THE PRESIDENCY: 5,294-Mile Work Week

From time to time, President Eisenhower can put away his Washington Homburg in favor of a golf cap and a fishing Stetson. But such interludes are necessarily brief. Although technically on vacation, Ike last week traveled more than 5,294 miles and performed nearly every important function of his high office.

Death watch. As Commander in Chief, he flew back to Washington from his Denver vacation headquarters to address the 36th annual convention of the American Legion. Ike told the Legionnaires that establishment of an adequate reserve system would be a keystone of his program next year. Said he: “Wishful thinking and political timidity must no longer bar a program so absolutely essential to our defense.”

After the speech, Ike met with John Foster Dulles, who was keeping a death-watch on EDC. While the two men talked, word came that the French National Assembly had killed the treaty. Ike promptly decided to turn an innocuous speech prepared for the Iowa State Fair into a presidential assessment of the crisis. That after noon he picked up his brother Milton and ex-President Herbert Hoover and with them flew to Des Moines.

Paid in Full. Some 22,000 persons were waiting in the fairgrounds’ grandstand to hear Ike speak. Later in the evening the stage was to be turned over to a theatrical review, including a feature act, “Bessie and Her Bustle.” Now, a National Guard band struggled with Hail to the Chief as the President and Hoover appeared incongruously through a pink-and-white archway designed for a chorus line. For days before Ike’s arrival, Iowa Democrats had been loudly complaining that a decision to admit the public to the fairgrounds free of charge on the day of Ike’s speech was turning the fair into a G.O.P. rally. Ike had his little joke. Waving a dollar bill, he said: “Now. on behalf of the former President of the U.S. and myself, I hereby tender to Governor [William] Beardsley one dollar and hope that he will pass it on to the proper authorities.” The crowd roared with laughter and approval, but Beardsley reacted like a housewife when the important guest offers to help wash the dinner dishes. He stood up, blushed, grinned, tried to keep from taking the money, followed Ike to the speakers’ rostrum before giving up.

In the evening dusk outside the grandstand, a Ferris wheel began to turn, and the yelps of kids on the midway could be heard faintly. In such an atmosphere gloom would have seemed unreal. The President was not gloomy, but he was realistic. The defeat of EDC, he said, was a serious setback. But he added: “The free world is still overwhelmingly strong . . . We are disappointed, but we must not be discouraged . . . We need not despair. We must not.” The crowd caught Ike’s spirit and cheered long and loud.

Nothing Sacred. That night Ike and party flew to Denver; next morning they motored across the continental divide for two days of trout fishing at a ranch owned by two Denver friends. Mortgage Banker Aksel Nielsen and Manufacturer Carl Norgren, near little (pop. 300) Fraser, Colo. Most of the town was waiting in Fraser’s dusty main street to see Ike and Hoover. As Ike stepped out of his car, a man grabbed his hand and said: “Hi, Ike. I’m Curtis Brewer from Abilene.” “Well, for goodness sake,” said Ike, “how are you, and how’s your brother?”

At the ranch a mile down the road, Ike barely had his coat off before he was in the kitchen starting on his big project: a two-day vegetable soup. Hoover, an accomplished fly-fisherman who does not share Ike’s love of cooking, spent more time wading in shallow St. Louis Creek. Next day reporters were allowed on the ranch to watch the President sign the social security bill and invited to stick around and watch him broil a dozen thick steaks on an outdoor grill. Hoover ambled up to the grill. As usual, he was grimly hanging onto his snap-brim hat. Ike invited Hoover to help with the steaks. Hoover seemed reluctant but finally complied when Ike gave him a long-handled fork and suggested: “Here, turn that fella over.”

Some reporters complained that they were not getting enough personal details about Ike’s vacation. Said Hoover: “Thirty years ago we used to believe that there were only two occasions in which the American people have regard for the privacy of the President—in prayer and fishing . . . The press no longer has any respect for the privacy of the President in his fishing. That’s one of the degenerations of the last 30 years.” Asked a reporter: “Are you blaming this degeneration on the Democrats?”Hoover answered: “I’m not doing any politicking at the moment.” When the fishing trip was over, Ike went back to Denver and Hoover flew to New York, where he gave a nice definition of a fishing trip. When asked how many fish he had caught, Hoover said: “You don’t goon a fishing trip to catch fish. You go for the company and to get away and to see the scenery.”

Last week President Eisenhower took off on another trip; his purpose was neither fish nor scenery. He inspected reclamation projects in Kansas, Colorado, Wyoming and Nebraska. He stopped in each state except Kansas to extend friendly greetings to G.O.P. congressional candidates, plugged away in favor of more local control of water power and irrigation projects.