Monday, Jul. 28, 1980

Inside the Jerry Ford Drama

By Ed Magnuson

How the Republicans' dream ticket was born--and died

The extraordinary hours in which the friends and agents of Gerald Ford and Ronald Reagan tried to fashion a unique ticket composed of a once and a (possibly) future President were political drama of the highest order. How the effort to get Ford to run with Reagan began and ballooned and why it finally burst is told in this story reported by TIME Correspondents Robert Ajemian, Laurence Barrett, Neil MacNeil and Hugh Sidey:

In the end, they failed. But as they rode an emotional roller coaster through the Republican National Convention, some of the coolest operators in U.S. politics clung to the heady notion that they could somehow restructure the American presidency in a mere 36 hours. Even after their feverish efforts collapsed, reducing their spirits from exhilaration to a despair tinged with bitterness, political intimates of former President Gerald Ford and Republican Presidential Candidate Ronald Reagan looked back wistfully at how close they felt they had come to working a strange sort of political miracle.

To an unprecedented degree, the surface of the drama was played out on the nation's television screens. The premature reports from TV's ubiquitous and often intrusive microphones in the Joe Louis Arena not only broadcast both true and false details of the bargaining but influenced the actors trying to shape history in the glass-walled suites of the 73-story Detroit Plaza Hotel, which towers above the city's scenic waterfront.

Ultimately, the Ford men and the Reagan men failed because they talked past each other across the deeply carpeted rooms. Reagan's aides concentrated on creating that "dream ticket" that would, they felt certain, get their chief to the White House. Ford's aides struggled to pin down exactly what their chief would do if he returned to Washington as the first President ever to step down to the vice presidency. All the while, George Bush, who was ultimately to benefit from the try that failed, sat silently by, a nearly forgotten spectator.

Here, hour by hour, is how the drama unfolded:

Tuesday Noon: Reagan Has a Better Idea

As they walked into Reagan's 69th-floor suite in the Plaza, the two Republican Senators (John Tower and Strom Thurmond), two Congressmen (Robert Michel of Illinois and Robert Bauman of Maryland) and two Governors (Pierre du Pont of Delaware and Charles Thone of Nebraska) had no inkling that they were stepping into G.O.P. history. They were there for a long-scheduled appointment to give Reagan their advice on who would be his best running mate. Most of the group favored Bush. But Reagan sounded skeptical. He asked just how Bush would help the ticket.

Finally he posed the startling question: "What about Ford?"

The idea was hardly new to the group, but the fact that Reagan was still thinking about it amazed the six. They had assumed that Ford had firmly squelched the notion of his running in the second spot when he and Reagan had discussed it in a well-publicized 1 1/4-hour meeting at Ford's Rancho Mirage home near Palm Springs, Calif., on June 5.

Du Pont was the first to respond to Reagan's question. "Of course," he said, "Jerry Ford would be the very best choice. He could add tremendous impact to the ticket." Michel agreed: "If you really want the strongest Vice President, it's Ford, for obvious reasons."

Thone then expressed what most of the party's insiders felt about Ford: "I don't think there's a prayer that Ford will accept." But if Reagan did want to push the idea, Michel offered some advice: "It ought to be on a one-on-one basis and not handled by staff, so there's no mistake. You bare your breast to him and tell him how it is. He appreciates forth-rightness." Without any hint of what he would do, Reagan said of Ford: "We are meeting later on today."

Tuesday Afternoon: Talks at the Top

Robert Barrett, Ford's chief of staff, escorted his boss down one flight of Stairs from the former President's 70th-floor Plaza suite. Reagan was more than cordial to Ford as they met for 65 minutes. For the first time, Reagan revealed that he wanted to try once more to coax Ford into running with him. He had been alerted by aides weeks ago that Ford cronies seemed to be sending signals of a reviving interest on Ford's part, and his initiative was far from a deadline impulse inspired by the mood of the convention.

Reagan even suggested that Ford might be given an additional job in a revised Administration: he could serve as a member of the Cabinet, quite possibly as Secretary of Defense. Ford quickly rejected that suggestion.

As later paraphrased by Ford aides, the meeting ended with Ford saying about the proposed pairing: "I don't think it will work. I don't want to encourage you." Ford had made his first mistake: he had not said no.

Tuesday Night: Kissinger Is Called

Former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger was ready to go off on a dinner date with Senator Paul Laxalt when the telephone rang in his Plaza suite. The caller was William Casey, Reagan's campaign director. Could Kissinger come over to Casey's rooms in the Plaza? When he got there, he was welcomed by Casey, Reagan Aide Michael Deaver and Edwin Meese, Reagan's chief of staff. Quite succinctly, Meese explained that Reagan very much wanted Ford on the ticket and asked if Kissinger would help persuade Ford to consider running. In fact, Meese noted, time was getting short and perhaps Kissinger should go directly to see Ford.

Kissinger demurred. Bracing Ford suddenly with a proposal that he had so often rejected might just irritate him. It would be better, Kissinger suggested, for him to raise the matter later that night during a relaxed visit that both had planned on a yacht docked on the Detroit River near the Joe Louis Arena. Casey agreed that Kissinger should handle it his own way.

One floor higher, Ford told Barrett and John Marsh, a former aide in the Ford White House, about his meeting with Reagan. He felt flattered, honored--and pressured. He and Betty joined two dozen other friends on the yacht Global Star, owned by John McGoff, a Michigan newspaper publisher. Among the guests was Alan Greenspan, a Ford friend and his chief economic adviser in the White House.

Tuesday Midnight: The Pressure Grows

National Committee Chairman Bill Brock joined Reagan in his Plaza suite to watch the convention on television. Unaware of the Reagan overtures to Ford, Brock urged Reagan and his aides to try again to get Ford to run. He was astonished at Reagan's enthusiasm for what was becoming known as the "Ford option," in contrast to the "standard option" (the much publicized short list of contenders, headed by Bush). Brock decided then that he too would plead with Ford. Around midnight, Brock called Convention Chairman John Rhodes on the podium and invited him to a breakfast next morning in Brock's 70th-floor Plaza suite to discuss the "dream ticket."

It was also about midnight when the Ford party, including Greenspan, left the yacht and went back to the Ford suite. Although Ford had a commitment to appear early Wednesday on the Today show, he sat patiently through nearly two hours of informal chats about joining the ticket. The group, including Political Aides Barrett and Marsh, was joined by Kissinger, his wife Nancy and son David, 18. Ford led Kissinger into another room, where the two talked privately for 45 minutes.

Kissinger leaned hard on Ford's sense of patriotism. ("He had to be motivated to give up a hell of a lot," Kissinger explained later.) One of those in the party described the former Secretary's role throughout the evening as "alternately being a very dear friend of Ford and next using the plea of national emergency." Urged Kissinger at one point: "The country needs you." Replied Ford: "But, Henry, it won't work."

It was no secret that Ford would like Kissinger back at the State Department and that Reagan had rejected the idea, but Kissinger now injected a personal point about his future: "Under no circumstances, Mr. President, I must tell you, should any personalities or names keep you from doing this. There's no desire on my part to have any position."

Betty Ford sat through the discussions in some discomfort. Early in the conversation she asked a poignant question: "Why us again?" She heard her husband resist a return to Washington. For one thing, he had worked with a Vice President he admired, Nelson Rockefeller, and yet their two staffs had constantly quarreled. Now he and his family had worked out a fine life, and they were all enjoying themselves. He did not want to become "an election ploy." But as the group broke up, about 2 a.m., one participant turned back to Betty for her opinion. "Whatever is needed," she said, I'll do."

Wednesday Morning: A Dissenter

Ford began his day with an appearance on NBC's Today show that intrigued his early-rising aides and cheered the Reagan staff. When asked the obvious question of whether taking the second spot would offend his pride, he said: "Honestly, if I thought the situation would work, if all the other questions could be resolved, the problem of pride would not bother me in any way."

Ford's next stop was a breakfast at the Detroit Athletic Club with the editors of TIME. Ford admitted that he had had a good meeting with Reagan the day before, "the best one I've had." But, he said of the vice presidency, "my top aides know I have not changed my mind." However, when asked if those aides had conveyed that to Reagan's top aides, Ford coyly replied: "You'll have to ask them."

Talk of the "Ford option" grew more excited at another breakfast, this one called by Brock. Munching coffee rolls and drinking orange juice and coffee in Brock's elegant Plaza suite were Greenspan, Rhodes, Michel, Senators Howard Baker and Robert Dole, Governors Bill Clements of Texas and James Thompson of Illinois and Pollsters Bob Teeter and Tully Plesser. Said Michel about Ford's Today answers: "Jerry left a crack in the door." Teeter showed the group his private polling figures on nationwide responses to various Reagan tickets. Ford as running mate would pull a hefty 11% more than any of the other likely candidates.

Many in the group were delighted by the Ford prospect. Baker was cautious about the idea of tampering with presidential powers. "Well, I've got some worries about it," he told his colleagues, "but I'll go along." Only one man tried to put a damper on the whole idea. Rhodes, who had kept quiet as others chatted on, finally broke his silence. "It can't happen," he said of a Reagan-Ford pairing. "If it does, a lot of people have taken leave of their senses."

When the group decided to ask Brock to present formally their views to Ford, Rhodes objected. "I will have no part of it," he said. He agreed that he would not try to dissuade Ford from running, but he asked: "What the hell would he want to spend the next four years of his life as the Vice President for?" Responded Brock: "We can remake the vice presidency." Rhodes was unmoved. Said he: "If you try to do that, the President's staff isn't going to stand still for it. It just can't last. In the second place, would it be good for the country to bifurcate the presidency?" Said Rhodes later: "I couldn't believe what I was hearing."

Wednesday Midmorning: The Marathon

Brock and a few others from his breakfast arranged a meeting with Ford at 10 a.m., at which Thompson made a strong case that Ford could serve his nation best by helping to unseat Jimmy Carter. A few even argued that it would be difficult for Reagan to beat Carter without Ford on the ticket. Ford ended the meeting by agreeing to listen to any proposals they might be able to work out with the Reagan staff on just what his role in a Reagan White House would be.

But if he could not bring himself to say no, Ford remained highly skeptical. At a 10:30 a.m. meeting with Aides Barrett and Marsh, joined by Kissinger and Greenspan, Ford pleaded that it was unfair to Reagan to continue the dialogue. But at 11:15 a.m., Reagan's man Casey called; he wanted to meet with Ford's people. "O.K.," Ford said, "you guys can talk to them." But he had not changed his mind about running. "Make sure that's understood."

Now began an eleven-hour-long sequence of shuttle meetings between the Reagan and Ford staffs on the Plaza's upper floors. The Ford team consisted of Greenspan, Kissinger, Barrett and Marsh, all of whom had worked in the White House. The Reagan team consisted of Casey, Meese and Pollster Richard Wirthlin, none of whom had White House experience. Only Casey had headed anything as large as a federal agency (the Securities and Exchange Commission). Tackling an immense problem too late, and faced with an artificial convention deadline only a few hours away, the two groups worked at cross purposes.

Their first meeting was a general discussion of the various staff functions at the White House. Ford's people found the Reaganites unsure of how those functions work. Greenspan did most of the talking for the Ford group. There was no friction. Both sides tried to find a solution that would entice Ford. Concluded Casey: "We've got to get something together [on paper] to show you guys."

Wednesday Afternoon: The Paper

At 2:30 p.m. the Reaganites presented the only document drawn up during the meetings. It was described as merely a "talking paper." It bore no relation to anything so grand as an "agreement," "codicil" or a "treaty of Detroit" outlining a "co-presidency"--terms later bandied wildly about the convention hall. A mere 1 1/2 pages of double-spaced typing, it tried to sketch out how Ford would fit into the decisionmaking and paper flow of the White House. One specific point was that Ford would have daily supervisory authority, but not final power of decision, over the National Security Council, the Office of Management and Budget, and the Council of Economic Advisers. Reagan's team turned the paper over to the Ford group with the low-key comment: "Here's some ideas."

The Ford team found the sketch, as one put it, "not unreasonable." It would, in effect, give Ford control over all paper--and thus advice--that would reach the President. The plan also suggested merging somehow the staffs of the two top leaders in the hope of avoiding clashes. But it was all too vague for Ford's men. They had questions. Just who would be in charge of this amorphous staff? From just which agencies and departments would the paper flow to the Vice President?

When Ford's men brought him the document, he was interested, but he still doubted its feasibility. "Maybe there's a way," he said about a new vice-presidential role, "but I don't think there is." It was now nearing 5 p.m., and, as Ford received yet another personal plea from the Governors and from members of Congress, he began to grow testy--which is not his nature. Yet he had now gone 34 hours with only four hours of sleep, and weariness was taking its toll.

Wednesday, Late Afternoon: A Hitch

Ford telephoned Reagan, asked for a chance to see him. Reagan invited him to come right down. The meeting was brief: a mere 15 minutes. But the tone had turned touchy. Ford seemed a shade too assertive to suit Reagan. "Ron, I'm making a sacrifice here," he said, referring to the possibility of running. "And now I'm asking you to make a sacrifice. I want you to appoint Henry Kissinger as Secretary of State."

Reagan was polite, but blunt. Said he: "Jerry, I know all of Kissinger's strong points, and there's no question that he should play a role. I would use him a lot, but not as Secretary of State. I've been all over this country the last several years, and Kissinger carries a lot of baggage. I couldn't accept that. My own people, in fact, wouldn't accept it."

Wednesday Night: TV Intrudes

Now television stepped in. Its reporters were catching up to the breaking story. At the same time, Ford amiably kept a previously planned date to be interviewed by Walter Cronkite in the CBS booth high above the convention floor. Kissinger and Greenspan both advised against it, but Ford had been interviewed previously by both NBC and ABC, and he felt he owed it to "old Walter," as he called him, to appear.

Awaiting his 7 p.m. appointment with Cronkite, Ford was "dumbfounded," as he later described it, when he heard CBS's Dan Rather detail some of the meetings that had taken place that day in the drive to get Ford to run. Startled that the story was public, Ford recalled: "I didn't know what to do. I couldn't leave. So I tried to be as open as I could." While insisting that he had not yet dropped his opposition to a second-spot candidacy, Ford left the strong possibility that he could yet do so. He said he would not "be a figurehead Vice President," but he might respond to "responsible assurances" that he would "play a meaningful role across the board in the basic and crucial decisions that have to be made."

Ford stepped out of the CBS cage and went over to ABC to tell Barbara Walters that while he was still against the whole idea of running, "the details" of any vice-presidential role for him "can and must be worked out." Said Ford: "I want to participate in a constructive, effective, successful Republican Administration."

As those comments were relayed to party leaders and delegates on the floor, the euphoria of the Reagan-Ford dream proved contagious. Although it was wholly untrue, some Ford associates believed, and promptly told the roving TV reporters, that the ticket was certain and the pair would appear dramatically in the hall that very night to announce their alliance.

One viewer who was not impressed was Ronald Reagan. Furious at what he considered a breach of confidentiality, he fumed to aides: "Can you believe it? Did you hear that?" Then, as time passed, he said, "I sure wish the phone would ring."

The forgotten man, too, was unhappy. Watching with his wife Barbara in their suite in the Pontchartrain, Bush said sadly: "He's going to take it. That's it." One of Bush's sons cursed. Later, waiting offstage to deliver his brief but rousing convention speech, Bush absorbed another blow. A man he did not know came up to him and asked: "Did you know that you are off the list?" Replied Bush with sarcasm: "No, but thanks for the information." Shaken, Bush let the demonstration that greeted his appearance run on longer than planned so he could regain his composure.

Back at the Plaza, the two teams struggled on to break the impasse presented by Ford's reluctance and Reagan's vagueness--and the growing resentment of Reagan's aides at the enormity of Ford's conditions. Said one later: "Ford was really asking the President to abdicate some of his constitutional authority." The fact that Kissinger was so directly involved, shuttling back and forth, added to their irritation. Asked one angrily: "How the hell did he get involved in negotiating Ford's job?"

Growing a bit impatient, Reagan called Ford at 9:15 p.m. to tell him that a decision had to be made that night. Yet Ford could not bring himself to say no. He knew that Greenspan and Kissinger still felt an accommodation could be reached. Ford's response to Reagan's push was noncommittal.

Shortly before 10 p.m., as the Ford and Reagan representatives labored to work out some kind of formula, Kissinger interrupted with a timely thought. "I think that we have something we should say: 'There may not be a decision before tomorrow.' " Wirthlin appreciated Kissinger's realization that the Reaganites felt they were working against a deadline. "Thank you," he said. "We are in a time bind." The Reagan team left to report to their boss.

In Reagan's view, time indeed was running out. Patience, too, was being exhausted by both Reagan and Ford. The two men knew the rumors on the convention floor were getting out of hand. At 10:30 p.m. a weary Ford turned to Betty to declare: "I'm going down to tell him I'm not going to do it." Ford changed into a business suit and at 11 p.m. made the short walk to Reagan's suite. They talked for a mere ten minutes, reflecting none of the bitterness that some of their aides felt over the sudden disintegration of a dream.

Before rushing off to Joe Louis Arena to dispel what was turning into mass confusion, Reagan made an essential phone call. At the Pontchartrain, George Bush had changed into a red polo shirt and khaki trousers. Dejected, he munched on popcorn and sipped a Stroh's beer.

At 11:37 p.m. the phone in his suite rang. His campaign manager, James Baker, picked it up to hear a Reagan aide ask: "Is George Bush there?" Replied Baker: "Who's calling?" The answer: "Governor Reagan."

Bush braced himself for the bad news. His bitter aides had surmised that Reagan probably would announce Ford's acceptance without even a courtesy call to let him down gently. Now he listened as Reagan said: "I plan to go over to the convention and tell them you are my first choice for the nomination." Bush's tense face broke into a grin. To Baker he flashed a signal: Thumbs up.

-- Ed Magnuson

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