nixon’s familiar image appeared on the screen.