The Presidency: A Different Kind of Cuttin’

THE PRESIDENCY

The doctor’s orders had been quite specific: no driving for three weeks after the operation. And the patient was plainly suffering physical discomfort. During services at the First Christian Church in Johnson City last week, Lyndon Johnson squirmed and squinched around the pew during the sermon, nervously clipped his nails while the choir sang Living for Jesus, even fidgeted during the preacher’s prayer for “the rapid recovery of Thy servant, our President.”

After church, Lyndon dutifully let Lady Bird chauffeur him away in their beige Lincoln Continental. When she stopped to inspect a new park a short distance away, the President made his move. Because the steel sutures from his Nov. 16 “cuttin’ ” were still in his abdo men (they were removed at week’s end), it was a painful maneuver, but Johnson managed to hoist himself behind the steering wheel and blithely drove away. After a turn through Johnson City, a quick circle around his boyhood home, and a short spin down an old gravel road, the President hit the main highway and drove the ten miles back to the ranch.

No Slugabed. Editorial writers chided Johnson for flouting doctor’s orders, but his physician resolved the dilemma by hedging his postoperative advice. Mayo’s Dr. James Cain, an old Johnson friend, said diplomatically: “I meant that President Johnson should not drive a car over rough ranch roads where a sudden stop might be necessary.”

So the recuperation continued—L.B.J. style. Though the President’s throat was still sore from the removal of the polyp on his vocal cord, he held lengthy, vigorous phone conversations with Administration leaders in Washington. The President stayed in his room late some mornings, but he was not, it was explained, being a slugabed. Propped up on pillows, he labored over intelligence reports, diplomatic cables, and of course the federal budget. The word went out from the ranch that $1.1 billion—25% of the $4.4 billion total allocated—would be chopped from the federal highway program, an economy move that will delay road building in every state in the Union.

Stream of Visitors. At midweek, Defense-Secretary Robert McNamara, Secretary of State Dean Rusk and Presidential Assistant Walt Rostow arrived to discuss world issues—from Viet Nam to NATO. The stream of visitors continued daily. The last of the Gemini astronauts, James Lovell Jr. and Edwin Aldrin, came to be decorated by the President, along with a galaxy of NASA and space industry officials. On Thanksgiving, Pat and Luci Nugent, Lynda Bird, Lyndon’s Aunt Jessie Hatcher and his cousin, Oriole Bailey, along with Lady Bird’s nephew, T. J. Taylor III and his family, and Mrs. Jessie Hunter, curator of the President’s boyhood home, dropped in to eat turkey (one domestic, one wild), cornbread dressing, string beans, whipped sweet potatoes with marshmallow topping, molded cranberry salad and angel food cake.

Next day, Housing and Urban Development Secretary Robert Weaver, White House Aide Joseph Califano’ Budget Director Charles Schultze, Vice President Humphrey and congressional leaders from both parties—Senate Majority Leader Mike Mansfield, House Majority Leader Carl Albert, House Majority Whip Hale Boggs, House Appropriations Committee Chairman George Mahon, Senate Minority Leader Everett Dirksen and House Minority Leader Gerald Ford—gathered to talk about potential Administration budget cuts. It was the first bipartisan session of congressional leaders ever held at the ranch, and the get-together was so redolent of harmony that L.B.J. even took a back chair during a press conference while the Republicans lauded his intended economies. Jerry Ford said he was “heartily in accord” with Lyndon’s approach; Dirksen boomed that “it certainly does make us happy.”

At week’s end, the President repeated his promise to make budget cuts of at least $3 billion. That, if past form is any indication, meant that Lyndon Johnson plans to “surprise” everyone by slicing off considerably more.