Rendezvous with Destiny: Ronald Reagan and the Campaign that Changed America

by Shirley, Craig

  On the eve of the 1980 election some columnists and academics worried that with John Anderson on the ballot, neither Reagan nor Carter would get a majority of the popular vote or a majority of the Electoral College vote. Failing to get a majority of the popular vote was not, in fact, all that unusual: it had happened fourteen times up to that point, the most recent instance coming in 1968. It was far less common for no presidential candidate to receive a majority of the Electoral College vote: this had happened only twice before, in 1800 and 1824. In each case, per the system set up by the Founding Fathers, the House of Representatives handled the matter—messily, maybe, but handled it nonetheless. Similarly, only twice—in 1876 and 1888—had a presidential candidate secured the required votes in the Electoral College but failed to win the popular vote.

  If such a case were to occur in 1980, the electoral map indicated that Carter might be the one to benefit: the census was ten years old, and as a result traditionally Democratic-leaning states such as Pennsylvania and New York retained their Electoral College muscle even though they had lost thousands upon thousands of voters in the past decade.

  It was a thin reed for Carterites to clutch.

  WHILE IN CHICAGO ON the Sunday before the election, President Carter awakened at 4 A.M. to a phone call from Deputy Secretary of State Warren Christopher informing him that the Iranian parliament had announced its terms for the release of the American hostages. Carter was exhausted from campaigning nonstop since the debate, but wearily, he put on the suit he'd worn earlier and left his suite on the twenty-ninth floor of the Hyatt Regency near O'Hare Airport and flew back to Washington, canceling that day of campaigning. Some reporters, rousted from their slumber, fumbled for their passports, assuming that the phone call meant they were off to Germany with the president to greet the returning hostages.15

  The U.S. government had made a last-minute offer to end the trade boycott of Iran and release frozen Iranian assets in the United States if the hostages were released. Now Carter met for several hours in the White House Cabinet Room with members of his administration to thrash out the latest proposal from the Iranians. Later in the day, he made a three-minute televised address to the country about the Iranian offer, describing it as a “positive basis.”16

  Still, the hostages were in Iran with no end of their humiliation in sight. As one reporter noted, “Carter's strategists have been hoping that the president would reap an 11th-hour benefit from the apparent prospect that the hostages will soon be freed.”17 But any presumed political advantage from the release of the hostages had drained away by this point. According to news polls, Americans by a 4–1 margin opposed the release of the hostages if it meant renewing relations with the Iranians, and more than half the country now believed that Carter would “give up too much” in order to secure their freedom.18

  Many Americans couldn't decide whether they had been played as fools by Carter or if he'd been played for a fool by the ayatollah. The fact that Carter's televised remarks broke into the live broadcast of NFL football games probably did not help his cause.19 Nor did the fact that Election Day would mark the first anniversary of the taking of the American hostages—something Carter noted bitterly years later, especially because all the networks trumpeted the anniversary.20

  The Iranians were not looking forward to the American elections. They had contempt for Carter, regarding him as “weak,” according to Bruce Langdon, the American chief of mission in Iran, who was the top-ranking hostage. At the same time, however, they hated and feared Reagan. Said Langdon, they were concerned about Reagan's “tough bombast … what that might mean in the long run.”21

  IN THE LAST DAYS of the campaign, Reagan was a study in both adrenaline and cool. On his plane, he kidded with photographers, even as one mistakenly referred to him as “President Reagan” while asking him to sign some photographs. Reagan replied, “You know, after you've canceled Social Security and started the war, what else is there for you to do?”22

  As his 727 took off, Reagan stood in the passageway—temporarily substituting for Mrs. Reagan—to attempt to roll a small pumpkin down the aisle rather than the usual orange. When the plane's public address system played “On the Road Again” by Willie Nelson and a less well-known number called “Ronald Reagan for President,” the candidate was back up, clapping his hands and performing a “hoedown,” as one reporter observed. On another takeoff, Reagan attempted to roll the pumpkin down the aisle again, but this time a reporter had given him an incentive: there, in the middle of the aisle, was a rubber mask of Jimmy Carter. Reagan threw a ten-strike, hitting the mask squarely in the kisser.23

  Reporters noted the difference between Reagan's LeaderShip '80 and Carter's Air Force One at campaign's end. The Reagan plane resembled a flying Delta House, with laughing, practical jokes, whistles blowing, booze freely flowing. Reagan easily mingled with the media and the staff. Reporters jokingly serenaded the Reagans with “Happy Trails.” Air Force One, by contrast, was a dirge, and Carter kept to himself in the front section of the plane. He was closely monitoring the latest news from Tehran, via Ed Muskie at the State Department.

  On Sunday, Reagan made his way to Cincinnati with Gerald Ford, George Bush, and Bob Hope in tow. Hope made a joke about Reagan appointing acerbic comedian Don Rickles as America's ambassador to Iran and fifteen thousand people laughed uproariously.24

  Although the running mates had grown to like and respect each other, all was not sweetness and light between their respective camps. The Bushies privately complained that Reagan had run a “bumbling campaign”; one unnamed Bush adviser told Time that “if Bush had been the nominee, he would have been leading in the polls by 20 points.”25

  Monday was a whirlwind of campaign activity, as Reagan moved from Peoria, Illinois, to Oregon before going to San Diego. At the last stop Reagan noted to a big, friendly crowd outside a shopping mall that he'd finished his 1966 campaign for governor in San Diego as well. A solitary heckler would not be quiet, yelling repeatedly. Reagan finally said, “Aww, shut up!” The crowd went wild. The dutiful son said that his mother had told him he should never use that word but he figured one time wouldn't do any permanent damage.26

  Reagan's plane then headed home to Los Angeles, but because of fog, Leader-Ship '80 was forced to land at Burbank instead. On the plane, he rolled the orange one more time down the aisle, and reporters good-naturedly chanted, “Drop the bomb!” Reagan was in high spirits as he told the airborne crowd, “I've just decided that the whole thing has been so much fun, to hell with the election, we're going to keep on campaigning.”27

  CARTER MADE A MAD dash to Ohio, Illinois, Oregon, and Washington State before flying home to Georgia late Monday evening so that he and the first lady could vote Tuesday morning. In Seattle, Carter implored Democrats to “come home.” Plaintively and repeatedly, he said, “I need you, I need you.” His voice was croaky, after one more long day of exhorting wavering Democrats not to “waste your vote.”28

  On the plane back, he had little time to rest, as he was getting updates from officials about the hostages as well as the state of his campaign. Neither situation was going well for Carter.

  JOHN ANDERSON, LANCE STILL firmly in his grip and a windmill in his vision, ended his campaign in Minnesota, naturally on a college campus.29 Toward the end, he had discovered the simple joys of being out and about with his fellow Americans. He knew he wasn't going to win, his supporters knew it, but it did not matter. Anderson—now “Stardust” to his Secret Service contingent—wanted to speak his mind and make his point, and he got that chance.30 The interior of his plane was a menagerie of oddball banners, bumper stickers, and posters. His staff had taken up the habit of blowing duck and moose calls as the plane took off. Reporters organized a “kazoo band,” and when Anderson walked down the aisle of the plane, they mirthfully played “Hail to the Chief.” Aides tried to steal a large potted plant from the Milwaukee airport to decorate their plane, but were foiled by local officials.31 No one outside of politics
would ever understand how joyously puerile a losing campaign at the end could be.

  THE REAGAN CAMPAIGN USED the night before the election to broadcast across the nation a half-hour speech by the candidate. Reagan had taped it earlier in a Virginia studio. It was one of his best speeches, though it never got the recognition it deserved.

  Reagan, looking into a camera, gave his testament to America, describing it as mankind's “last best hope.” Carter was mentioned just twice, and only in passing. The Republican spoke of the impending election and of his hopes for the safe and imminent return of the fifty-two imprisoned Americans.

  Reagan turned to two of his favorite subjects: the future and young Americans. “A child born this year will begin his or her adult life in what will be the twenty-first century. What kind of country, what kind of legacy will we leave to these young men and women who will live out America's third century as a nation?”

  He reviewed the stakes, describing Americans' unhappiness about the “worsening economic problems, about the constant crisis atmosphere in our foreign policy, about our diminishing prestige around the globe, about the weakness in our economy and national security that jeopardizes world peace, about our lack of strong, straight-forward leadership.” Reagan addressed the threat of the national government to the citizenry: “And many Americans today, just as they did two hundred years ago, feel burdened, stifled and sometimes even oppressed by government that has grown too large, too bureaucratic, too wasteful, too unresponsive, too uncaring about people and their problems. Americans, who have always known that excessive bureaucracy is the enemy of excellence and compassion, want a change in public life—a change that makes government work for people.”

  Reagan then moved to hope. “I believe we can embark on a new age of reform in this country and an era of national renewal. An era that will reorder the relationship between citizen and government, … that will revitalize the values of family, work, and neighborhood and that will restore our private and independent social institutions.” He didn't stop there—no sail-trimming for the old Jeffersonian. Reagan championed the “individual” over the “state” and said that private “institutions, not government, are the real sources of our economic and social progress as a people.” Reagan stated once again his desire to cut taxes and curb the growth of government, calling it and the accompanying “waste and fraud” a “national scandal.” He referred to America as a “federation of sovereign states.”

  Reagan spoke of his view of the presidency as a “bully pulpit” and not a managerial concern. “No person who understands the American presidency can possibly hope to make every decision or tend to every detail in the national government.” Reagan did not mention that Carter kept the schedule for the White House tennis courts, but everybody knew what he was referring to.

  The GOP nominee cited some of the reforms he would seek if elected: reining in the bureaucracy, saving Social Security, going after corruption in government and organized crime, including the horrendous drug traffic.

  Reagan came to the meaning of the election of 1980. “That's why I want to talk with you—not about campaign issues, but about America, about us, you and me. Not so long ago, we emerged from a world war. Turning homeward at last, we built a grand prosperity and hoped—from our own success and plenty—to help others less fortunate. Our peace was a tense and bitter one, but in those days the center seemed to hold. Then came the hard years: riots and assassinations, domestic strife over the Vietnam War and in the last four years, drift and disaster in Washington. It all seems a long way from a time when politics was a national passion and sometimes even fun.…

  “That is really the question before us tonight: for the first time in our memory many Americans are asking: does history still have a place for America, for her people, for her great ideals? There are some who answer ‘no’: that our energy is spent, our days of greatness at an end, that a great national malaise is upon us. They say we must cut our expectations, conserve and withdraw, that we must tell our children … not to dream as we once dreamed.”

  Reagan's eyes glistened, his voice became husky, as he told of his old friend John Wayne. The Duke, said Reagan, was “more than a symbol of the Hollywood dream industry; to millions he was a symbol of our country itself. And when he died, the headlines seemed to convey all the doubt about America, all the nostalgia for a seemingly lost past. ‘The Last American Hero,’ said one headline. ‘Mr. America Dies,' said another. Well, I knew John Wayne well, and no one would have been angrier at being called the ‘last American hero.'”

  Reagan spoke of the heroes of Vietnam, the prisoners of war whom he and Mrs. Reagan had welcomed to America and entertained in their home. The Reagans had heard their tales of torture, of “tapping code on the wall that divided their solitary confinement cells. One night … I asked Nancy, ‘Where did we find such men?’ The answer came to me as quickly as I had asked the question. We found them where we've always found them. In our shops, on our farms, on our city streets, in our villages and towns. They are just the product of the freest society the world has ever known.”

  Reagan turned to spiritual matters. “Since her beginning America has held fast to this hope of divine providence, this vision of ‘man with God.’ It is true that world peace is jeopardized by those who view man not as a noble being, but as an accident of nature, without soul, and important only to the extent he can serve an all powerful state. But it is our spiritual commitment—more than all the military might in the world—that will win our struggle for peace.… It is humility before God that is ultimately the source of America's strength as a nation.”

  After telling his story about the Puritans and their “city upon a hill,” Reagan moved toward his conclusion, talking about the past year on the campaign, meeting and talking with so many of his fellow Americans. “I find no national malaise, I find nothing wrong with the American people. Oh, they are frustrated, even angry at what has been done to this blessed land. But more than anything they are sturdy and robust as they have always been.” Reagan then offered not an empty promise but a wish, a hope, and a pledge to “stand by” the oppressed of the world, the tortured, the enslaved, the victims of persecution. He challenged Americans, quoting Dr. Joseph Warren, who had been killed at the battle of Bunker Hill and who said to his fellow patriots before the clash, “Act worthy of yourselves.”

  In closing, the Gipper reminded Americans of the past four years, the dire economy, and America's diminished standing across the globe. He quoted Lincoln's admonition etched at his memorial: “Let us bind up the nation's wounds.” And then, as always, Reagan returned to the young men and women of his country.

  “At this very moment, some young American, coming up along the Virginia or Maryland shores of the Potomac, is seeing for the first time the lights that glow on the great halls of our government and the monuments to the memory of our great men. Let us resolve tonight that young Americans will always see those Potomac lights; that they will always find there a city of hope in a country that is free. And let us resolve they will say of our day and our generation that we did keep faith with our God, that we did act ‘worthy of ourselves,’ that we did protect and pass on lovingly that shining city on a hill.”32

  THE ELECTION-EVE SPEECH COST $400,000 to broadcast on all three networks.33 It was worth every penny.

  Reagan's hard-bitten press aide, Jim Brady, shed tears when he saw the speech. Lisa Myers wrote in the Washington Star, “It was a speech of hope, designed to soothe and stir rather than incite.” It was, she said, “presidential in tone.”34 Howell Raines of the New York Times was also impressed, calling it “evocative.”35Time magazine called it “superbly moving.”36

  The remarkable address, which Reagan did on the second take, had been drafted by one of Reagan's favorite speechwriters, Ken Khachigian. Word had already leaked out that if Reagan won, Khachigian was favored for the top speech-writing post in the White House. Khachigian had been traveling on the plane with Reagan throughout the fall, ba
nging out speech after speech on his IBM Selectric II. Stu Spencer, who had seconded Ed Meese's decision to bring Khachigian aboard, years later said, “He was the best speechwriter I ever saw.”37

  Khachigian and Reagan's other favorite speechwriter, Peter Hannaford, were so successful at least in part because they understood Reagan and listened to him. Before they touched a keystroke, they would sit with Reagan and take notes, getting direction on content. They would then draft the speech and give it to Reagan, who would edit it—adding, deleting, moving paragraphs around.38

  IN ACCORDANCE WITH TRADITION, Election Day voting began in Dixville Notch, New Hampshire, just after midnight. Reagan crushed Carter in this tiny New England village, 17–3.39 He had finally won Dixville Notch, after losing there to Ford in the 1976 primary and tying with Bush in the 1980 primary.40

  Democratic leaders knew their base was demoralized, while the Republicans were energized. In St. Louis County, Missouri, GOP chairwoman Pat Keyes called Kenny Klinge and said, “I've got a problem.” Klinge expected her to say no one had shown up to work the twenty-five phones. Instead, she said, “I've got five hundred people, what am I supposed to do?” A platoon system was hastily arranged.41