When I was 9 or 10 years old and my mom was attending
graduate school at UT during the summer, we rode the bus from our rooming house
one block off campus to hear Lyndon Baines Johnson speak at the Paramount
Theater in downtown Austin. At the end of his speech, mom and I waited until the
rush of people had cleared, and then we went up on the stage, and mom made a
grand point of introducing me to Mr. Johnson. I remember with such clarity that
this giant of a man, bent in half to gently hold and kiss my small,
white-gloved hand. Indeed, that single moment in time triggered my life-long infatuation
with LBJ.
You don’t have to have a memory of Lyndon Johnson kissing
your hand to have an interest in him however. He inherited the Presidency in
1963 when John F. Kennedy was assassinated, was elected to the Presidency in
1964, and is credited for legislation that upheld civil rights, created public
broadcasting, Medicare, Medicaid, and strengthened environmental protection,
education and the “war on poverty.” He is also credited for escalating the horrific
war in Vietnam, bringing about the “antiwar movement” that is so vivid in the
memories of my young adulthood.
Robert Caro’s (pictured) most recent of three book about Johnson, The Passage of Power, is not just about
Johnson, it is about Lyndon Johnson, John Kennedy and Robert Kennedy, and how
their lives so tragically and historically intertwined during the 1960’s. The Passage of Power begins with
Johnson’s disastrous hesitation in 1960 to mount his presidential campaign,
resulting in his losing the nomination to John Kennedy. This was a catastrophe to
Johnson who had wielded unharnessed power as the Senate Majority Leader for
seven years, and whose life-long ambition was to be President of the United
States. After a fascinating and intricate political dance between the
Kennedy’s, LBJ, Sam Rayburn, John Connally and other formidable characters,
Johnson was offered and accepted to run as Kennedy’s Vice Presidential
teammate.
When asked why he would accept the no-power position as
Kennedy’s VP, Johnson said, “Power is where power goes,” which is a powerful
statement. But in fact, Johnson went from power magnate in the Senate, to being
called “Rufus Cornpone” by the Kennedy staff. Caro gives us a glimpse into the painful emasculation of Johnson, the quiet cunning of John Kennedy, and the viciousness of Bobby Kennedy.
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