12:45 P.M. Detroit Michigan, July 14, 1980
Barely ten minutes after landing, Nancy Reagan was already out of the plane and bundled into a similarly claustrophobic limousine. She took great care to present a face of calm and strength to the scattered reporters who shouted questions to her about how she felt about Ron’s accident, but she ignored them.
She considered demanding to be taken to the hospital but knew that it wouldn’t do any good. Ron was in surgery, she wouldn’t be allowed there. Instead she would have to go to the convention hall…
The old anger began to resurface, how could they be so insensitive? Thinking of politics at a time like this, when Ron was so vulnerable and broken. Thinking of throwing away what she and Ron had earned with their own blood, sweat and tears. The thought was like rubbing salt into an open wound, it kept the anger alive and fresh, like an exposed nerve.
As city streets still damp with rain raced past, Nancy thought about what she would say.
The bang of a backfire snapped her from those thoughts, and as the limousine ground to a halt on the side of the road, smoke and steam pouring from underneath the hood, Nancy Reagan swore for the first, but not the last, time that day.
12:54 P.M. Detroit Michigan, July 14, 1980
George Bush was slightly concerned about Howard Baker, but confident that Nancy would have the sense to endorse him. His earlier inhibitions surrounding taking up the mantle of a fallen man had melted away as the reality of the situation set in and the path to power became apparent.
Baker was only a few feet away, both of them making small talk as they waited for Nancy to arrive. Bush liked Baker and thought that he would make a great Majority Leader in the senate, but at the moment knew that he would probably be willing to attack the man with everything that he had if it meant that he got the nomination.
Connally was less of a threat, if he even was one at all. He had slid out of the discussion at some point and instead engaged in a conversation with Ford. Connally got along better with Ford, Nixon and the other old school politicians Bush noted. He didn’t like Connally very much but still made an effort to be polite whenever they spoke.
Checking his watch, he was about to ask where Nancy was when somebody jogged over from the phone.
“Mrs. Reagan’s car broke down, she’s going to be late.” Bush sighed, that meant even less time to speak with her about endorsement choices. Of course, she probably had a pretty firm idea in her mind anyways, and from what he had heard, Nancy Reagan was supposed to be extraordinarily stubborn when she was set on an issue.
“Any idea when she’s gonna get here?” Baker asked, the staffer who had brought them the news shrugged.
“Twenty minutes, maybe a little more.” Connally, who had come close enough to hear the news, sipped a glass of water.
“Hmm.” He vocalized, then drifted away again. Bush decided to get a drink. He had a feeling that he would need it.
1:00 P.M. Detroit Michigan, July 14, 1980
Donald Rumsfeld had arrived late to the convention and as a result had nearly been locked out of the back room. However, as soon as the security agents at the door realized that he was a former Secretary of Defense, and a very miffed one at that, they had sped him in.
He had said hello to some of his old colleagues and had even exchanged a few words with Ford, who had mentioned that he was going to dinner with John Connally and a few others. Rumsfeld had politely declined the invitation, he was better off hanging around Howard Baker and the other rising stars of the convention than Ford. Ford’s usefulness to him had been outlived only a few days before.
Back then he had given Reagan some choice advice about running mates and very subtly added that he was interested. Reagan might have chosen him...but unfortunately he had taken a spill and now here everybody was.
Baker was standing next to George Bush and a few others, most of them Reagan staffers and campaign executives. Rumsfeld neatly separated them as he stepped forward and extended a hand. Bush gave him a look that wasn’t entirely friendly as he did so, and Rumsfeld felt a slight sense of regret about shoehorning Bush into the CIA back during the Ford administration. Now the son of a bitch was the presumptive frontrunner…
He would have been better off letting Ford take Bush on as Vice President...then he would have been safely crushed in ’76 and maybe now in 1980 he, Donald Rumsfeld, would be in a better position. Ah, hindsight...what a fickle thing it was.
“Howard,” he said, displaying a toothy grin, “how are you?” Baker smiled politely at him and shook his hand.
“I’m just fine Don, how are you?” Rumsfeld nodded.
“I’ve been alright. I’m missing Washington though, how is it?” Rumsfeld steered Baker away as he asked, leaving a small clot of staffers to form next to Bush. The Texan hardly seemed to notice.
“It‘s the same as it always is,” Baker said, “now what’s this about Don?” For a moment Rumsfeld was slightly taken aback, then he decided to be blunt. Sort of.
“I’d like to help you out. I know that you’ve got a legitimate shot at the nomination and I’d like to help you out with that. My name carries some clout here...” Baker looked amused, but also somewhat interested.
“So you want to become my running mate.” He said, smiling tightly. Rumsfeld had to work very hard to keep himself from looking surprised at Baker’s deduction.
“Yes,” he said, deciding that playing along was the best route, “I would certainly provide ideological balance, and I could help you usurp Bush.” Baker didn’t look thrilled by the last part of Rumsfeld’s statement.
“I’m not going to challenge him if he gets the endorsement.”
“No, of course not,” Rumsfeld said hastily, “I meant if Bush tried to challenge you in the event that you got the endorsement.” That seemed to mollify Baker and Rumsfeld let out an internal sigh of relief.
“I’ll give it some thought Don.” Baker said after a few moments of silence, and both of them walked back into the room. Rumsfeld felt exhilarated all of the sudden, but even as joy from one success flowed through him, more problems reared their ugly heads. He would need to figure out a way to get Baker the endorsement...and that wasn’t promising to be an easy task.
Nancy Reagan would probably already want to give it to Bush, which Rumsfeld didn’t want. It would mean that he was effectively exiled from Washington for another four to eight years. Rumsfeld hated making powerful enemies, it was only a matter of time before one of them ended up becoming President.
He passed Connally without comment and went to get a drink before reconsidering. He only drank when he needed to impress somebody, and he had already impressed Baker. Now he just needed to get to Nancy Reagan, hopefully that wouldn’t be too hard.
1:08 P.M. Detroit Michigan, July 14, 1980
Helms knew that he had the North Carolina delegation locked down, but that would not be nearly enough. Thurmond’s influence would grant him South Carolina as well, but he knew that he needed more if he wanted to make an impression on everyone watching the first ballot.
Nancy Reagan would be arriving at any moment now, and hopefully he would get a chance to speak with some of the conservative leaders as soon as Bush, Connally and Baker were gone. They were the primary obstacles to his candidacy, once they were out of the way then he could clear the way for the nomination, and then the White House.
For a moment he let himself think about how great the feeling of accomplishment would be once he was confirmed as the party’s nominee, then snapped back to the present. He still needed to put all of that together, before Bush and the other moderates snatched it away.
Barely ten minutes after landing, Nancy Reagan was already out of the plane and bundled into a similarly claustrophobic limousine. She took great care to present a face of calm and strength to the scattered reporters who shouted questions to her about how she felt about Ron’s accident, but she ignored them.
She considered demanding to be taken to the hospital but knew that it wouldn’t do any good. Ron was in surgery, she wouldn’t be allowed there. Instead she would have to go to the convention hall…
The old anger began to resurface, how could they be so insensitive? Thinking of politics at a time like this, when Ron was so vulnerable and broken. Thinking of throwing away what she and Ron had earned with their own blood, sweat and tears. The thought was like rubbing salt into an open wound, it kept the anger alive and fresh, like an exposed nerve.
As city streets still damp with rain raced past, Nancy thought about what she would say.
The bang of a backfire snapped her from those thoughts, and as the limousine ground to a halt on the side of the road, smoke and steam pouring from underneath the hood, Nancy Reagan swore for the first, but not the last, time that day.
12:54 P.M. Detroit Michigan, July 14, 1980
George Bush was slightly concerned about Howard Baker, but confident that Nancy would have the sense to endorse him. His earlier inhibitions surrounding taking up the mantle of a fallen man had melted away as the reality of the situation set in and the path to power became apparent.
Baker was only a few feet away, both of them making small talk as they waited for Nancy to arrive. Bush liked Baker and thought that he would make a great Majority Leader in the senate, but at the moment knew that he would probably be willing to attack the man with everything that he had if it meant that he got the nomination.
Connally was less of a threat, if he even was one at all. He had slid out of the discussion at some point and instead engaged in a conversation with Ford. Connally got along better with Ford, Nixon and the other old school politicians Bush noted. He didn’t like Connally very much but still made an effort to be polite whenever they spoke.
Checking his watch, he was about to ask where Nancy was when somebody jogged over from the phone.
“Mrs. Reagan’s car broke down, she’s going to be late.” Bush sighed, that meant even less time to speak with her about endorsement choices. Of course, she probably had a pretty firm idea in her mind anyways, and from what he had heard, Nancy Reagan was supposed to be extraordinarily stubborn when she was set on an issue.
“Any idea when she’s gonna get here?” Baker asked, the staffer who had brought them the news shrugged.
“Twenty minutes, maybe a little more.” Connally, who had come close enough to hear the news, sipped a glass of water.
“Hmm.” He vocalized, then drifted away again. Bush decided to get a drink. He had a feeling that he would need it.
1:00 P.M. Detroit Michigan, July 14, 1980
Donald Rumsfeld had arrived late to the convention and as a result had nearly been locked out of the back room. However, as soon as the security agents at the door realized that he was a former Secretary of Defense, and a very miffed one at that, they had sped him in.
He had said hello to some of his old colleagues and had even exchanged a few words with Ford, who had mentioned that he was going to dinner with John Connally and a few others. Rumsfeld had politely declined the invitation, he was better off hanging around Howard Baker and the other rising stars of the convention than Ford. Ford’s usefulness to him had been outlived only a few days before.
Back then he had given Reagan some choice advice about running mates and very subtly added that he was interested. Reagan might have chosen him...but unfortunately he had taken a spill and now here everybody was.
Baker was standing next to George Bush and a few others, most of them Reagan staffers and campaign executives. Rumsfeld neatly separated them as he stepped forward and extended a hand. Bush gave him a look that wasn’t entirely friendly as he did so, and Rumsfeld felt a slight sense of regret about shoehorning Bush into the CIA back during the Ford administration. Now the son of a bitch was the presumptive frontrunner…
He would have been better off letting Ford take Bush on as Vice President...then he would have been safely crushed in ’76 and maybe now in 1980 he, Donald Rumsfeld, would be in a better position. Ah, hindsight...what a fickle thing it was.
“Howard,” he said, displaying a toothy grin, “how are you?” Baker smiled politely at him and shook his hand.
“I’m just fine Don, how are you?” Rumsfeld nodded.
“I’ve been alright. I’m missing Washington though, how is it?” Rumsfeld steered Baker away as he asked, leaving a small clot of staffers to form next to Bush. The Texan hardly seemed to notice.
“It‘s the same as it always is,” Baker said, “now what’s this about Don?” For a moment Rumsfeld was slightly taken aback, then he decided to be blunt. Sort of.
“I’d like to help you out. I know that you’ve got a legitimate shot at the nomination and I’d like to help you out with that. My name carries some clout here...” Baker looked amused, but also somewhat interested.
“So you want to become my running mate.” He said, smiling tightly. Rumsfeld had to work very hard to keep himself from looking surprised at Baker’s deduction.
“Yes,” he said, deciding that playing along was the best route, “I would certainly provide ideological balance, and I could help you usurp Bush.” Baker didn’t look thrilled by the last part of Rumsfeld’s statement.
“I’m not going to challenge him if he gets the endorsement.”
“No, of course not,” Rumsfeld said hastily, “I meant if Bush tried to challenge you in the event that you got the endorsement.” That seemed to mollify Baker and Rumsfeld let out an internal sigh of relief.
“I’ll give it some thought Don.” Baker said after a few moments of silence, and both of them walked back into the room. Rumsfeld felt exhilarated all of the sudden, but even as joy from one success flowed through him, more problems reared their ugly heads. He would need to figure out a way to get Baker the endorsement...and that wasn’t promising to be an easy task.
Nancy Reagan would probably already want to give it to Bush, which Rumsfeld didn’t want. It would mean that he was effectively exiled from Washington for another four to eight years. Rumsfeld hated making powerful enemies, it was only a matter of time before one of them ended up becoming President.
He passed Connally without comment and went to get a drink before reconsidering. He only drank when he needed to impress somebody, and he had already impressed Baker. Now he just needed to get to Nancy Reagan, hopefully that wouldn’t be too hard.
1:08 P.M. Detroit Michigan, July 14, 1980
Helms knew that he had the North Carolina delegation locked down, but that would not be nearly enough. Thurmond’s influence would grant him South Carolina as well, but he knew that he needed more if he wanted to make an impression on everyone watching the first ballot.
Nancy Reagan would be arriving at any moment now, and hopefully he would get a chance to speak with some of the conservative leaders as soon as Bush, Connally and Baker were gone. They were the primary obstacles to his candidacy, once they were out of the way then he could clear the way for the nomination, and then the White House.
For a moment he let himself think about how great the feeling of accomplishment would be once he was confirmed as the party’s nominee, then snapped back to the present. He still needed to put all of that together, before Bush and the other moderates snatched it away.
