by Hill, Clint
I had received everything asked for when accepting the position as SAIC of VPPD, and even though the changeover happened just ten days before the Inauguration, it went very smoothly. I chose my leadership team—John Simpson, Sam Sulliman, and Win Lawson—and we kept many of the same agents who had been on the VPPD Elect Detail as well as adding most of the agents who had been on the small detail protecting Vice President Humphrey, so we had an experienced team that jelled well from the beginning.
Born in Baltimore, Maryland, Spiro Theodore Agnew was of Greek descent and had an affable personality. Like Johnson, he was tall—standing about six feet two inches—and at fifty years of age he was quite energetic and athletic, preferring to take the stairs instead of an elevator whenever possible, which I considered good not only for him but for me and the other agents as well.
When Nixon chose him to be his running mate in August 1968, Agnew was relatively unknown to most Americans. Before taking on my assignment, I got a background file on him and learned that he had graduated from Johns Hopkins University and the Baltimore School of Law, and after being drafted into the Army served as an officer in World War II and the Korean War. He’d only gotten into politics in 1962, when he was elected Baltimore county executive; four years after that he was elected governor of Maryland.
In the wake of Martin Luther King’s assassination in April 1968, Agnew had invited black civic and religious leaders to a meeting in Baltimore to discuss the riots and civil rights in general. The meeting failed, however, as Agnew could not withhold his contempt for the more militant leaders, calling them, in the first official style of name-calling for which he would soon become infamous, “circuit-riding, Hanoi-visiting, caterwauling, riot-inciting, burn-America-down type of leaders.” Not surprisingly, the group walked out on him. Liberal critics felt Agnew had alienated the African American community that had turned out for him at the voting booths just two years before, but there were many who agreed with his opinion that too many pardons and concessions had been made to looters and arsonists during the riots. This news-making event brought Governor Agnew to the attention of the leadership in the Republican Party—especially Richard Nixon. Subsequently Agnew was selected as the running mate on the Republican presidential ticket in the fall of 1968, just two years after becoming governor.
During the campaign, Agnew came across as a stern disciplinarian father figure, a law-and-order type, but he also had a cringing habit of putting his foot in his mouth. The opposition and the press jumped on him for insensitive comments like “If you’ve seen one city slum, you’ve seen them all”; calling Polish Americans “Polacks”; and even referring to one Asian reporter as “a fat Jap.” His gaffes were fodder for comedians, and the word “bumbling” often preceded his name in newspaper articles.
Agnew and his wife, Judy, had four children—two of whom were still living at home—and until January 7, they’d been living in the governor’s residence in Annapolis, Maryland. The U.S. government did not provide a residence for the vice president—a practice I objected to, because the Secret Service had to secure each new vice president’s residence at a significant cost—so when the Agnews came to Washington, they had to find a place to live. They ended up moving into a nine-room suite in the apartment section of the Sheraton Park Hotel in northwest Washington, and although the Sheraton Park was well accustomed to high-profile residents—Presidents Eisenhower and Herbert Hoover, Vice President Johnson, and Chief Justice Earl Warren had all lived there at one time or another—it was still a challenge to secure the portion of the hotel in which the Agnews were residing.
In the days leading up to the Inauguration, antiwar demonstrators were organizing to create disruptions, which gave us some cause for concern. On Sunday, January 19, a group of about five thousand marched down Pennsylvania Avenue in a “counterinaugural parade” wearing Nixon masks, holding up effigies, and carrying signs that labeled Nixon a criminal, just as we were bringing Vice President–elect Agnew to a reception in his honor at the History and Technology Museum. We got him in without incident, but a group of the protestors swarmed around the entrance jeering and throwing stones, bottles, and firecrackers as people arrived for the function. Fortunately, the mounted police were able to move the group away before anyone got hurt, but when the guests had to traipse through the grass to a different entrance, one woman snapped to a reporter, “The hippies have the sidewalk and the establishment has to walk in the mud.”
THE SECURITY FOR Richard Nixon’s Inauguration had been in the planning for months, but even with tens of thousands of law enforcement officers on the ground, undercover in the crowd, and observing from the air, those of us immediately surrounding the president and vice president knew anything could happen at any moment. In our job, every day was game day, but this—this was the Super Bowl, the final game of the World Cup, and the deciding inning of the World Series all wrapped into one.
The morning of January 20, 1969, we picked up Mr. and Mrs. Agnew at the Sheraton and drove them to the White House to join President and Mrs. Johnson, Vice President and Mrs. Humphrey, and President-elect Nixon and his wife, Pat, for coffee in the Red Room before going on to the U.S. Capitol for the swearing-in ceremony.
It was cold—not quite freezing, but almost—and dark gray clouds covered the sky, threatening rain. Still, hundreds of thousands of people had come to witness the pageantry and history of the transition of power from one president to the next. The trip from the White House to the Capitol was uneventful, and everything was moving smoothly and on schedule as the pomp and circumstance was about to begin.
Rows of tiered seats had been set up on the inauguration platform, on the east side of the Capitol behind the podium where Richard M. Nixon and Spiro T. Agnew would take the oaths of office. Each seat was numbered and assigned by long-standing tradition to members of the House and Senate, state govenors, the cabinet, special invited guests, and family members of the outgoing and incoming president and vice president. Several minutes before the ceremony was to begin, I walked out to the platform and down the steps to my assigned seat, five rows behind the podium on the center aisle, while Rufus Youngblood and SAIC Bob Taylor took their seats directly in front of me in the third and fourth rows. From this vantage point we had a clear view of the hundreds of thousands of people on the ground below, and would be within a step or two of our protectees, while several other agents were standing at strategic posts on the platform—all of us on high alert and ready to react in a heartbeat.
As the band struck up ruffles and flourishes and “Hail to the Chief,” President Johnson made his way down the stairs to the front row—it was the last time he would hear these strains in his honor—followed shortly by Vice President Humphrey, and then Vice President–elect Agnew and President-elect Nixon, and the ceremony began. The moment Richard M. Nixon finished the oath of office—with his left hand on two leather-bound family Bibles, and his right hand up by his ear—uttering the words “so help me God,” the transfer of power was complete.
As President Nixon stood at the podium and spoke to the crowd—and to the millions watching on television around the world—I must admit I did not pay much attention to what was being said, for my mind was focusing on the people, my eyes constantly scanning from back to front, from one side to the other, looking at hands and faces and body language for anyone who looked out of place, or who made a sudden unusual movement.
When the speech was over, there was a lunch in the Capitol, and then it was time for the parade.
Leading the Inaugural Parade was the brand-new fully armored presidential limousine, SS-800-X, with President and Mrs. Nixon riding in the backseat, waving from behind the bulletproof windows. Six agents surrounded the vehicle—four walking alongside and two standing on the rear footsteps—while two follow-up cars manned with more than a dozen more agents trailed a few feet behind.
I had a clear view of the president’s vehicle from my position in the right front seat of the next vehicle in the parade—the l
imousine containing Vice President and Mrs. Agnew. As fate would have it, this was the same Lincoln limousine used in Dallas on November 22, 1963, but now renovated and armored, top enclosed, and painted black rather than midnight-blue—the same car I had walked alongside four years earlier during President Johnson’s Inaugural Parade.
Three notable dates in history—two Inaugurations and one assassination—with three different presidents, and there I was, a part of each one, all in that same car: SS-100-X.
Thousands upon thousands of people lined the wide avenue between the Capitol and the presidential residence at number 1600, and for the most part it was a friendly, exuberant crowd, kept well under control by the unprecedented show of police and military security forces. As the motorcade started, I requested the driver of our car to leave a wider than usual gap between us and the cars ahead so that the president’s vehicle would stand out more prominently, as well as to provide us more room to maneuver should the need arise.
Police from the District’s Special Operations stood shoulder to shoulder, their backs to the motorcade, with billy clubs firmly in their hands at certain points along the route where protestors had gathered. All of a sudden there was a commotion in the crowd on the right-hand side of the street, and I saw some objects hurled toward the president’s vehicle.
“Close the distance to Halfback,” I instructed the driver. There was nowhere else for us to go, and I wanted to shorten the gap so we were a unified, compact group.
Up ahead there was a big sign in the crowd that said BILLIONAIRES PROFIT OFF G.I. BLOOD! and as we came near it, a beer can and a couple of rocks flew toward our car. The driver accelerated slightly, forcing the agents alongside into a run in order to stay in position, while the two agents on the back of the car grabbed for handholds to keep from falling into the street.
In the side-view mirror, I could see Agent Win Lawson struggling to maintain his balance while ducking from the incoming missiles as the car lurched forward. All of the agents maintained composure, as they’d been trained to, bravely guarding the occupants inside even as objects continued to be hurled.
The protestors were mostly concentrated in that one area, and once we moved past them, the people were again friendly and cheering. As we neared the glassed-in viewing stand in front of the White House from where the Nixons and Agnews would watch the rest of the parade, President and Mrs. Nixon suddenly emerged through the opening in the roof of the car. The crowd erupted into a thunderous cheer as their new president stood, waved, and then raised both arms up, filling himself with the adoration. I tensed, my eyes scanning the crowd while keeping him firmly in my sight, willing him to get back in the damn car.
I didn’t know if he had done this spontaneously or if he’d asked the agents if it would be okay and they felt comfortable enough with the crowd and the security at this point to allow him, but in either case, his actions showed me that this president—like all the others I’d seen thus far—had an ego that needed to be stroked so badly that the man was willing to take calculated risks—risks that might cost him his life.
An armored limousine with bulletproof glass surrounded by Secret Service agents willing to risk their own lives becomes useless when the protectee stands up, exposing his head and body above the car roof. Fortunately, it worked out all right this time, and we got everyone into the viewing stand to watch the rest of the parade.
Two and a half hours later, the parade over, it was time to change into black tie for the evening round of Inaugural Balls. Six of them. We had to be careful of our timing at the balls because the plan was for the president and vice president to attend each one at different times, meeting at the last one for a grand joint appearance.
The top bands of the country performed at the various balls—Lionel Hampton, Sammy Kaye, Lester Lanin, Meyer Davis, Guy Lombardo, and Duke Ellington—but the ballrooms were so jammed with people dressed in tuxedos and sparkly full-length evening gowns that it was difficult to move, much less dance. Still, Vice President and Mrs. Agnew were enjoying the festive mood, greeting old friends and donors who had helped bring them to this point as we made the rounds. It was early on the morning of January 21 when we finally tucked them into their Sheraton Park Hotel suite, while President and Mrs. Nixon went to their new home, the White House.
TRADITIONALLY, THE VICE president had offices in the U.S. Capitol and the Executive Office Building (EOB), located next to the White House, and that is where Mr. Agnew spent most of his time. My office, and the rest of my staff, was now in the EOB as well, and while I missed being in the center of the main activity, I quickly realized that the VPPD was going to be a lot less stressful than my previous jobs had been.
The vice president is automatically a member of the National Security Council, and also serves as president of the U.S. Senate, for which he is called on to vote only in the event of a Senate deadlock. Agnew took the job of presiding officer at the Senate quite seriously, and, lacking previous congressional experience, he studied with the Senate parliamentarian to make sure he knew the correct procedures. For the first few weeks of the Nixon administration, Agnew presided over the Senate almost every day it was in session—something that had not been the standard practice of preceding vice presidents—and it annoyed some of the senators—even those in his own party, because the Senate is a “closed club” and Agnew was an outsider. Over time he got the message and began to spend less and less time on the Hill.
In the first few months of his presidency, President Nixon focused on international issues and made a highly publicized trip to Europe to meet with his counterparts in Brussels, London, West Berlin, and Rome, as well as a stop in Vatican City to meet with the pope. Meanwhile, Vice President Agnew’s schedule was filled with trips to New York City; Cincinnati and Toledo, Ohio; and Stuart, Florida, where he spoke to groups like the Women’s National Republican Club and the Conference of Mayors, and handed out the winner’s trophy at the Bob Hope Desert Classic golf tournament in Palm Springs.
President Nixon traveled on USAF 26000—the aircraft used by both Presidents Kennedy and Johnson, and on which I had traveled the world—but shortly after he took office, Nixon requested the interior be completely refurbished. Whereas President Johnson had established an open floor plan during his administration, President Nixon had the interior gutted and reconfigured into compartments. The largest section of the aircraft was a two-room suite for use by the president, his family, and invitees. The first room was a lounge area with a desk, easy chairs, and a sofa; and the second room—which Nixon used most frequently—had a desk, two single beds, and a couple of chairs. Directly behind the presidential suite was an area set up as work quarters for his staff, with desks and typewriters. There was a small compartment for the Secret Service in the front of the plane, while seating for additional staff, guests, and the media was aft of the presidential compartment. The new configuration gave President Nixon the privacy he desired.
Meanwhile, the dedicated aircraft the Air Force provided for the vice president’s domestic travels was a Lockheed JetStar—known as Air Force Two as soon as the vice president was aboard. Much smaller and far less plush than the Boeing 707s in use by the president, the JetStar had a limited range, but it was fast and small enough to land on most runways, which made it ideal for short trips. Knowing we always had a plane available made life a lot easier for all of us.
From the first trip I went on with Agnew, I realized traveling with him was going to be an entirely different experience than I had been used to with Johnson. As soon as we were airborne and had leveled off, the vice president stood up, holding a deck of cards, and said, “Clint, do you play pinochle?”
“No, Mr. Vice President—sorry, I’ve never played pinochle before.”
“How about gin rummy?”
I shook my head. “No. I guess I never had much time to play cards.”
“Well, come on and I’ll show you. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together. Might as well have some fun along the
way.”
So that became the routine. Once airborne, the vice president would engage me or his doctor, Bill Voss, in a game of cards to pass the time, and then, just prior to landing, if he were scheduled to make a speech upon arrival, Agnew would go over the speech and make any notes or changes.
When we were in Washington, if the opportunity presented itself, the vice president would request we drive him to Little Italy in Baltimore for dinner at Sabatino’s—his favorite restaurant. He loved this traditional, family-owned Italian restaurant, where he knew the owners would keep his visit quiet, so he could meet with friends and associates away from the glare of lights and cameras. We would take him in the back door and up some stairs to a private dining area. The privacy gave him the opportunity to really enjoy himself and relax.
On one occasion, as I was checking the restaurant before Agnew came in, I encountered Frank Sinatra.
“Good evening, Mr. Sinatra,” I said. “I’m Clint Hill from the Secret Service. I used to talk with you by phone during the Kennedy administration.”
He looked at me with a glimmer of recognition and then broke into a smile and said, “Yes, of course. Clint, great to see you. I wondered whatever happened to you.”
“I’m still around. Doing the best I can,” I said.
“Keep it up,” he said with a nod. “You’re one of the best.”
It was certainly a nice compliment coming from one of America’s favorite entertainers.
THE AGNEW FAMILY also enjoyed going to Ocean City, Maryland, where they would stay with their longtime friends Mr. and Mrs. Harry Dundore, and Agnew could play golf with friends and enjoy a sense of anonymity. I quickly learned that golfing was one of Vice President Agnew’s favorite activities, and once again I found myself spending lots of time on the world’s most picturesque golf courses—never playing, only observing—reminiscent of my days on President Eisenhower’s detail.
