On Politics and Parks: People, Places, Politics, Parks

9. Jake

97 I never met a person more suited to be a member of Congress than Jake Pickle. I didn’t realize that until after his win in a special election on December 21, 1963. I knew about Jake, but because he had such a reputation as being a mainstay of the conservative Democrats I was prepared not to like him. Under the congressional patronage system that existed at the time, coveted positions were controlled by seniority. Without fanfare those jobs passed within a state delegation to the next-longest-serving member. With Thornberry’s move to the federal judgeship, I fell into and then immediately out of Congressman Clark Thompson’s jurisdiction . Thompson had served the Galveston area for many years. His wife was the daughter of banker William Lewis Moody Jr.—very wealthy and high on everyone’s social calendar. Thompson was sixty-seven then, altogether a loyal but conservative Democrat with no bridges to build or dreams to fulfill. He certainly had no need for a young, full-of-piss-and-vinegar part-time worker. So by arrangement I held the doorman’s job under Thompson’s patronage, but would work for Jake Pickle because he had plans and he was President Johnson’s congressman, which would add prestige but also responsibilities . ฀s a newly elected junior member he would receive minimum allocations for salary, office space, and office location, so a free helping hand was an unexpected bonus for him. For me it would be the break of a lifetime. The problem was that no one mentioned the split arrangement to Jake. ฀s it turned out, we’d meet sooner than expected. President Johnson’s first crucial congressional vote was a Russian wheat deal, which would allow the sale of ฀merican wheat to the communist Soviet Union. This was important to grain farmers, but despised by ultra-conservatives. For reasons unimportant here, the deal began to fall apart in the Senate after the House had approved it and all but adjourned for the Christmas holidays Jake CHAPTER 9 EARLY POLITICAL YEARS 98 of 1963. I had sensed that at that Christmas—more than most—members of Congress and their staffs needed to leave town following the trauma of President Kennedy’s assassination . Many of the members had served with Kennedy in the House. Regardless of political persuasion, they were visibly moved and deeply saddened. Like most humans, they longed for the protective arms of home, and at the appropriate moment they fled the capital. ฀fter the Senate changed the bill, the House members needed to be rounded up and brought back. Fortunately someone remembered that Jake Pickle had been duly elected and was eligible to be sworn in as a voting member, and the president needed every vote. So Jake and his wife, Beryl, hurriedly flew to Washington—dropping their Christmas plans in order to support their president. ฀s a House doorman I was empowered to find and bring House members back to the Capitol, by force if necessary. During that crucial debate on the Russian wheat deal, it almost became necessary. The battle raged back and forth between the House and Senate. ฀t some point, I’m guessing December 22 or 23, it appeared as if a deal had been struck, and representatives again left for the holidays. I had to use congressional privilege to keep canceling and rescheduling a flight to Minnesota, because Jo฀nn and I were going to her parents’ for Christmas. Then the Senate reneged on the deal again. We had to call airlines and airports to collar members of Congress and ask them to return again. We had to alert state highway patrol offices to be on the lookout for certain cars with certain license plates. One congressman from the South, when stopped, demanded to know by what authority was he being commanded to return to Washington. “By the Commander-in-Chief of the United States of ฀merica!,” the officer roared. The congressman turned back. Some members had to be sought in restaurants and bars, and others in places requiring even more discretion. But one was open in his indiscretions. He simply told us he’d be in his car, parked in front of the Capitol, and that I should go out and bang on the trunk. ฀ little later he’d come, vote, and then hurry back out. To my knowledge he never missed a vote. This particular vote was going to be very close, and...