by Sheila Tate
Nancy told me early in our working relationship that she didn’t want to be surprised by something I’d said to the media, and that she would always be available to me if I needed her reaction to or guidance about a question from the press. Sometimes I tested the limits. There were days when she got as many as eight or ten calls from me. She always gave me the time I needed. We were a good team. She made me look good. And I did my best to provide equal service.
Nancy never gossiped with staff. We had a professional relationship with her. We met together monthly—the chief of staff, social secretary, projects director, and press secretary—in her upstairs office overlooking Pennsylvania Avenue, to focus on the details of her next thirty- to sixty-day schedule and to finalize our plans. Those meetings often lasted several hours. She rarely made any adjustments to our recommended calendar. Which may be why we were so surprised years later to learn about her dependence on astrology to guide the development of the president’s schedule. She definitely was not relying on astrology to plan her own schedule.
In planning Nancy’s schedule, we quickly came to understand she always wanted to know if others were speaking at the same event. If so, she wanted staff coordination with the staff of other speakers to make sure everyone’s remarks were relevant and avoided duplication.
And, of course, she was equally desirous of knowing the weather forecast for any trip. She was always worried about the weather and being cold. A recurring theme!
Muffie Brandon, her social secretary, described Nancy as very thorough and sometimes a bit demanding but always with her concern focused on her husband’s success and well-being. “She held herself to very high standards and worked ceaselessly to achieve her goals. She expected nothing less from those of us who worked for her.”
Ann Wrobleski says she always thinks of Nancy as the “reluctant” boss or maybe “unlikely” boss.
Although she had a public life before the White House as a movie actress and as First Lady of California, she’d never had a staff. While she borrowed people like Nancy Reynolds and Carol McCain to help her on the campaign trail or for important events, for the most part, her team was herself and her housekeeper.
All that changed in Washington. Nancy Reynolds ran the First Lady’s office during the transition and did much of the hiring. But the day after the inaugural Nancy found herself with a chief of staff, social secretary, press secretary, project director, scheduler, personal assistant, and their attendant deputies and assistants. Suddenly she had a big team and we all wanted her time, attention, and, most importantly, direction.
We all had questions that needed answers so that we could get on with the work we were hired to do.
Ann Wrobleski had worked on Capitol Hill for two senators and a congressman and been a spokesman for two statewide candidates in Florida. “Like everyone else on her staff, I was used to both taking and giving instructions. Nancy seemed more comfortable making suggestions rather than giving directions.
“That said, I found Nancy to be more thoughtful than my previous bosses and also more likely to ask the next question. So, for example, ‘Can I sit with the children?’ was followed by ‘Where will their parents sit?’ Most political figures are happy with an answer to the first question as they usually are all about them.
“Nancy was also always well prepared. She did her homework, practiced her remarks, and was mindful of the purpose of every event.”
Ann remembered one anecdote in particular:
The first head of government to visit the Reagans was Prime Minister Edward Seaga of Jamaica. He and his wife came for a state lunch on January 28 and Nancy and the president were outside the Diplomatic Entrance to welcome them.
Nancy warmly greeted the prime minister and then turned to extend the same greeting to the woman she assumed was his wife. Instead, the woman was a U.S. Foreign Service officer who accompanied the Jamaican guests. The woman quickly introduced Nancy to the real Mrs. Seaga, correcting her diplomatic error as graciously as she could.
Ann says Nancy was determined to never make that mistake again and from that day forward she received her own briefing materials from the National Security Council and the State Department, which she studied carefully.
Ann and I worked as a team, creating and organizing events for Nancy that had the substance Ann insisted upon and the news value I demanded. To this day, we remain close friends. One of her twin boys (now young men working on Capitol Hill) is my godson. And we attended her daughter’s beautiful wedding several years ago in the North Carolina mountains.
3
The New First Lady
Nancy Davis Reagan came to Washington with her husband, the former California governor. She had always been devoted to Ronald Reagan; he came first. He always talked about how wonderful it was to come home to Nancy at the end of each day. She likewise came first as far as he was concerned. When they married, his friends were hers and she brought more friends into the fold as the years went by. The Bloomingdales, the Annenbergs, the Wicks, and many more. Life was good and uncomplicated. All the Californians came with them to Washington to celebrate the inauguration of their great friend. New York friends joined them.
And the press had a field day, contrasting the West Coast invaders and their ostentatious lifestyle with the current financial malaise of the country.
Nancy was quoted (by some anonymous source) as wishing the Carters would move out of the White House early, presumably so she could begin to settle in. So, as you can imagine, Nancy was not viewed sympathetically as she came to live in Washington.
Nancy’s initial focus was on creating a comfortable environment for her husband and herself as she had always done in their previous homes.
When the Reagans moved into the White House in 1981, she recognized the visible wear and tear on that wonderful historic home and office; there were cracks in the plaster, mold, chipped paint, and worn floors and carpets. She wanted to completely restore it, not just to make it comfortable for them but to make it a source of pride for America. She considered the White House to be the people’s house and she wanted to make it shine.
But there is a quandary that every first family faces when they arrive: the amount Congress allots to first families for improvements when they first take up residence in the White House is relatively small. The one-time-only allowance has fluctuated over the years, increasing to $50,000 in 1925; it was raised to $100,000 in 1999. As a result, most families before the Reagans made modest improvements with their $50,000 stipends and the building’s basic maintenance got deferred. Over the years that led to erosion in plumbing, outdated electrical systems, and mold. The huge antique doors on the State Floor, where most official events were held, had not been refinished since the Truman family walked the halls in the late 1940s.
Nancy decided to face the need for major restoration head-on. The Reagans turned back the federal stipend and she raised close to one million dollars in private contributions to refurbish the White House.
Twenty years earlier Jackie Kennedy had set up a volunteer committee of antique enthusiasts to help her restore the White House. She also created the White House Historical Association in order to accept private donations. The smartest thing she did, to my mind, was involve Life magazine early, using it as a forum to explain and preview her plans, building popular support in advance. She was wise beyond her years.
Nancy felt that she needed to approach her restoration differently, both because the media was not sympathetic to her and because we were in the midst of a painful economic recession. She did not want to preview her plans; she wanted to showcase them when the work was complete.
Nancy brought in experts to assess the electrical and plumbing needs hidden behind the plaster walls as well as the cosmetic aspects of both the residence and the State Floor.
Friends of the Reagans in Oklahoma started raising private funds and they raised so much so fast f
rom Oklahomans that the fund-raising effort was stopped almost before it began. That effort was criticized because most of the money came from oil and gas interests, the first and most logical prospects from which to raise funds in oil-rich Oklahoma.
And as all modern First Ladies have done, Nancy brought in her favorite decorator, Ted Graber, to walk through the White House furniture warehouses with her, selecting antique furnishings to complement the Reagans’ personal furniture from California.
The result, completed within the first year, was a beautifully restored and furnished residence that would make future presidential families comfortable for years to come. The work on the State Floor would provide future presidents a dignified venue to entertain world leaders, and all without cost to the taxpayers. The actual restoration work in the private quarters was essentially complete before I was able to view it; the residence was off-limits to staff while it was under restoration. When I did get to see the restoration, I have to admit I was enchanted. It was a beautiful, comfortable home with many of the Reagans’ personal effects adding to its hominess. Years later, after George and Barbara Bush were living there, Mrs. Bush told me that every day she was there she thanked Nancy Reagan for the work she had done.
On top of the restoration and redecorating, Nancy had ordered a new set of White House china. She called me to come to the State Dining Room one morning in the early summer. She had just approved a sample place setting of the new Reagan (red) china and wanted me to see it firsthand. I asked for permission to have the White House photographer photograph the setting for use when we released it. My first instinct was that we needed to release the information as soon as possible because it surely would leak. The Lenox china factory was gearing up to produce the china, exposing this information to any number of artisans involved in the process. Mike Deaver overruled me and to this day I think that was a mistake. He wanted us to keep it under wraps until the Christmas holidays when the press would be more likely to write balanced stories. I was next to certain the story would not hold. Sorry to say, I was right.
Within weeks, Maureen Santini of the Associated Press had the story, and I had to scramble. Thank goodness Nancy had given me the chance to develop press materials or it would have been worse.
The cost was $209,000 for a service for 250 guests, entirely paid for by a private foundation. But we got no credit for that. The press was in what we called a “feeding frenzy” and no effort to communicate a more fulsome background story could break through the cacophony. Even my attempt to focus on facts like this—Eleanor Roosevelt ordered a new china service during the Depression and it was paid for by the Department of the Interior!—were paid any mind. Sadly, the china story had leaked to the Associated Press on the same day that ketchup was certified as a vegetable in the school lunch program by the Department of Agriculture. No reporter could pass up a “spicy” comparison like that.
When the work on the White House was complete, Nancy and I spent considerable time weighing the options for press coverage. Architectural Digest won first reporting rights. To us, it was a publication worthy of treating the Reagan restoration with the importance it deserved. Of course, that inflamed the insular political press corps in Washington where the prevailing view was that anything occurring at the White House had to be reported first by White House reporters.
Taken together in the first year of her tenure as First Lady, all this—new china, restoration work—created an image of Nancy as a brittle, uncaring, acquisitive socialite; that wasn’t accurate but it was our fault.
Nancy took the media criticism because she knew she had helped preserve the White House for another fifty years. As her press secretary, I wondered if the press frenzy on these issues would ever diminish.
And then President Reagan held a routine press conference several weeks after the china frenzy began. When asked about the new china, he took this issue head-on. He said something to the effect that all this fuss over “dishes” for the White House was silly; it made the press look foolish. That shaming was all it took to make the press corps move on to other stories. God love Ronald Reagan, riding to Nancy’s rescue.
The Reagans were determined to showcase the White House by hosting state dinners for heads of state from around the world. In their first term, they held thirty-two official state dinners as well as restored to the official calendar the formal Diplomatic Reception, previously an annual event that was very important to the ambassadors from every country. Those new “dishes” got quite a workout.
The first state dinner was on February 26, 1981, given in honor of Margaret Thatcher.
I recently listened to White House social secretary Muffie Brandon Cabot’s oral history at the Reagan Library where she explained the incredible detail that goes into planning each state dinner and how important every detail was to Nancy. For instance, Muffie found out that Mrs. Thatcher loved anemones, so they were the colorful centerpiece on every table. And every table at the dinner was covered in green silk tablecloths because green was Mrs. Thatcher’s favorite color. Maggie was touched.
I vividly remember having to ask the president, after the dinner but before the entertainment started, to let me borrow his index card on which he had written his toast. Several reporters were at odds with something they thought he said in the toast and needed to verify it. As he pulled it from his pocket he said, “Okay, Sheila, but be sure to return it to me because I have to turn it in to the folks who keep files on these things.” His concern for the “folks” who were counting on him to return his index card for the archives was not unusual. That was the way he conducted himself. I reviewed the toast for the reporters who had not heard it correctly and immediately returned the index card to the president.
My routine for these state dinners never changed. I only had a few long gowns so I alternated wearing them. Nobody noticed my attire anyway. I always called Nancy the day of the event to get the details of her gown for the press. The social office always furnished my press office with the guest list and the menu, again for me to background the press. The dinners were held in the State Dining Room with fifteen tables of eight, allowing room for the waiters to move about easily. Often the “Strolling Strings,” a graceful line of uniformed army violinists, walked through the room at one point to add to the glamor of the evening. They were magical. After dinner, guests were invited to have coffee in the color rooms, the Green, Blue, and Red Rooms between the State Dining Room and the East Room.
During coffee, I brought the social writers—usually four or five reporters—into the Grand Foyer and they were allowed to mingle with the guests for a few minutes before everyone was escorted into the East Room for the entertainment. I kept an “eagle eye” on each of those reporters and made sure I could hear what they were asking our guests. As good reporters they were always looking for a way to corner the president to ask a few questions about current events. My job was to minimize the time they had him cornered. Again, I listened and helped ensure we made no news during the evening by steering the conversation as best I could. The press was then escorted to a roped-off section reserved for television cameras, photographers, and writers. The entertainment following Mrs. Thatcher’s dinner featured the vocalist George Benson and the Dance Theatre of Harlem. I remember cringing every time one of the dancers leapt into the air onstage and only missed the chandelier by inches.
Fittingly, the very last Reagan state dinner on November 18, 1988, was also in honor of Margaret Thatcher with whom Ronald Reagan had such a strong friendship, the fifty-third dinner of his presidency.
December was the only month we never held a state dinner. When you learn about the frenzy that is Christmas at the White House, you will understand why.
Muffie remembers when the fabulous Ella Fitzgerald came to perform at one of the early state dinners that first year. According to Muffie, “She was shaking with nervousness and I led her downstairs to the quiet and seclusion of a s
mall reception room where she wanted to ‘warm up’ for her performance after dinner.” During the dinner in the State Dining Room the president got Muffie’s attention and asked her, “What is that singing going on?” Turns out the new air-conditioning vents were wide open and the president and his guests, in the glow of the lovingly refurbished State Floor, got to enjoy a preview of Ella’s fabulous vocalizing.
I recall one evening when Muffie herself was nervous. It was at a state dinner later in 1981 honoring the prime minister of Israel, Menachem Begin, where we employed a kosher chef stationed in a van outside the back door of the kitchen. The meals were coming out of the van much too slowly so Muffie stood by the dumbwaiter that carried those meals to the State Floor, urging on the rabbi who was holding up each meal in order to bless it. Her exact words accompanied by appropriate arm gestures: “Move it, move it!”
Muffie also has vivid memories of a famous male vocalist at another state dinner that first year. He shall remain nameless. He was described politely by Muffie as “in his cups.” Apparently he decided to stroll down the center aisle as he warbled (and wobbled) away. He came upon Barbara Bush and he tried to sit in her lap. Barbara stood up just in time to keep him standing.
* * *
Just when I thought we had passed all the initial controversies, a new issue revealed itself.
When news broke that Nancy had been wearing gowns “loaned” to her by famous designers, Fred Fielding, White House legal counsel, became my new best friend. What was common practice in Hollywood was a miniscandal in Washington. Eventually I announced that those gowns, still in Nancy’s possession, were being donated to museums. That put an end to the story. But it was one more damaging incident that created a great deal of angst in the East Wing.
* * *