Power  /  Comparison

Two and a Half Hours Alone with Nixon, the Anti-Trump

When Nixon practiced law, he declined divorce cases because he disliked frank sexual talk from women. Trump asked Playboy to run a “Girls of Trump” feature.

After Nixon lauded the Times, I thought of something to laud him for:

“Congratulations on opening China. They’ve invited me on a cultural tour.”

“I’m going to China next week.”

“Then why don’t I go with you!”

Nixon dropped his head. For an awkward 30 seconds, he stared at the floor. My humor had fallen flat. Finally, he looked up.

“You see, uh, uh …, Pat’s not going.”

High-school teacher Pat was a year older than Nixon. Each Trump wife has been a model younger than him—Ivana by three years, Marla by 18, Melania by 24. Wife number four may well be wearing pigtails when she gets the nod.

When Pat wouldn’t date him, Nixon drove her to dates and waited in the car to drive her home. And when urged to run for office, introspective Nixon, who had no name, connections, or fortune, said, “I’m somebody who is nothing.”

“I have the best words,” says the short-fingered vulgarian. “I alone can fix it.”

Nixon now reached for his 1,120-page memoir and inscribed its flyleaf. Then he penned a letter on personal stationary, tucked it between the book’s pages, and gave me the book. (See photo.) A camera flashed. An agent had re-appeared to record the moment. I glanced at my watch: 11:30. I’d been alone with Nixon for two and a half hours.

“I’m glad you came,” Nixon said, as he accompanied me to the door.

While I walked to the subway, the Nixon I’d just experienced ricocheted with the Nixon I’d long despised. And I remembered the conclusion of Op-Ed artist Brad Holland, whom critics liken to Goya. As Watergate dragged on, Holland’s Nixon drawings grew increasingly sympathetic.

“I saw in Nixon flaws I fear in myself,” Holland said, “and I came to feel an odd admiration for the man—as one of those perversely brave individuals who, in spite of their need to be admired, is willing to go through life without being understood.”

I didn’t find godliness in Nixon. But to picture him now, I’d need a slew of colors, a bunch of brushes, and no deadline.

And my détente picture? It’s preserved in the Richard Nixon Presidential Library and Museum. The Trump Presidential Library? Ground has yet to be broken.