Bill Clinton – The Intelligent Collector Magazine

Descent into vitriol began long before our lifetimes

A quarter-plate daguerreotype of President John Quincy Adams, taken at the Washington, D.C., studio of John Plumbe in 1846, sold for $31,250 at a December 2017 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

“The whole country is in a state of agitation upon the approaching presidential election such as was never before witnessed. … Not a week has passed within the last few months without a convocation of thousands of people to hear inflammatory harangues. Here is a revolution in the habits and manners of the people. Where will it end? These are party movements, and must in the natural progress of things become antagonistic … their manifest tendency is to civil war.”

If you guess this was 1964 when LBJ was set to defeat Barry Goldwater, you would be wrong. Or perhaps 1992 when Bill Clinton and Ross Perot were trying to unseat President George H.W. Bush? Sorry. You’re not even in the right century! We’re in a much earlier time, a time without 24/7 cable news and its insatiable appetite for divisive issues coupled with scores of political partisans eager to share their opinions. A time when you could not discern political bias by simply knowing the TV channel.

The year was 1840 when the Whigs were trying to oust President Martin Van Buren from the White House. It was a boisterous time and the speaker was ex-President John Quincy Adams (1767-1848). These words come from a concerned man, but then again, political speeches were more impassioned than we’ve ever heard in our lifetimes.

Eight years later, Congressman JQA, representing Massachusetts, rose in the House of Representatives to speak, but suddenly collapsed on his desk. He died two days later from the effects of a cerebral hemorrhage in the Speaker’s chambers. The public mourning that followed exceeded, by far, anything previously seen in America. Forgotten was his failed one-term presidency, routinely cold demeanor, cantankerous personality, and even the full extent of his remarkable public life.

For two days, the remains of our sixth president (and son of the second president) reposed in-state while an unprecedented line of thousands filed through the Capitol to view the bier. On Saturday, Feb. 25, funeral services began in the House. After all the speeches, and after a choir had sung, the body was escorted by a parade of public officials, military units and private citizens to the Congressional Cemetery. After the coffin remained in a temporary vault for several days, 30 members of Congress, one from each state, were ready to accompany it on the 500-mile railway journey to Boston. The train, with a black-draped special car, traveled for five days through a cloud of universal grief. The caravan stopped often to permit local ceremonies and citizens to stand in silent tribute.

Boston greeted his remains by exhibiting the insignia of mourning virtually everywhere. On March 12, every prominent politician in Massachusetts vied to join in escorting the casket to Quincy’s First Parish Church, where Pastor William Lunt delivered a moving sermon that ended with “Be thou faithful until death, and I will give thee a crown of life.” Later, Harvard President Edward Everett (of Gettysburg fame) eulogized JQA for two hours in the presence of the Massachusetts legislature, which had gathered in Faneuil Hall.

Only Abraham Lincoln’s death evoked a greater outpouring of national sorrow in the entire 19th century in America.

Eventually, JQA’s coffin was installed in a monumental enclosure with his mother Abigail to his right and his wife Louisa to his left. With the inclusion of his father, John Adams, it has become a national shrine; unique in America’s history since it marks the graves of two presidents of the United States and two First Ladies.

And what of the man who had been secretary of state and vice president for Andrew Jackson and was now trying to win another term as president? Martin Van Buren (1782-1862), the “Wizard of Kinderhook,” was surprisingly short at 5-6, and had been elected in 1836 when Jackson decided against a third term and threw his support to Van Buren.

The opposing Whigs were too divided to hold a national convention in 1836 since they couldn’t agree on a single candidate. Instead, they adopted a clever plan to support regional favorite sons with the hope they could deny Van Buren an electoral victory, force the election into the House of Representatives (as in 1824) and then unite behind a single Whig candidate to secede Jackson. The anti-Van Buren press was vitriolic and the New York American called him “illiterate, sycophant and politically corrupt.”

Van Buren remained implacable and on election day racked up 764,195 votes (50.9 percent) and his three Whig opponents were left to carve up the remainder. New York power broker and publisher Thurlow Weed summed it up succinctly: “We are to be cursed with Van Buren for president.”

However, on May 10, 1837 – only two months after the new president took office – prominent banks in New York started refusing to convert paper money into gold or silver. Other financial institutions, also running low on hard currency, followed suit. The financial crisis became the Panic of 1837. This was followed by a five-year depression that forced bank closures, economic malaise and record unemployment. Now flash forward to 1840, when Van Buren easily won re-nomination at the Democratic National Convention despite the economic woes. But the government was also mired down with major divisive issues: slavery, westward expansion, tension with Great Britain. Van Buren had not recognized what James Carville would memorialize 150 years later: “It’s the economy stupid!”

Other financial panics would continue to plague the country periodically until 1913, when President Woodrow Wilson signed the Federal Reserve Act. These wizards can create money out of thin air by using an electronic switch that coverts ions into gizmos that people will buy with money that is guaranteed by the federal government.

What’s in your wallet?

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is president and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as chair and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

To borrow a phrase, Chief Justice Roberts looked like he came directly from central casting

A photograph of Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. and Associate Justice John Paul Stevens, taken following Roberts’ oath-taking and signed by both on the mat, went to auction in May 2017.

By Jim O’Neal

At noon on Sept. 12, 2005, I was glued to the TV to watch the start of the Senate Judiciary Committee. Chairman Arlen Specter gaveled the committee to order to consider the nomination of Judge John Glover Roberts Jr. as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. Day one included Judge Roberts’ introduction of his family and friends in attendance, followed by four short speeches by prominent senators advocating for his confirmation. This abbreviated session was to accommodate the short attention spans of Roberts’ two young children. The meeting was adjourned for the day with the formal occasion to resume the following morning.

As an amateur connoisseur of great speeches and the courtroom drama that testimony in front of Congress can engender, I was impatient for the next day. I was not disappointed. Judge Roberts, dressed in a black suit and starched white shirt and tie (but without his customary gold cuff links) looked like he was out of central casting. He assumed his seat after the customary swearing-in ritual. However, what was strikingly different was the starkness. The table where he sat and made his opening statement was devoid of items. Not a single note, pen or even a glass of water. One man sitting all alone looking up at 18 senators (nearly half of them partisan enemies hoping to derail his career), while he looked totally relaxed, confident and alert.

Devoid of any speeches or even cue cards, he politely thanked several and transitioned to his Indiana roots, referring to “the limitless fields punctuated only by a silo or barn.” It evoked an image of Middle America that effortlessly transported the entire committee back to their own memories of growing up. It was a flawless finesse that allowed him to exclude any reference to his life in the exclusive Long Beach community on Lake Michigan or his selective education at La Lumiere, a college prep school where a jacket and tie were required for classes and the dining hall. He graduated No. 1 in his class in 1973 and was the school’s first Harvard-bound student. Naturally, he graduated from Harvard summa cum laude in 1976, and graduated magna cum laude from Harvard Law.

He would let others plump his resume, while he edited himself down to a plainspoken, modest Midwesterner. Janet Malcolm commented in The New Yorker: “Watching Roberts on television was like watching one of the radiantly wholesome heroes that Jimmy Stewart and Henry Fonda played. It was out of the question that such a man be denied a place on the Supreme Court.”

Roberts was aware of the value of including a vivid metaphor, quotable line or a phrase to memorialize the event and he picked a good one. “Judges are like umpires. Umpires don’t make the rules, they apply them. The role of a judge and an umpire is critical. They make sure everyone plays by the rules, but it is a limited role. Nobody ever went to a ballgame to see the umpire.” That is now a common definition often used when needed.

It was a twist of fate that John Roberts was being interviewed for Chief Justice. On July 19, 2005, President Bush had nominated him to fill the vacancy created by the retirement of Justice Sandra Day O’Connor. While this nomination was still pending, on Sept. 3 Chief Justice William H. Rehnquist died from thyroid cancer. During the process of selecting Justice O’Conner’s replacement, Bush had solicited the opinion of several young lawyers in the White House. One was Brett Kavanaugh, who had been nominated to the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals. Kavanaugh told him that both Roberts and Samuel Alito would be solid choices, but the tiebreaker would be who was most capable of convincing their colleagues through persuasion and strategic thinking. On this basis, Roberts was clearly the best.

After the Hurricane Katrina disaster that August, President Bush had no appetite for controversy. Reports on Judge Roberts’ interviews in the Senate were going so well that he changed Roberts’ nomination to Chief Justice. That would delay the O’Conner replacement for several months and the court would have to operate with only eight members. This was fortunate, since a highly unqualified Harriet Miers, who worked for Bush in the White House, was the lead candidate to replace O’Conner … and with more time to consider her credentials, saner heads prevailed.

The next three days of hearings offered an exquisite buffet for addicts like me. It started with a round of 10 minutes per senator and it was mildly amusing when Senator Joe Biden’s pontificating took so long that he ran out of time before asking a single question. Judge Roberts displayed remarkable intellect – and a wry sense of humor – when discussing important Supreme Court cases. When Senator Lindsey Graham of South Carolina asked Roberts what he would like future historians to say about him, Roberts joked: “I’d like for them to start by saying, ‘He was confirmed!’”

Questions fell into a regular rhythm and Roberts answered them almost effortlessly. In addition to his education and experience, the “Murder Boards” – the phrase used for pre-hearing rehearsals – must have really fine-tuned every aspect of what was anticipated. Even today, prospective nominees study the tapes of his hearing as part of their preparation. I got the feeling he was being polite to a bunch of partisan senators (all lawyers) without acting too condescending.

Senator Chuck Schumer of New York became so frustrated at one point he said, “Why don’t we just concede John Roberts is the smartest guy in the room.” In another memorable exchange, Schumer complained, “You agree we should be finding out your philosophy, and method of legal reasoning, modesty, stability, but when we try to find out what modesty and stability mean, what your philosophy means, we don’t get any answers. It’s as if I asked you what kind of movies you like. Tell me two or three good movies and you say, ‘I like movies with good acting. I like movies with good directing. I like movies with good cinema photography.’ And I ask, no, give me an example of a good movie, you don’t name one. I say, give me an example of a bad movie, you won’t name one, and I ask you if you like Casablanca, and you respond by saying lots of people like Casablanca.”

Senator Specter started to cut Schumer when Roberts interrupted, “I’ll be very succinct. First, Doctor Zhivago, and North by Northwest.” Yes, there was laughter in the room.

Roberts made it out of the Judiciary Committee on a vote of 13-5 as Democrats found creative excuses to vote no. Then it was on to the full Senate, where he was confirmed 78-22. The 50-year-old Roberts became the youngest Chief Justice since 1801, when the venerable John Marshall (46) was selected.

The Chief Justice is mentioned only once in the Constitution, but not in Article 3, which establishes the judiciary. It is in Article 1, covering Congress, and it says the Chief Justice presides over the Senate during any impeachment of the president (Article 1 Section 3 Clause 6).

The framers vested the Senate with the “sole power to try impeachment” for several reasons. First, they believed senators would be better educated, more virtuous and more high-minded than members of the House. Secondly, it was to avoid the possible conflict of interest of a vice president presiding over the removal of the one official standing between him and the presidency. Of our 45 presidents and 17 Chief Justices, only Andrew Johnson and Bill Clinton have been impeached, with Samuel Chase and William Reinquist presiding over their trials. Both were acquitted.

Tornadoes, cash registers, indictments and pardons

One of the most famous tornadoes appeared in 1939’s *The Wizard of Oz*. This original half sheet promotional poster for the movie sold for $108,000 at a March 2019 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

On Easter Sunday 1913, a great tornado ripped through Omaha, Neb. As people scrambled for cover, a naked man was blown through a dining-room window. He grabbed the tablecloth to use as a toga and politely asked the startled family for a pair of trousers. The local newspaper dubbed him the “human meteorite” and went on to report how the twister sucked two babies out the window of the town orphanage. Another man reported the body of a 4-year-old girl dropped out of the sky into his arms, while cows were impaled on fence posts and chickens were plucked clean. That night, another dozen clouds raced across Iowa, Illinois, Missouri, Michigan and Indiana.

After the storms’ initial volley, heavy rains began to fall, swelling the Ohio River until its levees could no longer stem the angry waters and they were breached. The submerged cities included Fort Wayne, Columbus, Cincinnati and Indianapolis. However, Dayton, Ohio, was hardest hit as the Miami River rushed downtown, washing away homes and stranding residents on roofs, buildings and even telephone poles.

Dayton-based businessman John Patterson (1844-1922) immediately seized command and converted a factory assembly line to turn out rowboats for use in rescuing trapped inhabitants. A large plant cafeteria started baking bread and other foodstuffs. Most of Dayton’s provisions were either underwater or ruined by floodwaters. Many of the town’s residents owed their lives to Patterson’s quick actions. Still, over 300 people perished and damages topped $2 billion.

Patterson had launched his business career in December 1884 when he purchased the rights for “Ritty’s Incorruptible Cashier” for $6,500. James Ritty (1836-1918) was an Ohio bar owner who discovered what all bar/restaurant owners eventually learn: Employees inevitably start pilfering cash, booze or food. Many a chef has walked out with a ham or turkey under their coat on the way home. Or perhaps served friends and relatives drinks without keeping tabs.

Ritty’s invention was a machine positioned atop an adding machine that kept track of orders or controlled the cash. Patterson improved the design by adding the now familiar pop-up number, a cash drawer and a bell that rang when employees used it. He quickly recognized the potential profit in selling the machine to various retail merchants. All were potential customers. Thus, the National Cash Register Company was formed and Patterson went to work developing a skilled sales organization. Trainees were enrolled in a “Hall of Industrial Education” and after graduating, received their own exclusive territory to sell the new invention.

It was an immediate success and the company gained a reputation for generous commissions. A new factory was built with glass walls so the sun could shine through. This was the era when most factories were called “sweatshops” for good reason. In addition, Patterson included free medical clinics, a swimming pool and an employee cafeteria serving healthy food. The grounds were sculptured landscapes designed by architect John Charles Olmsted.

Patterson was a demanding boss and the list of future prominent businessmen he fired was a long one. One was Thomas Watson Sr. (1874-1956), who owned a butcher shop with a shiny NCR cash register. After the business failed, Watson went to work at NCR until Patterson fired him. Watson would go on the build International Business Machines (IBM) into a world-class institution. Another was Charles Kettering (1876-1958), a near genius engineer who went to work for General Motors after he was fired several times. He would head up GM’s engineering research department for 30 years. In addition to inventing the automobile electric self-starter, he recorded 186 patents and became a towering member of the Inventor Hall of Fame.

Patterson was a ruthless competitor and built a “gloom room” filled with cash registers from all the competing companies he ruined. In 1912, the company was found guilty of violating the Sherman Antitrust Act after acquiring over 80 direct competitors and ending up with a 95 percent market share. Patterson and 26 of his executives were headed to jail for a year after President Wilson refused to pardon them.

But fate intervened and an appeal overturned the conviction, partially because of Patterson’s good deeds during the Great Flood of 1913. Dayton welcomed them with a giant parade.

Pardons can be tricky for presidents, but all have used the power. Franklin Roosevelt holds the record with more than 3,600 acts of clemency! Since they were spread over four terms, there was not much political criticism. President Clinton was not so fortunate. On Jan. 20, 2001, his last day in office, he granted 140 pardons. One was to Marc Rich, an international commodities trader indicted by U.S. Attorney Rudy Giuliani in 1983 on 65 criminal counts involving income tax evasion, wire fraud and racketeering. Rich fled the United States.

When it was revealed he was still a fugitive and the pardon had been handled by Jack Quinn, it caused an uproar from both prominent Democrats and Republicans (Quinn had been Clinton’s White House Counsel). Then things escalated when it was discovered his ex-wife made donations to the DNC, the Clinton library, and Hillary’s Senate race. Attorney General John Ashcroft asked federal prosecutor Mary Jo White to investigate, but James Comey took the lead when White left the government. The probe was closed down after federal investigators ultimately found no evidence of criminal activity.

Hmmn. Giuliani, Clinton, Comey. Small town.

Here’s why DeWitt Clinton had real nerve, visionary leadership

This DeWitt Clinton memorial pewter rim went to auction in February 2018.

By Jim O’Neal

If you’re not weary yet of presidential politics, hold on. Bill and Hil Clinton are on a 13-city speaking tour using a conversational format followed by a Q&A session. They are most likely eyeing 2020 as yet another chance to move into a big white house in the 1600 block of Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, D.C. The current occupants do not seem to have a good chance of making it two more years, but next in line is a family named Pence.

The name “Clinton” was also prominent in Washington, D.C., and NYC during the 18^th and 19th centuries, and perhaps even more pervasively. George Clinton (1739-1812) is generally considered a Founding Father as he participated in the French and Indian War and was a brigadier general in the Continental Army. He was also a delegate to the Continental Congress in 1776, but opposed adoption of the U.S. Constitution. Like Samuel Adams, he finally relented when the Bill of Rights was added.

He then turned to politics and in 1777 was elected (concurrently) to become lieutenant governor and governor of New York. In the second presidential election in 1792, he came in third behind George Washington and John Adams, but ahead of Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr. Clinton served four more years as governor of New York and held the record for longest-serving governor (21 years) until it was broken in December 2015 by Terry Branstad of Iowa. Branstad is now the U.S. Ambassador to China.

George Clinton then served as vice president for Thomas Jefferson in his second term (1805-1809) after Jefferson dropped Aaron Burr (presumably because he killed Alexander Hamilton in a duel in 1804). Clinton then served as vice president for James Madison until Clinton’s death in 1812. This was the first time the office of vice president was vacant and also the first time a VP served for two different presidents. Later, John C. Calhoun would serve as vice president for two different presidents (John Quincy Adams and Andrew Jackson) as he unsuccessfully tried to position himself for the top spot.

However, we are more interested in George Clinton’s nephew, DeWitt Clinton (1769-1828), who challenged James Madison for the presidency in 1812. DeWitt was a U.S. Senator from New York, mayor of NYC, and the sixth governor of New York. It was during his time as governor that he made his mark on history.

At the time, the great American rivers on the Eastern seaboard – like the Hudson, Delaware and Connecticut – were woefully underutilized for transportation or commerce. The primary modes for river transportation were limited to the currents, wind, various animals or one’s own feet. And, of course, going upstream against the currents was difficult and essentially impractical. But there were exciting things going on in Europe that would help transform the United States.

James Watt’s coal-fired steam engines were powering the spinning machines that transformed cotton into high-grade cloth. The cost was so low that the material could be shipped all the way to India and still be cheaper than local hand looms. Since England was sitting on huge supplies of coal and the coalmines could use the abundance of labor, it was a near-perfect situation. The remarkable Industrial Revolution was in full swing, transforming a nation of shopkeepers into a modern nation. The same near-perfect balance occurred in steel production following Henry Bessemer’s technique that obsoleted iron.

Attaching a steam engine to a boat was the next big thing and America’s ingenuity took over. By 1807, an American who had spent most of his life in England and France decided to return to America and tackle this obvious opportunity. Robert Fulton’s boat, the North River Steamboat, was 133 feet long with a tonnage of 160. It literally dwarfed all other experimental steamboats and was ready for a trial run to Albany.

Most skeptics believed Fulton would not be able to ever move 1 mile per hour or be of any utility. With smoke plumes marking its progress, the North River headed north on the Hudson. It arrived in Albany in 32 hours, averaging nearly 5 mph … upstream. On the return, it was back in a mere 30 hours. Vindicated, Fulton predicted it would soon be providing quick and cheap conveyance on the Mississippi, Missouri and others. He was right, as the Mississippi, Ohio and every other major river would soon have steamboats churning up and down their waters.

Even as steam had conquered America’s rivers, other geographic features limited commerce. Mountains were near impossible, and flat lands required the considerable exertion of horses, oxen and people. Land-based commerce – which was rapidly becoming the major activity – was both limited and expensive. One solution was canals and that’s where Governor DeWitt Clinton re-enters the picture. He personally championed the Erie Canal when others (including Thomas Jefferson) thought the idea was “little short of madness.”

Thanks to Clinton’s unwavering efforts to overcome all objections, on July 4, 1817, construction began on a 363-mile canal that was dug all the way from Lake Erie to Albany, N.Y. … blasting its way through mountains with powder from E.I. Du Pont de Nemours; the powder was DuPont’s only product for the company’s first 60 years of its existence. It took eight years and a budget of $6 million, raised from bonds from the public rather than squabbling with state bean counters. It was a lot of money; for perspective, the entire federal government budget for 1811 was $8 million. So hats off to a Clinton with real nerve, perspective and the kind of leadership vision that built this nation.

As an aside, today the federal government spends $8 million every 56 seconds. Maybe that’s why we have bridges that crumble, airports that lag third-world countries and we owe someone $22 trillion.

Believe it or not, electing presidents has never been a pleasant affair

An 1889 letter in which Rutherford B. Hayes discusses his inauguration sold for $19,120 at an April 2007 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

One discouraging trend in American culture is treating everything from a partisan-political standpoint. I can recall not too long ago after an election, we’d simply forget about our disagreements about candidates and resume normal civility. Now it seems that nearly everything gets politicized, dividing the nation into continually warring tribes of Red and Blue. Some political pundits see the starting point as the 2000 Gore versus Bush election, with its hanging chads and the controversial Supreme Court decision to stop the vote recount in Florida. Others believe the feud between President Bill Clinton and Speaker Newt Gingrich exacerbated it.

However, to accept either theory requires ignoring the 1876 presidential election between Samuel Tilden and Rutherford B. Hayes.

Hayes, the Republican, was a lawyer from Ohio who distinguished himself during the Civil War as a brave soldier who was wounded five times and eventually promoted to a brevet major general. After the war, he served in Congress and was elected governor of Ohio three times.

Tilden also had a legal background and was the 25th governor of New York (1875-76). As the Democratic candidate for the presidency in 1876, he is still the only individual to win an outright majority (not just a plurality) of the popular vote, but lose the election … in a rather bizarre series of events. Four other candidates have lost the presidency despite having a plurality of the popular vote (Al Gore and Hillary Clinton are the most recent to suffer this fate).

It had generally been assumed that incumbent President Ulysses S. Grant would run for a third term, despite a troubled economy and numerous scandals that had been discovered during his two terms, which started in 1869. There was also the two-term precedent established by George Washington. In spite of these formidable barriers, Grant’s inner circle of advisors were eager to maintain political power. While Grant was on the verge of announcing his candidacy, the House of Representatives preempted him by passing a resolution by an overwhelming margin, 233-18, establishing a two-term limit to prevent a dictatorship. Grant reluctantly withdrew his name from consideration.

The Democrats proceeded with their National Convention in June 1876 in St. Louis (the first time a major political convention was held west of the Mississippi). They selected Tilden on the second ballot and added Thomas Hendricks for vice president, since he was the only one nominated. The Democrats were hungry for a win since they had been out of power since James Buchanan, who was elected a full 20 years earlier in 1856.

What followed was the most contentious presidential election in American history. On the first vote in the Electoral College, Tilden had 184 votes (only one short) while Hayes was stuck at 165. However, there were 20 votes being contested in four states (Florida, Louisiana, South Carolina and Oregon) and both parties were claiming victory. This impasse caused a Constitutional crisis and, finally, a beleaguered Congress passed a law on Jan. 29, 1877, to form a special 15-member Electoral Commission to settle the dispute. After a great debate, the commission awarded all 20 disputed votes to Hayes, who became president with 185 votes to Tilden’s 184.

In return, Republicans passed a resolution that required an end to Reconstruction and the removal of all federal troops from every Southern state. Over the next 20 years, the states passed all kinds of laws and regulations that effectively wiped out the provisions of the 14th and 15th Amendments to the Constitution that granted numerous rights to the black population. It would take another 60 years to regain them when LBJ was president and finally crack the “Solid South” grip on national politics.

Maybe we are doomed to be a divided nation, but I suspect that strong leaders will emerge, eventually, and help us remember the advantages of a group of united states … E pluribus unum.

America has a Long History of Rough-and-Tumble Politics

A cabinet card photograph dated 1852, shortly after the marriage of Rutherford and Lucy Hayes, went to auction in October 2008.

By Jim O’Neal

A surprisingly high number of political pundits ascribe the current bitter partisan divide to the presidential election of 2000, when the Supreme Court ordered the recount of “under-votes” in Florida to cease. As a result, the previously certified election results would stand and George W. Bush would receive all 25 Florida electoral votes, thus providing him a 271-266 nationwide victory over Al Gore. Democrats almost universally believed the election had been “stolen” due to the seemingly unprecedented action by the Supremes.

Although obviously a factor in the situation today, it seems too simplistic to me, as I remember the Clinton Impeachment, the start of the Iraq War (and the president who lied us into war), and, of course, Obamacare – all of which were also major contributors to the long, slow erosion of friendly bipartisanship. Now, we’re in an era when each new day seems to drag up a new issue that Americans can’t agree on and the schism widens ever so slightly.

Could it be worse?

The answer is obviously “yes,” since we once tried to kill each other into submission during the Civil War. Another good example is the highly controversial presidential election of 1876, which resulted in Rutherford B. Hayes becoming president. The loser, Samuel J. Tilden, had such staunch supporters that they promised “blood would run in the streets” if their candidate lost. After a highly ultra-controversial decision threw the election to Hayes, Democrats continued to make wild threats, and public disturbances were rampant across New York City hotels, saloons, bars and any other venues where crowds gathered.

The unrest was so high that outgoing President Ulysses S. Grant gradually became convinced that a coup was imminent. This was the closest the Dems had come to the White House since James Buchanan’s election 20 years earlier in 1856 and passions were so high that they would not be calmed easily. The level of resentment was much more than about losing an election or the ascendancy of the Republican Party with all their fierce abolitionists. It seems apparent even today that the election results had been politically rigged or, at a minimum, very cleverly stolen in a quasi-legalistic maneuver.

Grant’s primary concern was one of timing. The normal inauguration date of March 4 fell on a Sunday and tradition called for it to be held the next day, on Monday, March 5 (as with Presidents James Monroe and Zachary Taylor). Thus the presidency would be technically vacant from noon on Sunday until noon on Monday. The wily old military genius knew this would be plenty of time to pull off a coup d’état. He insisted Hayes not wait to take the oath of office.

In a clever ruse, the Grants made arrangements for a secret oath-taking on Saturday evening by inviting 38 people to an honorary dinner at the White House. While the guests were being escorted to the State Dining Room, Grant and Hayes slipped into the Red Room, where Chief Justice Morrison Waite was waiting with the proper documents. All went as planned until it was discovered there was no Bible available. No problem … Hayes was sworn in as the 19th president of the United States with a simple oath.

The passing of power has been one of the outstanding aspects of our constitutional form of governance.

Hayes was born on Oct. 4, 1822 – 2½ months after his father had died of tetanus, leaving his pregnant mother with two young children. From these less-than-humble beginnings, the enterprising “Rud” got a first-rate education that culminated with an LLB degree from Harvard Law School. Returning to Ohio, he established a law practice, was active in the Civil War and finally served two non-consecutive terms as governor of Ohio, which proved to be a steppingstone to the White House.

Most historians believe Hayes and his family were the richest occupants of the White House until Herbert and Lou Hoover showed up 52 years later. They certainly had a reputation for living on the edge of extravagance, and some cynics believe this was in large part due to the banning all alcohol in the White House (presidents in those days paid for booze and wine personally). Incidentally, the nickname for the first lady, “Lemonade Lucy,” did not happen until long after they left the White House.

President Hayes kept his pledge to serve only one term; he died of a heart attack in 1893 at age 70. The first Presidential Library in the United States was built in his honor in 1916.

No President has been Removed by Impeachment, Conviction

A 1996 letter President Clinton sent to a journalist, regarding an article that had moved the president, sold for $10,755 at a February 2010 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

On Jan. 7, 1789, members of the Electoral College cast 69 votes for George Washington to become the first president of the United States, while John Adams, who finished in second place with 34 votes, became the first vice president.

These electors, who had been chosen by white men who were landowners in 10 states, also cast votes for John Jay (9), Robert Harrison (6), John Rutledge (6), Samuel Huntington (2), John Milton (2), Benjamin Lincoln (1), and Edward Telfair (1). Forty-four electors failed to cast a vote.

North Carolina and Rhode Island were ineligible since their statehood had not been ratified. New York did not appoint the eight electors they were eligible for since they were deadlocked in their state legislature.

We still use the Electoral College, as established by the Constitution, which has been modified several times and today gives all citizens age 18 and over the right to vote for electors, who in turn vote for the president and vice president (only). On the first Monday after the second Wednesday in December, each state’s electors simultaneously cast their ballots nationwide.

Then on Jan. 6, the electoral votes are counted before Congress and, finally, on Jan. 20, the president is sworn into office. In the case of George Washington, he wasn’t sworn in until April 30, 1789, since Congress didn’t count the electoral votes until April 6.

Exactly 210 years later, on Jan. 7, 1999, the impeachment trial of President William Jefferson Clinton began in the U.S. Senate, with senators sworn in as jurors and Chief Justice William Rehnquist sworn in to preside. President Clinton was formally charged with lying under oath and obstruction of justice.

Four years earlier, he had sexual relations with a 21-year-old unpaid intern in the White House before she was transferred to the Pentagon. Contrary to his sworn testimony in an unrelated sexual harassment case, President Clinton admitted to a grand jury (via closed-circuit television) that he had not been truthful.

On Dec. 11, 1998, the House Judiciary Committee approved three articles of impeachment. On Dec. 19, the full House approved two articles of impeachment: lying under oath to a grand jury and obstructing justice. On Feb. 12, the Senate voted on the perjury charge and 45 Democrats and 10 Republicans voted “not guilty.” On the charges of obstruction of justice, the Senate vote was split 50-50.

This was the third and last time the Senate Judiciary Committee had voted to impeach the president of the United States. Two were found not guilty (Andrew Johnston in 1868 and Bill Clinton), while a third, Richard Nixon, resigned to avoid what was an almost certain guilty verdict. (In 1834, the Senate voted to “censure” Andrew Jackson).

National Debt on Automatic Pilot to More Growth

A letter by President George W. Bush, signed and dated July 4, 2001, sold for $16,730 at an April 2007 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

In May 2001 – just 126 days after President George W. Bush took office – Congress passed his massive tax proposal. The Bush tax cuts had been reduced to $1.3 trillion from the $1.65 trillion submitted, but it was still a significant achievement from any historical perspective. It had taken Ronald Reagan two months longer to win approval of his tax cut and that was 20 years earlier.

Bush was characteristically enthusiastic about this, but it had come with a serious loss in political capital. Senator James Jeffords, a moderate from Vermont, announced his withdrawal from the Republican Party, tipping control of the Senate to the Democrats, the first time in history that had occurred as the result of a senator switching parties. In this instance, it was from Republican to Independent, but the practical effect was the same. Several months later (after the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon), there was a loud chorus of calls to reverse the tax cuts to pay for higher anticipated spending.

Bush had a counter-proposal: Cut taxes even more!

Fiscal conservatives were worried that there would be the normal increase in the size and power of the federal government, lamenting that this was a constant instinctive companion of hot wars. James Madison’s warning that “A crisis is the rallying cry of the tyrant” was cited against centralization that would foster liberal ideas about the role of government and even more dependency on the federal system.

Ex-President Bill Clinton chimed in to say that he regretted not using the budget surplus (really only a forecast) to pay off the Social Security trust fund deficit. Neither he nor his former vice president had dispelled the myth about a “lock box” or explained the federal building in Virginia that had been built exclusively to hold government IOUs to Social Security. In reality, they were simply worthless pieces of scrip, stored in unlocked filing cabinets. The only changes that had ever occurred with Social Security funds were whether they were included in a “unified budget” or not. They had never been kept separate from other revenues the federal government received.

But this was Washington, D.C., where, short of a revolution or civil war, change comes in small increments. Past differences, like family arguments, linger in the air like the dust that descends from the attic. All of the huge surpluses totally disappeared with the simple change in the forecast and have never been discussed since.

Back at the Treasury Department of 15th Street, a statue to Alexander Hamilton commemorates the nation’s first Treasury Secretary, a fitting honor to the man who created our fiscal foundation. But on the other side stands Albert Gallatin, President Thomas Jefferson’s Treasury Secretary, who struggled to pay off Hamilton’s debts and shrink the bloated bureaucracy he built.

Hamilton also fared better than his onetime friend and foe, James Madison. The “Father of the Constitution” had no statue, no monument, no lasting tribute until 1981, when the new wing of the Library of Congress was named for him. This was a drought that was only matched by John Adams, the Revolutionary War hero and ardent nationalist. It was only after a laudatory biography by David McCulloch in 2001 that Congress commissioned a memorial to the nation’s second president.

Since the Bush tax cut and the new forecast, the national debt has ballooned to $20 trillion as 9/11, wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and the 2008 financial meltdown produced a steady stream of budget deficits in both the Bush and Barack Obama administrations. The Donald Trump administration is poised to approve tax reform, amid arguments on the stimulative effect on the economy and who will benefit. In typical Washington fashion, there is no discussion over the fact that the national debt is inexorably on automatic pilot to $25 trillion, irrespective of tax reform. But this is Washington, where your money (and all they can borrow) is spent almost with no effort.

“Just charge it.”

Reagan’s Last Christmas in Office Marked by Memorable Snowy Fairyland

1980s-ronald-reagan-win-one-for-the-gipper-signed-photograph — A photograph signed by Ronald Reagan with the inscription “Win one for the Gipper” sold for $8,365 at a November 2014 Heritage auction. It’s considered the most famous line Reagan spoke on the silver screen, in 1940’s *Knute Rockne, All American*.

By Jim O’Neal

In 1980, Ronald Wilson Reagan became the oldest man (69) to be elected president. He extended his record in 1984 when he was reelected at age 73. For their last Christmas in the White House, the Reagans wanted to make a splash. The East Room was transformed into a snowy fairyland, with full-size trees and a gift-filled sleigh occupied by carolers and drawn by lifelike horses, all powdered with glittery “snow.” It was a vintage Hollywood image.

Thousands of visitors filed by and looked on in both delight and amazement at the dazzling scene. Nothing remotely like this had ever been seen in the White House. It was a playful farewell by two whose roots were as firmly planted in Hollywood as John F. Kennedy’s were in Boston or Lyndon B. Johnson’s on the banks of the Pedernales River.

On his final day in office, Jan. 20, 1989, President Reagan went to the Oval Office early and met with his Chief-of-Staff Ken Duberstein and General Colin Powell, the National Security Advisor. Both of them said reassuringly, “Mr. President, the world is quiet today.” After they left, Reagan also left the office, stopping at the door for one last look. George and Barbara Bush were arriving in the entrance hall below.

On the route from the Capitol to the White House, the incoming President George H.W. Bush and first lady took a cue from the Carters, leaving their car from time to time to walk along Pennsylvania Avenue to greet the crowds. They walked up the driveway on the same path all their predecessors had followed since James Monroe’s second term, 168 years before.

History linked the inauguration of George H.W. Bush and George Washington. It had been exactly 200 years since the first president began serving his first term.

President Bush had an extensive background that included two terms in Congress, ambassador to the United Nations, director of the CIA, liaison to China, and eight full years as vice president. He had easily defeated Michael Dukakis to win the presidency, but in the process famously declared “Read my lips. No new taxes!” – words that would haunt him.

Although favored for reelection in 1992, he got caught in a buzz saw when third-party candidate Ross Perot siphoned off nearly 19 percent of the popular vote and a young governor from Arkansas won with a plurality of 43 percent. William Jefferson Clinton and Al Gore Jr. became the youngest president and vice president in history.

George H.W. Bush became the 10th incumbent president to lose in a bid for reelection after becoming the first sitting vice president to be elected president since Martin Van Buren in 1836.

The strange world of presidential politics. We love it.

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is President and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as Chairman and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

Presidential Election Has All the Elements for a Third-Party Surprise

This Roosevelt & Johnson campaign flag for the 1912 “Bull Moose” Progressive Party ticket realized more than $5,900 at a May 2010 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Former NYC Mayor Michael Bloomberg recently indicated he may once again consider a run for the presidency, presumably as a third-party candidate. He had similar aspirations in both 2008 and 2012, but finally concluded it would be futile.

Most politicos presume this is a low possibility, primarily because historically, third-party aspirants have not fared well at the ballot box. Most believe that the current two-party system is tilted against third parties, unless there are unusual situations.

The most prominent example was over 100 years ago when Teddy Roosevelt broke his promise of “no third term” by declaring he had actually meant “no consecutive three terms.” Once he failed to get the Republican nomination, he broke away and ended up finishing second as a Progressive (Bull Moose) candidate in 1912. This ended up dividing Republican support for President Taft and allowed Woodrow Wilson to capture the presidency in an upset.

A similar situation occurred in 1992 when Ross Perot siphoned off 19 percent of the popular vote and Bill Clinton defeated the incumbent President Bush 41 with 43 percent of the popular vote.

Another example is the Libertarian Party, which fielded their first presidential candidate in 1972. After a convention in Salt Lake City, they chose John Hospers (who was chairman of the Philosophy Department at USC) for president and Theodora “Toni” Nathan for vice president.

Out of 77 million votes cast, they received a grand total of 3,674 official votes.

However, there was one “faithless elector,” Roger MacBride from Virginia, who decided that the Libertarians were more deserving than Nixon/Agnew and cast his vote for them (maybe he knew something?). Regardless, the result was that Hospers became the last third-party candidate to win an electoral vote and Toni Nathan became the first, last and only female to ever win one (as a third-party candidate).

For the record, Strom Thurman snagged 39 electoral votes in 1948 and George Wallace ended up with 46 in 1968. Ross Perot received almost 20 million votes in 1992, but ended up with zero electoral votes.

The “Corrupt Duopoly” that journalist Tom Friedman labels the current political elite has become very effective at limiting third-party efforts to break through. This may be a good thing when compared to the multi-party systems in Europe that require odd coalitions to form governing majorities.

This election year has all the elements to provide a surprise for the first time in many years.