Free Speech is history. Speaking out is fraught with danger, mostly from people on the political left, which is odd to me. I seem to remember a guy named Abbie Hoffman, and a comedian named Lenny Bruce who were being ostracized for dropping "F-bombs" every time they opened their mouths, and the uber-liberal faculty at the University of California at Berkley supporting their rights to Free Speech. Today? The Berkley (often referred to as "Bezerkley") campus and it's liberal extremist faculty have taught their students to "shout-down," and violently protest any ideology except for that of the far-far-left. That once-honored bastion of knowledge has become just another liberal indoctrination center, and is a prime-candidate to become "The World's Largest Outdoor Lunatic Asylum".
Despite my claim of being "nobody," I've lived a pretty weird life. In brief, I was born to Nixon/Reagan Republican parents, who voted for Nixon four times... for President in 1960, California Governor in '62, and again for President in '68 and '72). Hanging on the wall [and I just caught the significance] to my right, is a picture of Richard M. Nixon and his wife Pat, standing on their patio at the Casa de Pacifica in San Clemente, California. It's a color, 8X10" picture on a white matte background, framed in a 10X16' wooden frame. It is autographed by both the former-POTUS and First Lady, which, according to the man who procured it for me, makes it a very rare picture, because, "Pat never signs anything." The greeting, "To Jackie and Scott Martin, With best wishes from..." followed by the two signatures, and the date "12/20/77," all of which (except Pat Nixon's signature) was written by Mr. Nixon himself.
I got the picture through a friend of a guy in my office. Chief John Newberg was an Operations Specialist (E-7), and sat at the desk across from mine for two years. When our Division Officer, LT Tom Mortimer, chose not to renew his Commission in the summer of 1977, John obtained a framed, "official photograph" of the former President, autographed, "To LT Tom Mortimer, Fair winds, and following seas. Best Wishes [Richard M. Nixon]. Prior to the LT's departure party, John let me see the picture, and I remarked that my parents would probably flip if he could manage to get another one.
At that point, John Newberg explained that he was friends with a guy who had been the Presidential Secretary to Presidents Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon, and that when Nixon resigned in 1974, Carl remained with the Nixon's, becoming the former-President's personal secretary. John said that there was a "good chance" that I could get the picture, and that he would ask Carl whenever he saw him again.
Timing is everything, and I have had the worst timing. The day after we had the conversation, the Nixon's left on a trip, and there was no scheduled return other than, "Before the first of the year (1978)". July passed, as did August and September, and the Nixon's were still on their trip, which meant that Carl was away with them. When Halloween gave way to November, I asked John Newberg if he'd heard anything from Carl recently. John said that he'd heard that Nixon was supposed to be home around Thanksgiving, but hadn't heard from Carl to confirm that. I asked John to let me know when he heard anything.
A couple of days after Thanksgiving, I saw a report on the local TV news, that the Nixon's were back at the Casa de Pacifica, following a five-month absence, and a glimmer of hope arose. My original plan was to get the picture, and just send it to my parents, but we were planning on going to their house for Christmas, so I thought it would make a great Christmas gift, and I probably made John Newberg's life a living Hell, because I asked him, daily, if he'd talked to Carl.
Finally, in what I imagine was tinged in desperation, John picked up the phone, dialed an Autovon number, and talked with Carl. John asked about the picture, and started writing down the directions he was receiving. When the call ended, John handed me the page with the notes, and explained how it would all go down.
John had made the contact on Tuesday, December 13, 1977. Carl told him it would take him seven days to acquire it, and that I (me?) was to meet him (wearing my uniform) at the San Clemente Inn, at 1500 (3 pm.), and that if I wasn't in front of the entrance, the car wouldn't stop before it returned home, at which time I would receive it in the mail, sometime after New Year's.
My obsession with punctuality (I am always 15 to 30 minutes early for everything) proved to be in my favor, as at 1500-sharp, a black Lincoln Continental pulled up, the back door opened, and a two men got out, Carl and a Secret Service Agent. Carl identified himself, and presented me with an envelope, and we shook hands while I thanked him profusely. As I was about to step away, Carl smiled and asked, "Aren't you going to look at what I've given you?"
I was 26 back then, and not real perceptive. I didn't get that Carl was hinting at something, so I told him, "Nah! I'm sure it's fine," and started to walk back to my car. Carl said, "I really think you should see what I gave you, I want to make sure you got what you wanted."
I stopped, turned around, and finally noticed that he was grinning at me. "OK," I told him, and I proceeded to open the envelope. Inside was the picture that is currently hanging on my wall, glued to the white poster board, but there was no signature. "Um... Sir? I was hoping to get the "official" photo, and his signature." Although I tried very hard not to let it show, I'm sure my disappointment was pretty obvious.
It was then, that Carl introduced his companion, the Secret Service-guy. "I brought him along because I have something different in mind, something you might enjoy a little more than just an autographed, official portrait photograph. Now, if you'll empty your pockets, and allow yourself to be frisked, we can get down to business."
I took off my White Hat, put the contents of my pockets into it, and gave them to Carl who had volunteered to hold them during the "pat-down". The people in the lobby of the Inn were all watching this "Swab" get frisked by a guy in a dark suit and sunglasses, ushered into a limousine, and whisked-away in the direction of the freeway.
Turning off, well before reaching the freeway, we followed a small, private road down the hill, and towards the ocean. We came to a gate, where a guard gave "the eye" to everyone in the limo, and asked who I was. Carl explained that this had all been previously approved, gave him my name, and we were allowed access to the property. We continued towards the main house, parking outside the entrance to Richard Nixon's office, and going inside.
So I can attest to the authenticity of the picture, as I actually met Mr. Nixon, spoke with him about my parents being such ardent supporters, and my intentions. As he began to write the greeting, he asked for my parent's first-names, then penned the greeting, signed, and dated the picture. I expressed my deepest gratitude for being able to infringe upon his time, and as we were shaking hands, he looked at me, and said, "Wait a minute." Whereupon he pushed a button on the intercom on his desk and said, "Pat, would you come to my office, please?" I heard the response, "Just a sec." followed by footsteps approaching the inner door.
Patricia Nixon entered the room, and surveyed the scene that she'd encountered. Turning to the President, she asked him, "Do you need something?"
"Yes," the former-POTUS replied, briefly explaining what I had told him about my parents, and my plans for the picture, ending with, "... and I thought I'd have you sign this as well."
I didn't understand it, at the time, but she got kinda huffy, snatched a pen from the desk, smiled at me, and gave a withering glare to Carl, scribbled her name, dropped the pen, spun on her heel, and left the room.
It wasn't until we were in the limo, on our way back to the San Clemente Inn, that Carl told me of Mrs. Nixon's distain for signing autographs, and I got the context for her behavior. While the President was explaining about the picture, Mrs. Nixon was fairly beaming, smiling at me, and shaking my hand, until the request for her signature. It was as if someone threw a switch, and she went from cordial to cool. I asked Carl why she signed it, if she didn't like to do autographs, and he explained that the President had put her in a "position". Carl continued, "He must have been impressed with your story about your parents, or he wouldn't have done it. If he'd had me take it to her, and request her signature, she'd probably say 'No,'. Mrs. Nixon is very private, even more so, after the past three years, so she's very concerned about her 'image'. By the President asking for her signature, in front of you, she couldn't refuse, at the risk of damaging her image." Hence the reason for her "huffiness".
On Christmas Day, we'd had the picture framed, gift-wrapped, and placed under the tree. The five of us, Mom, Dad, Mary, soon-to-be-three year-old Tyffany, and I sat on the living room floor, in my parents condo, with me "playing Santa" (basically just handing out the presents to the proper recipients), making sure that "our gift" was the last one.
Mom and Dad had got up on the sofa, by that time, so I looked around the tree, and said, "Well, there's just one present left, and it's to Grandma and Grandpa, from Steve, Mary, and Tyffany." I picked up the package, and put it on the coffee table in front of my parents.
Mom gave it the old, "Gee, I wonder what this could be," as she picked it up, and proceeded to rip at the wrapping paper. Once opened, she looked at it for a long time, showing it to my dad, who also looked at it for a while.
Mom: "Is this real?"
Me: "Yes."
Mom: "You actually got THE Richard Nixon... Richard M. Nixon... PRESIDENT Richard M. Nixon to sign this picture for you?"
Me: "Yes."
Mom: "You're kidding me, right? You had somebody who could forge Nixon's signature, right?"
Me: "No mother. I asked a guy I work with to ask his buddy, who's Nixon's secretary, if he could get it for me, and I actually got to meet President and Mrs. Nixon, and watch them sign it."
Mom: [stunned silence]
Dad: "Well, that's a gift that's pretty unique."
I mean... I knew they'd like it, but I didn't expect them to get THAT choked up...
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