Rendezvous with Destiny: Ronald Reagan and the Campaign that Changed America

by Shirley, Craig

  Still, there was an utter and complete chasm between the paper's coverage of the debate and the reporting on its little focus group.

  Even more telling was the Associated Press poll taken immediately after the debate. The survey showed that fully 46 percent of the respondents thought Reagan had done a better job while only 34 percent said Carter had performed better.19

  The poll was conducted too late in the evening for the East Coast papers to report on it. When mainstream media figures did learn of the late-night survey, they generally dismissed it, claiming that the poll had been tilted toward “Reagan Country” in the West.

  Conservative columnist R. Emmett Tyrrell saw it differently, saying that it was the distinction between the “Wise and the Wisenheimers.”20 Tyrrell had a point. There was a huge disconnect between the insulated elites and the rest of the country. The difference was as stark as that between a delightfully amusing little Chardonnay and a frosty bottle of Carling Black Label beer. A union man with the roofers said after the debate, “If Reagan was a Democrat, he'd been in the White House in January.”21 For millions of Democrats, Reagan spoke their language, even if he didn't mangle his verb usage.

  One of the few Beautiful People who did understand what had transpired in Cleveland was Sam Donaldson of ABC News. After leaving the hall, he spotted Jody Powell and Hamilton Jordan backslapping each other and congratulating themselves on Carter's “win.” Donaldson knew otherwise and yelled out, “Your man blew it!”22

  Ted Kennedy was another exception among the elites. He watched the debate with a group of high-powered Democrats at the Century Plaza Hotel in Los Angeles. At the conclusion, remembered Bob Shrum, “they're all cheering and they're saying Carter won.” When Shrum got into the limousine with Kennedy to head to the airport, Kennedy told Shrum, “He just got killed.”23 Kennedy wasn't referring to Reagan.

  Warren Mitofsky, the much-esteemed head of survey research for CBS, said on the night of the debate that instant public commentary after such debates meant little. What was more meaningful, he argued, was what people thought several days after, when they had time to digest things, talk to friends and family, and formulate an opinion.24

  Dick Wirthlin had been running daily tracking polls for weeks now. Wirthlin's overnight tracking after the debate had Carter blip up by three points in a head-to-head matchup. But a few days after the debate, the Republican pollster's internal numbers on the “who won the debate?” heavily favored Reagan: 41 percent thought the Republican had won, while only 26 percent thought Carter had, with the balance saying either “undecided” or “neither.”25

  Wirthlin's internal numbers were supported by an ABC call-in poll done the night of the debate. Although mired in controversy (as we'll see later), the callers overwhelmingly supported Reagan by a 67 to 33 percent margin.

  Two days after the showdown, CBS News released a nationwide poll that only confirmed what Middle America already knew: Ronald Reagan had won the debate—by a margin of 44 percent to 36 percent, Americans thought Reagan had outperformed the president.26

  NEW ENDORSEMENTS ROLLED IN for Reagan. For the first time in its history, the National Rifle Association fired a twenty-one-gun salute and warmly endorsed the Gipper. In addition, TV Guide, with a circulation of 18.9 million, endorsed Reagan—the first endorsement ever by the popular magazine. The publisher was Walter Annenberg, who had once been Richard Nixon's ambassador to the Court of St. James.27

  The Washington Post issued its judgment the Friday before the election, coming in for Carter, but only reluctantly. The long piece actually had more praise for Reagan than Carter. The Post conveyed its lack of enthusiasm when it sourly noted, “A just God will hear the prayers of all those who wish this campaign soon to be over.”28

  The Post was like many of the big-city newspapers in endorsing Carter over Reagan. It was not representative of newspapers overall, however. In fact, Editor and Publisher magazine found that 443 daily newspapers with a combined circulation of 17.6 million had endorsed the Gipper, while the president had received the support of 126 editorial pages with only 7.8 million readers.29 When the New York Post endorsed Reagan, Carter petulantly called the publisher, Rupert Murdoch, to chew him out. He complained that “the Australian-born Murdoch is not even a U.S. citizen.”30

  THE DAY AFTER THE debate Carter went to Pittsburgh to begin the frenetic last days of campaigning. One newspaper called this closing segment of the campaign a “six-day political death march.”31 After spending so many months employing the Rose Garden strategy, Carter was now campaigning all-out. He was covering as much ground as possible, putting in long days until Americans voted on Tuesday, November 4. Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey, Florida, Mississippi, Missouri, Texas, Tennessee, and California were just some of the pivotal states he would hit in the scant few days remaining.

  The last-minute swing through Reagan's California was a shot across the Republican's bow, but Reaganites dismissed the president's incursion to reporters. Dick Richards, Reagan's political director for the West, considered Carter's planned trip to California no less than a fool's errand.32 But the Reagan campaign sweated enough to buy an additional $25,000 worth of TV time in Los Angeles to run the weekend before the election.33

  The mood on Carter's plane was jovial. The president voiced confidence on the trail. In Missouri, he reminded the audience that JFK had once said that in twenty years Republicans would praise Harry Truman, then added, “I predict that twenty years from now Republican candidates might even be saying nice things about Jimmy Carter's second term.”34 After being met by tens of thousands of union members in New York City's Garment District, Carter wrote in his diary, “A lot of electricity. Excitement.” Clearly, he thought he was going to win.35

  There were, however, reasons for apprehension. The fact that he had to devote so much time to southern states was itself a problem. Carter had taken all of the South in 1976, and now his administration was serving up millions in federal pork to the region. It was a worrisome that Florida, Mississippi, Texas, and Tennessee weren't safely in his column.

  The “big four” industrial states bordering the Great Lakes—Ohio, Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Illinois, for a total of ninety-nine electoral votes—were all too close to call.36 But Don Totten, Reagan's Midwest political director, knew the region like his own mother's face and was confident about his on-the-ground squad.37 Meanwhile, Carter himself acknowledged that he was trailing in New Jersey.

  A new national survey said that 48 percent of adult blacks either were not registered to vote or were not planning on voting.38 This was further bad news for Carter, who needed the black vote badly. In several states, including Ohio and Mississippi, black voters had provided the critical margin for him four years earlier.

  An embarrassing story came out that Carter's campaign was running ads in urban areas falsely charging John Anderson with having opposed the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 when in fact he had voted for both. Trying to keep blacks from switching to Anderson, the Carter campaign ho-humly took credit for the ads without apologizing for the lie.39

  Adding to Carter's worries were continued rumors about the Iranian hostages. The latest rumor the administration had to fight off held that the president was about to fly to a military base in Wiesbaden to greet the released hostages. Evans and Novak breathlessly reported that a deal had been worked out two weeks before the election, “sealed in a handshake” between White House counsel Lloyd Cutler and Iranian negotiators. Cutler hotly denied the column.40

  There was no such deal. In fact, as Walter Mondale remembered years later, “Khomeini was playing us like a cat and a mouse … dangling hope and then crushing it.”41

  ALTHOUGH MULTIPLE INDICATORS SHOWED that at least a plurality of Americans thought Reagan had bested Carter during the debate, a minor controversy arose relating to a poll run by ABC's popular news program Nightline.42 In the days before the debate ABC had heavily promoted a survey in which people could phone in
to vote on who they thought won the showdown. Once the debate ended, ABC revealed two phone numbers that viewers could call: one to register a vote for Reagan and another to vote for Carter. Each call cost fifty cents.43

  AT&T was inundated with phone calls—an astonishing 725,000 in about an hour and a half, from just before the end of the debate at 11 P.M. eastern time until 12:30 A.M. The results of the phone-in poll were announced on Nightline: 483,815 votes for Reagan and 243,563 for Carter—a smashing 67 percent to 33 percent victory for the Republican.44

  The survey provided great fodder for Nightline, as millions watched, anxious to learn the final results. Host Ted Koppel periodically announced that Reagan was maintaining his 2–1 edge in the voting, and he and guest commentator George Will discussed the meaning of the results. The next day the results were widely reported in newspapers and on radio; the Washington Star actually put the results on the front page.45

  There was only one problem: the so-called poll was utterly worthless. In pollster-talk, it was representative only of the universe of those who participated; in other words, it did not represent the entire electorate. Plus, it did not discount multiple calls. Technical difficulties were reported as well. Cities that had crowded phone exchanges had more trouble with jammed lines than did rural areas, and the system would not accept calls from hotels or pay phones.46 In Atlanta, Carter supporters were appalled to find that when their calls did go through, a tape-recorded message said that they had just voted for Reagan.

  Nor did the ABC survey account for the fact that Republicans could call the Carter phone-in line and stay on the line, preventing Carter's supporters from legitimately casting a ballot for the Democrat. Or vice versa. As it happened, some twelve thousand Carter backers complained that they had tried repeatedly to call in and vote for their man but could not do so because the lines were jammed.47

  A Carter aide bitterly objected that the phone-in poll could allow someone to “stack the deck.”48 He was right. Bill Timmons, Reagan's national political director, revealed years later that the Reagan campaign had been tipped off to the Reagan call-in phone number by a source at ABC several days before the debate. The campaign distributed the number among grassroots Republicans, who in turn passed it along to family, friends, and neighbors, all urged to call in and vote for the Gipper.49

  Other media outlets, including the New York Times, viciously attacked the poll, even as they were declaring Carter the winner of the debate. “On content and meaning, Mr. Carter won,” the Times editorialized.50 The president of ABC News, Roone Arledge, was so incensed he wrote a letter ripping into the paper.51 Faced with the uproar, Ted Koppel went so far as to host a half-hour show to defend the poll.

  Despite—or perhaps because of—the controversy, ABC was pleased with the effects of the poll. Interest in the results had boosted the network's ratings during the debate, and in such big markets as New York and Chicago, ABC easily bested NBC and CBS.52

  What was not discussed on Nightline, and what was not known to viewers at the time, was that George Will, who warmly praised Reagan's performance in his role as a guest commentator for ABC, had participated in Reagan's debate preparation. Will's lack of disclosure was the second controversy that grew out of Nightline's coverage of the Carter-Reagan debate. This kerfuffle, however, would not emerge for another few years; Will's small role in the debate prep became known in the summer of 1983, as Congress was investigating the matter of the pilfered Carter briefing books. The revelation sparked a series of denunciations from other members of the media.53 But the “controversy” was silly, frankly. Will was a well-known conservative who in his political commentary made his support for Reagan abundantly clear. In any case, columnists had play-acted being consultants for years, dispensing advice in print and over cocktails.

  TWO DAYS AFTER THE debate, the federal deficit for the year was announced at a staggering $59 billion—the second biggest on record (after the 1976 deficit of $66.4 billion). Normally, the Treasury Department would have made such an announcement the previous Friday. When pressed as to why the delay had occurred, a Treasury official shrugged his shoulders and said, “I can't think of a single reason.”54 But had the announcement been made on the usual schedule, it surely would have pushed the economy to the forefront of the debate agenda—and would have put President Carter on the defensive. Not surprisingly, tongues were wagging about the delay of the announcement. Though suppression of such government information could bring criminal charges, no formal accusations were leveled.

  Then, of course, there was the ongoing saga of the Billy Carter investigation. Had the White House been obstructing the Justice Department's inquiry? The Reagan campaign weighed in. Jim Baker issued a statement saying that a subpoena might be necessary to force President Carter to cooperate, while Reagan told a local Pittsburgh television station that the president “does seem to be dragging his feet.”55

  It didn't help Carter that the Abscam scandal continued to cast a pall over his party. All but one of the Abscam targets were Democrats, and the story was still alive. In fact, one Democrat caught taking a bribe from FBI agents, Senator Harrison Williams of New Jersey, was indicted day just six days before the election.56 Williams wasn't up for reelection, but others implicated, including Congressman John Jenrette of North Carolina, were fighting for their political lives.57

  So was Jimmy Carter.

  REAGAN'S SCHEDULE WAS JUST as hectic as Carter's, but the Gipper was having a good time. He took wing to Texas after the debate for an appearance with his old friend Roy Rogers. Rogers was a good sport and sang a few lines from “Happy Trails” at the behest of the traveling press corps. Reagan pointed out how Carter liked to mention other Democratic presidents, then added, “You know there's one Democrat president he doesn't talk about and that's Jimmy Carter.” In Fort Worth, when Reagan asked rhetorically whether someone else had been in charge at the White House the way Carter was talking, the audience spontaneously yelled out, “Amy!” Reagan lost it. Laughing, he replied, “Maybe.”58

  He had fun telling crowds in the final days that Carter reminded him “of someone who can name the fifty parts of an automobile—he just can't drive it or fix it.”59 Mrs. Reagan was also having fun, telling women to “let the dust accumulate” at home and get out and campaign for “Ronnie.”60

  Reagan went to Dallas and as he walked onto the stage, the band struck up “Happy Days Are Here Again,” which had been the Democratic Party's unofficial official song since 1932. It was the final insult of the campaign. Check that. It was the next to last. The last was when someone in the crowd yelled out, “Give 'em hell, Ronnie!” The phrase had oft been associated with Harry Truman's upset campaign of 1948.61

  Joining Reagan on stage were Dallas Cowboys quarterback Roger Staubach and head coach Tom Landry. The men, as far as Texans were concerned, could have been the thirteenth and fourteenth disciples. The Cowboys cheerleaders were on hand too. A giant American flag adorned the background and red, white, and blue streamers and balloons dropped. A sign among the boisterous audience read, “Amy for Secretary of Defense.”62

  It was not all festivity. On a local Dallas television show, Reagan betrayed how angry he was about the personal attacks by Carter: “Criticizing each other belongs in a campaign … but I think Carter has lowered himself to a personal type of attack against me. And it's an attack based on falsehoods and distortions.” He elaborated, “He doesn't know me enough to charge me with being a racist. He doesn't know me enough to suggest that I am trigger-happy and would cause a war and so forth, such things as saying if I were President I would separate Christians from Jews, blacks from whites and so forth. This is a personal type of campaign that's unworthy of the office he holds. I can hardly have a warm feeling in my heart for someone who's been attacking me on a personal basis for many months now in the campaign.”63

  Like Carter, Reagan had to deal with controversy in the final hours. A minicrisis came up when allegations arose in the Wall Street Journal about the bus
iness dealings of his national security adviser, Richard Allen. Some of the charges went back to Allen's days in the Nixon administration, including a suggestion that Allen had used inside information to assist some clients, including the shady Robert Vesco.64 Reagan said Meese would look into the allegations. Allen took a leave of absence from the campaign until the matter was cleared up, but both Meese and Nofziger publicly stood by their old friend.65

  As newspaper stories appeared about Allen's problems, reports began popping up about a possible role for Henry Kissinger in a Reagan administration. The two sets of stories closely tracked with one another, but only a cynic would suggest that enemies of Allen had coordinated the whole thing. It was widely known that Kissinger and Allen despised each other and had for years. The two badmouthed each other constantly. Observing the mortal enemies in the same room, a campaign staffer said, “It was like a scene from a Fellini movie.”66 Conservatives gagged on the idea of Kissinger being let even in the back door of a Reagan administration instead of their friend Allen.

  Reagan made one more pass at New Jersey and picked up the endorsement of the Democratic mayor of Lodi, a heavily blue-collar town in Bergen County. He stopped by Barrett's, a local gin mill popular with Democrats. Reagan, who almost never swore in public, slipped and said of Carter, “I'll be damned if we'll let him get reelected!”67 He told the mostly Democratic crowd, “I know what it's like to pull the Republican lever for the first time, because I used to be a Democrat myself, and I can tell you it only hurts for a minute and then it feels just great.”68