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TIME: Almanac 1990
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1990 Time Magazine Compact Almanac, The (1991)(Time).iso
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031389
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1990-09-22
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NATION, Page 22The Presidency"Dead Soldiers" Along the PotomacBy Hugh Sidey
Chasing women kind of comes with the territory in the
male-chauvinist Senate, like the springy black leather couches.
Making millions from inside contacts after Government service is
not all that grave a sin either, else an army of former lawmakers
now behind the polished doors of august law firms would be in
irons. It was the booze that got John Tower in real trouble.
Heavy drinkers have been a continuing specter in American
public life. Luckily, there are no episodes in which the Republic's
fate was threatened by drunkenness. Our standards have gone up,
slowly the first 180 years, dramatically the past 20. Off the job
or on, a political boozer is apt to be a loser. That's not to say
teetotaling assures success.
Washington was built on a river of "ardent spirits," a nice
term used long ago for the hard stuff. Laborers on public buildings
got larger whiskey rations the higher up they worked, a dubious
formula. But the buildings did get finished. Dolley Madison brought
this "saloon culture" into the White House, getting the political
leaders out of the bars and into more graceful surroundings. The
drinks came on silver trays. James Madison cut some good deals.
Washington was and remains the nation's leading consumer of
booze, imbibing at last count 4.78 gal. of spirits and 6.41 gal.
of wine per person a year. Nevada runs a distant second.
Congressman Wilbur Mills, who starred with stripper Fanne Fox
at the Tidal Basin in 1974, is a recent prodigal of drink. Many
others preceded him. John Quincy Adams complained mightily about
House Speaker Henry Clay's roaring drunks abroad in 1814, when they
were there for the Treaty of Ghent, ending the War of 1812.
Old-timers remember that Estes Kefauver's Senate hideaway was
littered with "dead soldiers." Harry Truman had just arrived for
a bourbon or two at the "Board of Education," Speaker Sam Rayburn's
daily happy hour, when he was summoned to power. Anyone who
believes a fellow did not get tiddly now and then in Mr. Sam's
quaint quarters lives in fantasy.
Lyndon Johnson, as Senate majority leader and early on as
President, could polish off a dozen or so Scotch-and-sodas in an
afternoon and evening. He claimed they were half strength. He never
lost control, just looked stunned. He quit cold turkey in the White
House, switching to Fresca and root beer. For whatever reason, his
presidency went downhill thereafter. White House abstinence was
tried by Rutherford Hayes, Calvin Coolidge and Jimmy Carter.
Results were dismal.
Franklin Roosevelt's martinis lifted the Oval Office many an
evening. John Kennedy once showed up for work with a bandage on
his head, claiming he cut it on a table while reaching for a
dropped book. Research suggests that after ample champagne at a
party, the President led a conga line into a wall fixture. The
original photograph of Richard Nixon in the White House the night
before he resigned caught two drained martini glasses at his elbow.
The photo released to the public had the glasses airbrushed to
remove the olives.
Truman's aide Clark Clifford remembers that during a poker game
with Winston Churchill, the old lion praised the U.S. but lamented
one dreadful American lapse: "You people quit drinking after
dinner." These days, maybe even sooner.