An American Experience

Presidential Libraries are great places to get a macro view of a slice American History from a singular point of view.  This week, we drove 60 miles north to Yorba Linda, California, the birthplace of Richard M. Nixon, and the location of the Nixon Library, the 37th President of the United States.

President Reagan called these libraries “classrooms of democracy” that belong to the American people.  Operated through the National Archives, they give a balanced picture of the world as it was.  True, the Nixon Foundation would like to focus on the more positive aspects of Richard Nixon’s presidency (I could find no pictures of Vice President Spiro Agnew at the museum, for example), but the National Archives ensures that the whole story is revealed: dirty tricks and all.

President Nixon, of course, will always be linked to Watergate.  His paranoia  and retaliatory personality are present in the permanent Watergate exhibit.  It was this coverup that led to his resignation August 9, 1974.  

Perhaps the most moving interview I saw was a clip from the famous David Frost interview in 1977.  Mr. Nixon was surprised to be asked what he thought about the American people.  This was his answer:

“I let them down. I let down my friends, I let down my country, and worst of all I let down our system of government, and the dreams of all those young people that ought to get into government but now they think; 'Oh it's all too corrupt and the rest'. Yeah... I let the American people down. And I'm gonna have to carry that burden with me for the rest of my life. My political life is over.”

As I walked through the exhibits, I realized what a pivotal time his presidency occupied in our history: civil rights and the women’s movement; man on the moon; the end of the Vietnam war; protests for peace; Title IX; historic meetings with China; the return of the POW’s (including Sen. John McCain) from Vietnam; and of course the Congressional hearings into Watergate.

As a working journalist, I believed the adage that my role was to write the first draft of history.  And after visiting the Nixon Presidential Library, I see how this tumultuous time of my youth shaped me, and inspired me, in ways I had not considered. 

Richard Nixon quoted Socrates as he looked back on his long life: "We must wait until the evening, to see the glory of the day."  Mr. Nixon said it had been a glorious day, but that one had to suffer the deepest valleys in order to appreciate the glory of life’s peaks.  Without a doubt, this was a president who led our nation through many deep valleys.  

Camp Pendleton

We have lived on the Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton for a week now.  Located North of San Diego, the base is the prime amphibious training base for the Marines.  With 17 miles of coastline and 125,000 acres of diverse desert-like terrain, it is an important location for sea to shore training of Marines and other branches of the military.

Our first morning here, we were eating breakfast when a caravan of Amphibious Assault Vehicles (AAVs) passed on their way to the Del Mar Marina. As I look at the Marines at work, I see youngsters the age of my daughters.  Their faces are ruddy and sun-kissed, their expressions serious and on task.  Their training is not without risk.  A year ago one of these AAV’s sank in the marina and a young Marine died.

I can’t mistake these Marines for children.  Most here have been to Iraq or Afghanistan at least once.  The numbers tell the story: as of January 2012, 3,708 troops have lost their lives in our Wars on Terror.   The Marines make up 10.8% of the Department of Defense forces, but they have had 23.3% of all combat-related deaths.  In addition, 420 Marine officers and 8,178 enlisted men and women have been wounded in action.  The Wounded Warrior Center here on base is, unfortunately, a busy place.

Camp Pendleton was established in 1942 to train Marines for World War II.  Marines lived in tents and Quonset huts.  By 1944, it was declared a permanent installation by FDR.  During the Korea and Vietnam, some 200,000 Marines would pass through here on the way to the Far East, including my brother-in-law John Chadd.  The men of the Vietnam era would not recognize Pendleton today: There are now more than 2,600 buildings and the base has 500 miles of roads.

In 1975, Pendleton was the first military base in the United States to provide accommodations for Vietnamese evacuees in Operation New Arrivals.  50,000 refugees came here in the largest humanitarian airlift in history.

Today the sun is shining, and I watch as young guys in colorful shorts and t-shirts carry coolers of beer and footballs to the beach for a well-earned break. Many have wives or girlfriends with them. The picture is deceiving: It is anywhere USA on the beach in the spring, but even at play, these guys carry the weight of the world on their shoulders.  

Makin' a List...

If you believe the old adage that bad things happen in three's, I was in big trouble.

It started when we took a short trip with the 5th wheel to have some routine maintenance performed.  I neglected to secure the wine and it tumbled out of an overhead cabinet and shattered all over the carpet and chairs in transit (you guessed it, it was red! I might note that Jameson Whiskey bottles seem indestructible).


Next, I accompanied Larry to Dallas for FFDO training and managed to drop a bottle of single malt scotch on the marble floor in the front of the reception desk at the Hyatt Regency.

So as we contemplated our first real move as full-timers, I decided it was time to get serious and avoid the curse of the third broken bottle.  What did I do?  What every daughter/wife of an airline pilot would do: I created a checklist.

My checklist includes the big things (like bring in the slides), which you are not likely to forget, and the little things (like secure the red wine), which obviously get overlooked by novice RVers.

I had 33 things on my checklist.  My daughter, Shelby, made the snarky comment, "Did you yell 'clear prop' before driving out?"

Make all the jokes you want, little sister, but we arrived at Camp Pendleton, about 50 miles north of our Chula Vista home, with everything intact...and enough wine to toast our new environs.

Road Trips are in my DNA

The women in my family have always been big on road trips, whether for necessity or pleasure.  My mother has memories of moving from one Army base to another: her mother the solo parent with four little ones in the back seat.

When my girls were little, my mom and I used to get up in the middle of the night to begin the 17 hour journey from our home in Tampa, Florida, to my sister's house in Cincinnati, Ohio.  We loved the dark hours before the sun came up when we could talk and share stories and drink coffee while the girls slept tucked away in their car seats.  When they woke up, they knew PopTarts were on the menu--something that would never happen at home.

So it was natural that I would say an enthusiastic yes when Shelby asked me to join her in Portland to drive all her college things back to San Diego.

Coming into the Portland airport was bittersweet.  I've traveled here so many times in the past five years.  The first time when we went for our orientation tour at Linfield College.  Then in the fall when the leaves were glorious shades of orange, yellow, and red, to comfort a homesick freshman unaccustomed to rainy weather.

So this trip is the end of a chapter and the beginning of Shelby's life as an adult.  I stopped to get coffee and waited on the curb by baggage claim for her to pick me up.  True to form, my packrat beauty was easy to spot from a distance: her bed strapped to the roof of her car, every inch of the inside packed full.

Life passes too quickly, but I am convinced these trips are gold: crammed together in a car surrounded by the remnants of her college life, we munched on PopTarts and drank too much coffee.