Or, as the subtitle puts it: Remarkable Off-the-Record Conversations with Gerald R. Ford; Thomas M. DeFrank's book, similar to Bess and Harry is a lighter read that doesn't delve deep into policy issues and the nitty-gritty details in that department. As a window into the character of Gerald Ford, however, it is phenomenal and very informative. Like most, I knew very little of Ford other than he took over from Nixon* and lost to Carter (and Red jokes in one episode of That '70s Show from Red that "nobody voted for him").
Prior to this, I was probably more familiar with Betty Ford—and it was easier to find books about her than about him in the Half Price Books where I used to go. This is a credit to her, as Betty Ford was a pretty amazing woman: people aren't very accepting of alcoholism today, and much less so back then, but she not only was open and upfront about her struggle with addiction, she was willing to put her name on the Betty Ford Center so that people would see that even someone that high up with society can sruggle, too. That takes a helluva lot of courage.
Now, some fun tidbits about ol' Jerry Ford: that's not his birth name. It was Leslie Lynch King, Jr., but his biological dad was a real abusive piece of shit he didn't want anything to do with, so he took on the name of his stepfather, Gerald Rudolff Ford (talk about a savage move: not only does he change his name, he changes it so he's a different guy's Jr.; that's not a burn you can call the fire department for, that's a Dantean inferno for the ages).
He also was closer to the ideal of "self-made" than today's "self-made" republicans. He busted his ass during college and despite Chevy Chase making him into a buffoonish caricature on SNL (and Ford was somehow prone to physical blunders, but after eight years of presidents who don't pay attention and trip over random things, I think we can maybe understand that in 2024), he was a talented football player at the University of Michigan and received offers from both the Detroit Lions and the Green Bay Packers. In these younger years, he was a striking and handsome man, not likely what many who only remember the balding politician would expect.
Time has its way with us all (Getty)
Ford also played a major role in changing the norms when it came to presidents profiting from the prestige granted a former president.* As DeFrank puts it, "The financially strapped college kid who sold his blood to a hospital for $25 a pop was determined to live well in retirement and provide for his four kids and his grandchildren," though he also clarifies that, "In a given year, he always made far more pro bono appearances, and raised millions for charitable causes."
And, unlike conservatives of today, was quite friendly with the press—an early anecdote has him giving his home phone number to a rookie assigned to cover him on weekends and another has him, after a bad speech, asking the press corps what they thought. Given no answer, he bursts out laughing and remarks on how yeah, he knew it was a bad speech. The book's title, Write It When I'm Gone, is also a fun play on this lighthearted relationship with the press, referring to a time when he told the author something along these line in reference to basically, "I don't want to deal with the blowback when some of this comes out, write it when I'm gone."
Another thing that comes through is Ford as a perceptive man; regarding Nixon, he remarks "when the pages of history are written, nobody can say I contributed to it." (Followed by: "I was thunderstruck: Moments before, he'd assured me Nixon would ride out the firestorm. Now, impulsively, he'd blurted out the truth...")
This was one of the interesting impressions I got from the book: Ford stood by Nixon because he didn't want some conspiracy to crop up that he'd played a role in ascending to the presidency by choice. Even to the author of the book, he seems to continually insist Nixon will weather the storm—but in the moment when he utters the above line, it breaks through that Ford has known for a long time it was inevitable he'd likely have to take over after Nixon left and had more or less resigned himself to it.
Maybe a part of him really did hope, on some level, he'd be able to avoid ascending to the presidency under such murky, controversial circumstances and pardoning Nixon was as much a way for him to expunge his own mind of tormented thoughts of his predecessor as it was to get Nixon out of the public eye. In later years, he would admit to disdain for Nixon's 'palace guard' approach to the White House (inspired, I believe per MacMillan's Nixon and Mao, by his admiration of Chairman Mao's use of a similar technique—a bit yikes) and he also had a low opinion of Spiro Agnew, Nixon's original vice president who had to step down due to corruption.
Despite living not too far apart durig retirement, it appears the two never got together to reminisce on the good ol' days.
As much as Ford was a fundamentally decent person—and received a lot of praise for this, especially after the tumultuous Nixon revelations and Watergate—he wasn't exactly winning any awards for charisma or public speaking.
This would become a serious problem for him in the 1980 primary: Ford was a much better and more responsible president than Reagan, but he lacked the charisma from a lifetime of appearing in shitty b-movies (seriously, Reagan's biggest hit was Bedtme for Bonzo, where he co-stars with a chimpanzee. We're not talking a Gary Oldman or a Daniel Day-Lewis here) and the willingness to tap into the deep resentments of evangelicals and fundamentalists. A lot of conservatives like to point to Barry Goldwater's The Conscience of a Conservative as a big lynchpin of their thinking; I believe it's Bush Jr. who talks about his big ol' boner for it in 41, his memoir on Bush Sr., but conservatives from Reagan on seem to have forgotten one of Goldwater's best pieces of advice:
“Mark my word, if and when these preachers get control of the [republican] party, and they're sure trying to do so, it's going to be a terrible damn problem. Frankly, these people frighten me. Politics and governing demand compromise. But these Christians believe they are acting in the name of God, so they can't and won't compromise. I know, I've tried to deal with them.”
Surprisingly, Dick Cheney of all people was Ford's protege; kinda hard to reconcile someone as decent as Ford ended up with a protege who is happy to be compared to Darth Vader, signed a 'waterboarding kit' during a gag by Sacha Baron Cohen, and shot a guy in the face (don't worry, the guy apologized to Cheney for getting in the way of the gun).
Also discussed are Ford's relationships with other presidents, a bit like a truncated version of The President's Club and these are always fun. From his distaste of Reagan:
"Nonetheless, [Ford] neither liked nor respected the former Hollywood actor. He considered Reagan a superficial, disengaged, intellectually lazy showman who didn't do his homework and clung to a naive, unrealistic, and essentially dangerous worldview" (DeFrank, 209).
To his almost visceral dislike of Carter gradually thawing: they helped one another get their presidential libraries off the ground. While the two remained a bit at odds on a lot of things, they were at least able to build a positive, friendlier relationship. With Clinton, he believed that his personal behavior was iffy and his didn't really have much in the moral department going for him, but they had friendly interactions. They also commiserated about Carter's naive attempts to cram himself into international affairs.
These are the kinds of interesting interactions that are fascinating to read about: the presidency is an incredibly unique job with few surviving prior office-holders alive at any given time. Getting a glimpse at how they interact with one another is cool—kinda like knowing how shockingly close Bill Clinton is with the Bushes, to the point he's considered almost an adopted family member. Or that Nixon and Clinton got along pretty well, too, as in later years Nixon took on a bit of an elder statesman role and loved to be of service to his successors in the White House who would speak to him.
All in all, however, Write It When I'm Gone is a lighter, brisk read, as I stated before. As a rundown for the dirty details of politics and legislative details, this isn't your thing; as a character study that provides insight into the prominent players involved, connects to other reading I've done in the era, and helps to see historical figures as people instead of marble figures, it is a stellar read.
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*For as troubled a man as he became, Conrad Black's biography of Nixon does an effective job paining him in a sympathetic light. Black himself is a problematic figure with his own controversies and he seems to have taken a far-right turn last I heard about him, so you could argue with equal merit that either 1) of course he'd understand Nixon better than most or 2) maybe his experience makes him quite qualified to write about and humanize someone he can Atticus Finch and walk a mile in his shoes quite easily.
Maybe F. Scott Fitzgerald had some thoughts about holding two contradictory ideas at once: “The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function.”
Another troublesome figure, Henry Kissinger, also has a great quote on Nixon: “Can you imagine what this man would have been like if somebody loved him?" Nixon grew up poor and helped his family to scrape by; he lost one brother at a young age and struggled so much with it than when a younger brother asked him, decades later, about the deceased, Richard broke down and had to leave; he was so introverted that while most Presidents enjoyed going out in public to mingle with the public, he preferred solitary time to write his thoughts on a legal pad.
I am by no means defending his crimes, but at the end of the day, Nixon didn't just wake up one day and think, "The sun is shining, the birds are singing, I'm gonna go out and be a terrible person." Humanizing him and trying to understand seems a more worthwhile and rewarding approach.
**For a rundown on presidents and their financial welfare, limited to the twentieth century: the Roosevelts were independently wealthy. McKinley and Harding didn't have to worry about much due to a terminal case of "dead." Taft and Wilson, if memory serves, had individual benefactors who helped them out. Coolidge and Hoover—independently wealthy (Hoover, despite his disastrous presidency, did some pretty cool humanitarian world, especially post-WWI).
FDR, again, bad case of "dead." Truman wasn't so well off. When Eisenhower signed the Former Presidents Act, essentially, it would only impact Truman and Hoover—but Hoover didn't need the cash. The only reason he came onboard was because he knew Truman would be too proud and embarrassed to take the cash if he didn't (akin to how he found it tasteless and denigrating to the office of President to sell out for ceremonial high-paying jobs when he wasn't bringing anything to the table). Truman and Hoover actually had a pretty cool friendship, per The Presidents Club I believe; Hoover was iced out of the White House during FDR's term, and it meant a lot to him when Truman was in charge and invited him to come for a visit. They didn't agree politically, but they became pals.
Anyway, moving on from that: Eisenhower's set, plus the Act would impact him on leaving office. JFK would've been set, having come from wealth, but again, a serious case of that "dead" thing got in the way before that happened. LBJ retired to his ranch and, living up to his own premonition and his family history, passed away at 64 a few years later (1973). Nixon was comfortable, too, and, well, people weren't exactly clamoring to touch Nixon with a ten-foot pole (though the Frost/Nixon interview was a major exception).
Ford, however, went all in with taking on things like ceremonial board seats and stuff that required very little effort, hey really just wanted his name for prestige and were willing to pay big bucks for it. It raises some ethical questions, as the book points out, but it's also hard to judge as someone who thinks, "Well, shit, I'd go sit in on one or two meetings a year of just about anything and pretend to listen for a few hundred thousand bucks." As the book also points out, he did a lot of charitable work, which far outweighed his for-profit work.
When complaints regarding the Former Presidents Act and Ford's continued income came up, no one really gave a damn and he got a deserved pass. It was also brought up, in Ford's defense, that it wasn't his fault the Act didn't account for a president who still had energy post-presidency.
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