Stopping By Richard Nixon's

One of my favorite activities in New York City was to visit Former President Richard M. Nixon's house. He lived in a sweet little townhouse on the Upper East Side (142 East 65th Street). We probably stopped by ten times while I lived there. I would drag friends there in a taxi, or car, if someone had one. The President never actually came out to greet us.

A few years after he resigned, he returned east from his California exile. This is the President who wanted to send me to Vietnam, so I had mixed feelings, indeed, about this man. He kept the Great Society funded, even as he lied and weaseled his way to disgrace. What could you think of the ex red-baiter who went to China and opened diplomatic relations? He was a two-edged sword, which made him endlessly fascinating. And I frequently went there to pay homage to both Good King Richard and Evil Dick.

These visits would almost always occur around closing time (did I even need to mention that?). I seem to recall often having a bottle or go cup in hand, as we stood outside the townhouse for ten or fifteen minutes. I always secretly hoped he might spy us and come out (like the time he visited the students at the Lincoln Memorial). I'd like to think he maybe heard us once or twice!

Interestingly, in all of those visits, the Secret Service never came near us. We saw them a few times, but no matter how loud and raucous we got, they never approached. I guess that makes sense. There were 20 million people living within an easy car drive of 142 East 65th Street. I was probably not the only knucklehead among the 20 million to stop by--or worse. Eventually, in the mid-eighties, Richard Nixon and I both moved from Manhattan. He moved to Saddle River, New Jersey and wrote a lot of books, as well as advising every President in some capacity. He died ten years ago, in New York. /jack
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