The Nation: Scenes: Something for Everybody

A LOT of people look upon second inaugurations much as they do upon second weddings: they are really not worth the trouble. In spite of such sentiment, or perhaps because of it, the 1973 Inaugural Committee staged a threeday, $4,000,000 extravaganza to mark what the President’s admirer, Bob Hope, referred to as “the time when Richard I becomes Richard II.”

It was a somber noon at the great plaza of the Capitol-the sky heavy with dull gray clouds, the flags at half-mast in honor of the late President Truman-when Richard Nixon appeared in front of the building to repeat his oath, using the same two family Bibles as last time and in fact wearing the same clothes and the same expression. Then came the dull thud of cannon firing 21 salutes, the strains of the Marine Band playing Hail to the Chief and, far away and faintly, the sea sounds of chanted protest.

The second Nixon Inaugural was the most ambitious in Washington’s history of events, official and social. Inaugural planners worried a bit about an embarrassing letdown, so they worked on a hard sell in the hawking of commemorative medallions, parade tickets, concert seats and ball boxes. The effort paid off; the undertaking is expected to wind up comfortably in the black, leaving a tidy surplus to be turned over to charities selected by the Nixons.

On hand to mix it up with other lucky recipients of genuine invitations (some 200,000 souvenir invitations “suitable for framing” but otherwise useless had been mailed out) were 200 relatives of the Nixons, many of whom had never before met their famous kin. To handle their needs, a special task force was set up at the Watergate, with Navy enlisted men manning the telephones and Army officers planning the logistics. Six red-white-and-blue buses marked FIRST FAMILY transported the assembled relations around town.

The President had set as the theme of the Inauguration festivities “the Spirit of ’76,” pointing to the bicentennial that will wind up his second term. The theme, however, proved to be a bit vague to be translated into specifics. The best the organizers could do was to provide dresses of the Revolutionary period for the hostesses at candlelight dinners at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. Then somebody came up with the idea of a marching band with a symbolic number of players -1,976. So every high school in suburban Virginia’s Fairfax County produced young musicians to form a band that stretched for two blocks.

Bargain. The President himself pursued a course of wisdom by staying out of sight until Friday night. Then he joined Pat and the rest of the family for a round of concert hopping, ending at the Kennedy Center, where the Philadelphia Orchestra played the 75/2 Overture, sans cannon.

Following tradition, the big show opened Thursday afternoon at the Smithsonian Museum with a reception honoring Vice President and Mrs. Spiro T. Agnew. Invited guests (at $10 a head, this was one of the best bargains of the Inauguration) were met at the door by security guards, who peeked into the handbags and briefcases of the Republican faithful. The guests then squeezed themselves into a line on the off chance that they might get to shake a vice-presidential hand.

Later Thursday evening, while the President was still en route from Key Biscayne back to Washington, the first glamour event of the week, a “Salute to the States,” opened at the Kennedy Center. It was aimed at the nation’s Governors-40 of whom showed up. To accommodate the almost 5,000 other guests-including Pat Nixon, daughter Julie, and Mamie Eisenhower-a 2½hr, show ran simultaneously in two separate halls. Eminent emcees Frank Sinatra and Bob Hope scrambled on and off stages in an admirable attempt to provide equal time to all. Breaking out of his retirement once more, Sinatra came up singing Fly Me to the Moon, while Hope kept up patter about the security precautions. Sample: “I’ve never been frisked so many times. Not that I mind-it’s cheaper than a massage parlor.” Such was the spectacle of security men literally tripping over one another that the audience roared when Hope joked: “I passed a tree and it cleared its throat.”

The one thing that induces people to mortgage their houses in order to attend an Inaugural is the possibility of arriving home with word that they met the President. Barring that, someone famous and powerful, with a household name, will do. For many of the Inaugural guests, however, the difficulties were considerable. Oversubscribed events resulted in mob scenes around carefully protected superstars like Henry Kissinger, with Date Nancy Maginnes. Autographing for an eager crowd at the J.F.K. Center Thursday night, Kissinger seemed caught up in the melee but looked around and asked owlishly, “Where is everybody?”

Protests. There are always a few people who never miss inaugurals and coronations. Among the more solvent of them this time around were the Henry Fords and W. Clement Stone. The Fords threw a private bash at the F Street Club, where Martha Mitchell and Husband John, lately of New York, got a chance to see their old Washington friends. Outside the club, in a scene reminiscent of a college football movie, George Washington University students cheered the guests on in the friendliest of ways. They were duly rewarded with a five-minute impromptu performance by Bob Hope, on his way into the party. In semi-unison, the students called to Mr. Ford: “Don’t come outthrow dollars out the window.” Stone, who has boasted of being the fattest cat among Nixon contributors, hosted a banquet for Congressional Medal of Honor winners on Saturday evening.

Generally ignored in the inexorable grind of official partying were the scattered and quiet protests against the war and presumably against the President. Friday night, while the strains of three concerts filled the air at the Kennedy

Center, Leonard Bernstein conducted a counter-Inaugural concert at Washington Cathedral. Three thousand people applauded the performance of Haydn’s Mass In Time of War by the pickup orchestra inside the cathedral, while another 12,000 listened outside. Dean Francis Sayre Jr. and former Senator Eugene McCarthy spoke briefly to an audience that included Senator and Mrs. Edward Kennedy and Mrs. Sargent Shriver. On Saturday an unexpectedly large turnout of antiwar demonstrators, estimated at 75,000 by D.C. police, gathered quietly at the Lincoln Memorial to form their “March Against Death and for Peace.” Arriving at the Washington Monument, the crowd heard Representative Bella Abzug scold Nixon’s Inaugural executive director, Jeb Magruder: “He wanted us to call off our demonstration because he feared the counter-Inaugural would affect the sale of his plaques.” She praised 150 of her fellow legislators for boycotting the ceremonies. Bearing out-of-date signs reading STOP THE BOMBING, the demonstration seemed passive, as though it commemorated the many marches that had gone before.

The purpose of the five balls on Inaugural night, as stated in the official press information kit, was “to celebrate the Inauguration of President Nixon in a festive, traditional manner.” To that end, 25 musical groups performed at five sites-the Serendipity Singers at the Museum of National History, Lionel Hampton at the Kennedy Center and Guy Lombardo at the Pension Building. As promised, the President and Mrs. Nixon stopped in at each of these, as well as the special Youth Ball for the 18-to-30 set at the Sheraton Park Hotel.

Later they moved to another ball at the Smithsonian Museum of History and Technology, where Mr. Nixon’s spirits seemed higher than usual. He gaily entertained the crowd with talk of his love of music. Waving his hands in imitation of a practiced conductor, he noted that he played Bach and Rachmaninoff late at night in the White House when trying to make “unimportant decisions.” Relaxed and jovial, he asked the band to play something slow, and invited the assembled to “cut in on us.” As he and Mrs. Nixon made their way toward a staircase, the President flashed a big smile and asked: “Could somebody tell me where the dance floor is, please?”

Pat Nixon, who had been almost as sensible as her husband in appearing at many of the special events in clothes that she already had, glittered in a long-sleeved turquoise ballgown designed by Adele Simpson. Recovering from the flu, Tricia Nixon Cox, escorted by Husband Ed, wore a rose-red satin gown. Julie Nixon Eisenhower, whose husband sat out the week’s events on duty in the Mediterranean, wore a long white satin dress and woollen fox-trimmed cape to match as she made her round of the evening galas.

The last echoes of the installation rite were heard Sunday at one event that was, however elitely attended, at least free. An ecumenical worship service at the White House, starring Billy Graham and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, ended the Inaugural pomp on a note that Mr. Nixon seems to find most comfortable.

Despite the variety offered at this year’s Inauguration, a number of prominent Republicans followed their instincts and stayed home. Wiley T. Buchanan, protocol chief under Eisenhower and a man who knows how to make the best of formal occasions, announced that he was going to “sit this one out.” Like most Americans, he watched the show on television.