A native of Beaumont, Texas, and a World War II veteran, Jack Brooks served for forty-two years in the U.S. Congress, representing Texas’s 9th district. One of the most influential congressmen nobody ever heard of, Brooks is finally getting his due in this new biography, the first ever written about his life. The Meanest Man in Congress: Jack Brooks and the Making of an American Century chronicles in fascinating detail not only the career of a remarkable lawmaker, which spanned the tenures of ten U.S. presidents, but also the epic sweep of American history in the latter half of the 20th century, from the Kennedy assassination to the Iran-Contra affair.
Packed with anecdotes about the irascible Brooks based on his personal correspondence, interviews with his peers and family members, and more, this meticulous biography traces the incredible life and times of a true public servant, a man who applied his tenacious will to practical, across-the-aisle governance for the good of his constituents and his country. At a time when Brooks’s brand of selfless service is in short supply and American politics has become a zero-sum game, distinguished authors Timothy McNulty and Brendan McNulty bring into high relief the character of a man who knew how to compromise and bargain, negotiate and cooperate to get things done.
A native of Beaumont, Texas, and a World War II veteran, Jack Brooks served for forty-two years in the U.S. Congress, representing Texas’s 9th district. One of the most influential congressmen nobody ever heard of, Brooks is finally getting his due in this new biography, the first ever written about his life. The Meanest Man in Congress: Jack Brooks and the Making of an American Century chronicles in fascinating detail not only the career of a remarkable lawmaker, which spanned the tenures of ten U.S. presidents, but also the epic sweep of American history in the latter half of the 20th century, from the Kennedy assassination to the Iran-Contra affair.
Packed with anecdotes about the irascible Brooks based on his personal correspondence, interviews with his peers and family members, and more, this meticulous biography traces the incredible life and times of a true public servant, a man who applied his tenacious will to practical, across-the-aisle governance for the good of his constituents and his country. At a time when Brooks’s brand of selfless service is in short supply and American politics has become a zero-sum game, distinguished authors Timothy McNulty and Brendan McNulty bring into high relief the character of a man who knew how to compromise and bargain, negotiate and cooperate to get things done.
Meanest Man in Congress, The: Jack Brooks and the Making of an American Century
576
Meanest Man in Congress, The: Jack Brooks and the Making of an American Century
576eBook
Available on Compatible NOOK devices, the free NOOK App and in My Digital Library.
Related collections and offers
Overview
A native of Beaumont, Texas, and a World War II veteran, Jack Brooks served for forty-two years in the U.S. Congress, representing Texas’s 9th district. One of the most influential congressmen nobody ever heard of, Brooks is finally getting his due in this new biography, the first ever written about his life. The Meanest Man in Congress: Jack Brooks and the Making of an American Century chronicles in fascinating detail not only the career of a remarkable lawmaker, which spanned the tenures of ten U.S. presidents, but also the epic sweep of American history in the latter half of the 20th century, from the Kennedy assassination to the Iran-Contra affair.
Packed with anecdotes about the irascible Brooks based on his personal correspondence, interviews with his peers and family members, and more, this meticulous biography traces the incredible life and times of a true public servant, a man who applied his tenacious will to practical, across-the-aisle governance for the good of his constituents and his country. At a time when Brooks’s brand of selfless service is in short supply and American politics has become a zero-sum game, distinguished authors Timothy McNulty and Brendan McNulty bring into high relief the character of a man who knew how to compromise and bargain, negotiate and cooperate to get things done.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781603064118 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | NewSouth Books |
| Publication date: | 05/10/2019 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 576 |
| File size: | 7 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
12 All the Way with LBJ LBJ as Dear Friend The president was a dear friend of Brooks, as well as a political ally. Even in the midst of his enormous schedule in the Senate, then the Executive Office Building and finally the White House, Johnson had managed to send Brooks a personal letter for his birthday almost every year since 1953. Brooks often said that the thing that people did not know about Johnson was how thoughtful he was. If Johnson knew that someone’s relative was sick, he would often not just ask after him or her, but he also would send flowers. When Charlotte’s father, Vernon Collins, fell ill and was admitted to St. Luke’s Episcopal Hospital in Houston, Johnson sent a personal note. Dear Mr. Collins, Charlotte and Jack came by last night and told me that you were ill and in the hospital. Lady Bird and I are both so sorry but feel that anyone close to a wonderful girl like Charlotte is close to us. We just wanted you to know that we’re thinking of you and pulling for you. Early in 1968, when Jeb was just an infant, Brooks and his little family were in a car accident. Brooks’ wrist was broken, Charlotte had bruises, but little Jeb was OK. The president responded immediately with a telegram: We just heard that you were involved in an accident but were so very relieved to learn that no one seriously hurt. Please take care of yourselves, and of Jeb, because we’ll be depending upon him someday to take care of us. Brooks responded in the same way during Johnson’s hospitalizations. In 1965, Brooks sent the president a note telling him he would be glad “to come over and win a few hands” of cards. In February the next year Lyndon was again in the hospital and Brooks, along with friends, J. J. Pickle, Willard “Bill” Deason and two Supreme Court justices, Abe Fortas and Tom Clark, volunteered to visit the hospital and play dominoes with the president on any Saturday. As he knew Johnson enjoyed smoking and would have plenty of leisure time, Brooks sent him a cigarette holder as a get-well present. Johnson responded: Dear Jack: That beautiful cigarette holder cheered my recovery from the operation considerably. It is just the right thing to use–in between smokes–as a bean blower for disciplining recalcitrant members of the Senate. Right now, I am deep in the heart of my favorite state and hope to be back soon with all of my good friends–a list headed especially by Jack Brooks. Lady Bird could also be tremendously gracious. The Brookses gave her earrings one year and she sent over a note to the house on Capitol Hill. Dear Jack and Charlotte. The earrings are an absolute joy—I was enchanted with them and I don’t have anything like them at all. The story behind how they came to me will also add greatly to the warmth and pride with which I shall wear them. You are so thoughtful to do this for me. Always fondly, Lady Bird The mementos and notes are legion. There is a photo of Johnson with Brooks’ mother Grace at the Brooks’ farm in Jasper. Brooks frequently visited the Johnsons at their ranch. We went to his ranch many times and we would ride around in those big convertibles and look at his deer. But he never did want me to hunt them because he knew I would kill several of his big bucks and he didn’t want anybody killing those big animals, so I never did. But when I would land at the ranch in a plane, he’d meet me at the plane with one of those pretty girls who worked for him and hand me a scotch and water. And that was kind of nice, kind of a warm greeting from a president of the United States. That’s the way we operated. He came to see me one time. We lived up on the Hill at a house [304 C. Street N.E.] and I remember one Sunday morning I woke up and I could hear him walking up the stairs and I could hear Bird saying, “Lyndon, you should have called him.” And it’s Johnson and his wife and Secret Service men just coming to knock, say hello and have coffee on a Sunday morning. Charlotte and I were still in bed, we got up quickly and came down and visited with them and had coffee and had his picture made with him holding our baby son, Jeb, and looking in a big mirror we had on the wall down stairs. They were wonderful people. Bird was a sweetheart; she’s a thoughtful person. She had on a nice wool sweater with flowers embroidered on it that looked wonderful on her and Charlotte had given her that a couple of years ago because we liked them and we loved them and we wanted to do things that they appreciated because they had been so kind to us. One of the nice things was sailing on the Honey Fitz and Sequoia--yachts they kept on the Potomac River--and we would go out on the large one for the evening and have drinks and dinner on the ship. Go down the river and turn around and come back and everybody then go home. When you went out there you were supposed to get there early and wait and never drink or do anything, I guess, just stand around and wait for the president. When I got on board ship I would get the waiters, Filipino waiters, to get me a drink while I was waiting. I didn’t want to just sit around there for thirty minutes maybe, I wanted to have a drink then and so I did. And when he would come in I would have a toast and say here’s to our president and he would just look at me, he didn’t say anything. But he understood and he was very kind. He was something else, something else. There was even a non-political connection between the two couples. Charlotte’s mother went to San Marcos College, now part of the Texas State University system, a few years behind Johnson. He’d always ask about her, and that was very nice. And that weekend he said, “What do you think your mother’s doing?” And I said, “I don’t know.” Then he said, “Call ‘em. I’m going to send the plane to come and get ‘em.” Which they did, sent that little plane to Cameron, Texas, and brought them back out to the ranch. And he wanted mother to be able to sleep in the room where Jackie Kennedy had slept. He thought that was a nice thing for my mother. And it was. Screwworm There is a craft, perhaps an art, in dealing with influence and presidential politics. Dolph Briscoe, Brooks’ lifelong friend, one of the richest landowners in Texas and a former governor, recalled a valuable lesson he learned while enjoying the camaraderie of both Brooks and Johnson. The story of the screwworm pest and the program to eradicate it from Western farmlands actually began many years before any of these three men were in power. The flies’ larvae eat living flesh and cause havoc in cattle, but the early programs to eradicate them in Florida and in some Caribbean herds was promising. After decades of research, the U.S. Department of Agriculture developed a program in the 1950s to sterilize the male fly and break the reproductive cycle by spreading the sterilized male screwworms into the native fly population. For people not directly involved in the livestock business, there would be no reason for knowing about the screwworm or the devastating damages it had on the livestock industry in Texas, which Briscoe estimated to be in the hundreds of millions of dollars a year. Years after his efforts to get federal help in the matter, he would recall, “It seemed we were going to have to do something about it, or we just couldn’t stay in the livestock business.” In the late 1950s, Briscoe, who was then head of the state’s Cattle Raisers Association, teamed his organization with similar ones representing sheep and goat raisers and other wildlife interests to raise more than $3 million to boost eradication efforts. In 1958, Briscoe buttonholed Johnson, who was then Senate majority leader, when they both were visiting Jack Garner in Texas for his ninetieth birthday. Johnson didn’t have much interest in the issue when Briscoe brought it up. He didn’t say it, but he looked at me like I had mighta just gone off my rocker. The USDA insisted the program wouldn’t work in Texas because herds could become re-infected easily from Mexico, but one of the two scientists who helped develop the program of fly sterilization, Dr. (Raymond) Bushland, didn’t agree with the agency and he was vociferous. [However,] the agency would not start a screwworm eradication program in Texas. Several years later, the problem had only intensified. Orville Freeman was secretary of agriculture at the time, Briscoe recalled, “and he was from a Northwestern state where they never had a screwworm. So, I appealed to Jack for help, ‘cause obviously we needed help. He called me and said, “OK, come on up to Washington, and then we’ll work on it.” Briscoe said the USDA had summoned Bushland to Washington for disciplinary action. “So, I got him into a real jam. I mean that was part of it.” Brooks told Briscoe he would set up a meeting with the president: Jack was on very good terms with President Johnson at that time. They admitted that years earlier they had not been on that good of terms, but they had gotten to where they were extremely close. In fact, there was no member of the Texas delegation or any other delegation in Washington that was as close, personally, to President Johnson as Jack Brooks. So, Jack said, “I’ll set it up, and we’ll go over to the White House.” And, of course, that, to me, was great. Just going to the White House for a country boy like me, now that was big enough, you know. I mean, boy, that was something.’ And, so he set it up this way, just the two of us, say five o’clock in the afternoon, some such time. We drove over in Jack’s car, and we went into the west side, between the West Wing and the old Navy office building (the Executive Office Building), and that parking area where only cabinet people get to park. They had a space reserved for Jack right next to the entrance to the West Wing, the west entrance. I thought, well, this is a pretty good start. That’s sort of nice, so, and drove up there, and the gate just flew open, and nobody questioned anything. They knew Jack’s car and of course, I was just riding along with him. Anyway, we went in. We went into the president’s office, the Oval Office. And, anytime you go into the Oval Office, it’s a thrill. Now, that was a real thrill. And, there was the president, sitting at his desk, working in the Oval Office. And, he said something like, ‘Sit down.’ And he was busy, so we sat down. And then there’s a little office, a little private office that the president has next to the Oval Office, very small office, but it’s his private office. And, when he got through, he said, ‘OK, let’s go in here.’ So, we went into the private office, just the three of us. And, of course, for me, I’d never been there. Never expected to go there. And we went in there, and it was time to strike a blow for liberty or whatever you want to call it. Anyway, we had a drink, and talked, and I got carried away. You know, it was a tremendous experience just to be there. And then he said, the president said, ‘OK, well, it’s time to go up, and we’ll have dinner.’ Well, that sounded good. And, so we went up to the private quarters where I’d never been before. And that in itself was quite a thrill. And, then Mrs. Johnson joined us, and it was just the four of us. And, we went into the private dining room and had a wonderful dinner. And, of course, with President Johnson, you never had to worry about conversation. ‘Cause he literally talked all the time, never ever stopped. For the times I had been around him in the past, he never stopped talking. And he liked to have, or had to have people around. He had to have somebody to listen. And, anyway, we had a very nice dinner, and then he said, ‘OK, we’ve got some movie,’ I forgot what movie it was, ‘down in the projection room.’ I said, ‘OK, we’ll go down and see the movie.’ And, the four of us went down into the lower part. They call it the basement of the White House, where there’s one room down there set aside to show movies. Well, the four of us watched the movie. And, when the movie was over, say, I don’t know whether it was ten-thirty, eleven o’clock or something. And then, of course, I’d had the time of my life, you know and I’d forgotten all about the screwworm program. Hadn’t even thought about it. And then we were walking down the hall, and the President and Mrs. Johnson were going to the elevator, and Jack and I were going to go out the steps and go out to where his car was, and walking down the hall, Jack stopped and he said, ‘Now listen, Briscoe, you dumb so-and-so,’ I mean, and so forth. Jack always had colorful language, and for all occasions. And he said, ‘We’ve been here now for five hours, and you haven’t said one blankety-blank word about what you came over here to talk about, and we’re about to leave, and you’ve not gotten one blankety-blank thing done that you needed to do. You’ve forgotten everything about what you…’ I mean, he gave me a lecture there. And he said, ‘You’ve got to talk to the president before he gets in the elevator.’ And we were going down the hall. Well, President Johnson stopped, and he leaned over on the wall, you know, and said that he was tired. And he could always put on a good show. And, so I realized then that I was about to lose my, about to have blown my opportunity. So, I talked to him about the screwworm program, and again, fortunately, he knew what it was, I mean, he knew what the screwworm program was for. He had doctored cattle when he was a kid. And so, he knew what we were talking about. And, he said, ‘OK,’ something like this, ‘I’m tired, and I’m going to bed. But,’ he said, ‘I’ll tell you what,’--One thing about President Johnson, he never forgot a friend. And, if anybody had been his friend, he’d try to help you. And that night, this is what he said, he said something to this affect, he said, ‘OK, I’m going to go to bed, but I’ll tell you what I’ll do in the morning. The first thing, I’ll call Orville Freeman.’ I said, ‘I thank you, Mr. President.’ And that was it. I heard in the next few days what their plans were, and how they were going to handle legislation and so forth. It was fascinating. But, you know, it wasn’t my position to give him any advice. Jack could, of course, but not for me. Anyway, it was a great experience. And it was all because of Jack. Vietnam In the later years of Johnson’s presidency, however, the issue of Vietnam was a painful subject that could not be ignored. It was the war that Johnson inherited, enlarged and passed on, to his everlasting regret. For all his success with domestic legislation and accomplishments in changing the social and political structure of the United States with the civil rights and providing for elderly and the poor with Medicare and Medicaid, Johnson was brought low by an ill-chosen war in Southeast Asia. It was a proxy war, many thought, for the larger Cold War just as the conflict in Korea had been fifteen years earlier. The thinking was that Communism was a global force that could collapse countries like dominoes. LBJ’s Selma Speech The war protests began in earnest shortly after Johnson’s response to the violence of Selma with his speech in March 1965 that laid out the framework for the Voting Rights Act. With that stirring talk, Johnson had responded to the ever-present protesters outside the White House who had thought he was moving too slowly on civil rights. Within a month, however, more protesters were back outside, railing against the war and increasingly meeting Johnson wherever he would travel. And the tenor of these protests had changed. The protests had not just switched out the topics from civil rights to war; the essence of these new demonstrations was hatred, and not just at a policy or social condition but at Johnson. He became the object of these protests and not just an intermediary. They met him at every public event he attended and they chanted outside his home every night for the rest of his presidency “War Criminal!” “Hitler is Alive—in the White House!” “Hey! Hey! LBJ! How many kids did you kill today?” Over the course of his five years in the presidency, tens of thousands of American lives were lost in the jungles and rice paddies; many more Vietnamese from both the north and south died, and billions of dollars were spent in a conflict that would come to such a tragic, drawn-out end under Johnson’s successor, Richard Nixon. For all the hope and vigor of the first two years of Johnson’s presidency, including his landslide election against Goldwater in 1964, Johnson’s full term in the office was beset by ever-increasing casualty figures, misguided advice from his generals and a loud anti-war movement that created division across the country, separating fathers against sons, setting students against their college administrations, and pitting draft resisters and protesters against the military. The military blamed the media for its losing support among civilians. The uncertain goals of the intense fighting and bloodshed generated a political divide not only with Republicans but also within the Democratic Party. Brooks supported Johnson on the war and on most foreign policy questions, as he did with presidents Eisenhower and Kennedy before him. On those issues, Brooks followed the unspoken rule that existed among congressional committee chairman; they deferred to each other on their special areas or particular assignments. In an interview with Ralph Nader during Nixon’s first term, Brooks explained why he sided with presidents when it came to Vietnam, no matter if their policies were consistent with each other. I give ‘em the benefit of the doubt that they are doing their dead level best. Some have met with varying success. For a while, too, Brooks was privy to some of the executive-level access to information coming out of Southeast Asia. He would attend weekly briefings at the White House on the “Vietnam situation” in 1964 and 1965, the same period as Johnson escalated the number of U.S. troops in combat there. As opposition to the war grew and the dream and progressive cohesion of the mid-1960s transitioned into the charged and tumultuous divisions of the late-1960s, there were small but perceptible signs that all the personal attacks on Johnson, often vicious, were taking their toll on the man, who was quickly approaching his sixtieth birthday. Brooks did not recognize the change, but the young Charlotte could see the president becoming increasingly weary from the onslaught. We’d sit up there and have supper and they were chanting outside, ‘Hey Hey, L-B-J, how many kids did you kill today?’ He was hearing that. I think it just finally got to him. He talked about the war a lot. But you know, you just kind of listened. He just had to get it off his chest. His son-in-law [daughter Lynda’s husband, Charles Robb,] was over there in Southeast Asia. It was hard for him. Johnson appreciated the support that Brooks provided. In March of 1967 he wrote his friend: Dear Jack: It is hardly necessary for me to tell you once again how much I am inspired and sustained by your advice and friendship. But I do want to tell you how very much I appreciate your statement of last week concerning Vietnam. You more than most, appreciate that a president–to use your own words–“has the responsibility of dealing with a situation as it exists, “and not as we might wish it to be. That is what I am trying to do, and with God’s help and the continued support of men like Jack Brooks, I believe we are going to deal with it successfully. Brooks later recalled the effect that the war and its protesters had on Johnson: That was painful. Very painful for Johnson, who did not like to do things that offended or hurt anybody. He was very careful. When he became president and was running things I told him one time ‘You know you are a little easygoing every now and then in some areas,’ that he didn’t really crack down on a few folks and I thought maybe he should. He said, ‘You know, Jack, when you’re president you have to be careful you don’t hurt somebody you don’t really want to hurt.’ Johnson all in all was a magnificent president. If it hadn’t been for the war, which he didn’t start originally, but he couldn’t get rid of it. Those people didn’t want to make peace. They had plenty of people to get killed. That didn’t worry them at all–they just didn’t want to quit. Tet Offensive In late January 1968, the Viet Cong launched their infamous Tet Offensive, coordinated surprise attacks across Vietnam that displayed a vigor that surprised an American public that had come to believe the communists’ ability to fight to be waning. 1968 Primaries As the next election was in sight, Bobby Kennedy, Eugene McCarthy, and others were thinking of challenging Johnson, as was Republican Richard Nixon. Johnson, seemingly discouraged by so much division and pained by a subpar performance in the New Hampshire primary, came to the conclusion that he would not stand for re-election. Nevertheless, with all the various pressures Johnson was dealing with, he never gave Brooks or any of his other confidants any indication that he would not seek re-election, a decision that stunned many in the nation when he finally made the announcement on March 31. Brooks was riding in a car and listening to the radio when he first heard the news. He later recalled: It was a real shock… but, you know, I never chided him about it. I didn’t think it was bad. These people say he shouldn’t have done it, or he should have. I figure it’s his own business. I thought he was entitled, if he didn’t feel he was well enough to do it and wanted to survive, to quit. He’d worked his heart out, done a great job. There was another overriding consideration. I felt, and he never did tell me this, but I always felt that he thought that if he said he wasn’t going to run that he might go on and work out an accord in Vietnam without being accused of political motivations. Plus the fact that I’m sure he’d served long and ably and kind of wanted to get back home. It’s not so bad out on the Ranch, you know. That decision opened up the path for many and kicked off a year that would see one tragedy after another. Four days later, King was shot and killed outside his motel room in Memphis, an event that sparked race riots across the nation and reduced swaths of major cities to rubble. Two months later, Robert Kennedy was shot and killed moments after winning the California Democratic primary over McCarthy. Prodded in part by those assassinations, Congress moved for the first time since the Depression to enact new laws surrounding the purchase of guns. On October 22, 1968, Johnson signed into law the Gun Control Act which banned most interstate shipments of long guns to individuals, sales to individuals except in their own state (with some exceptions), the sale of long guns to persons under the age of 18 and handguns to those under 21, and the importation of military surplus weapons from abroad. It was the last piece of legislation Johnson would sign as president and bittersweet victory for his administration. Just five years prior, Lee Harvey Oswald had used an alias to purchase an Italian 6.5 Mannlicher-Carcano rifle from a retailer in Illinois after seeing an advertisement in the National Rifle Association’s magazine American Rifleman. Mail order purchases across state lines would no longer possible. In October, Johnson also halted all bombing of North Vietnam in advance of the planned peace talks in Paris. Two weeks later, Nixon was elected his successor. Nixon had won the election on the promise of “peace with honor” in Vietnam. In January, just a few weeks before Nixon’s inauguration, the city of Nederland, Texas, passed a resolution thanking President Johnson for his service. Though Nederland only had a few thousand citizens and the gesture was hardly newsworthy, Brooks felt that the act actually meant a great deal. He sent Johnson a copy of the resolution and wrote a message to his friend about what it represented: As you are preparing to leave the Presidency, I think this is an appropriate and honest expression of the respect and esteem you enjoy in the Ninth District of Texas and throughout our country. I know that as you review your years of service to our country you will feel a very great deal of justifiable pride. You also can be certain that this feeling is shared by the vast majority of Texans and Americans. Above all else, Johnson valued the loyalty of others. In his interactions with his chief aides and speech writers, this manifested itself in the complete breakdown of any barriers, physical or psychological in the performance of his position as a public servant. From the perspective of an outsider, these ranged from the comical to the perverse: aides taking dictation from him as he sat on the toilet; his chief, “Buzz” Busby, remaining at his bedside until the president was entirely asleep. To his staff, working with Johnson meant completely unobstructed intimacy. From his allies, Johnson was less demanding, but only in the manner of loyalty that he required. He was a vote-counter in every regard, and for him it was not enough that his side to win, but it also had to be unanimous. One errant vote was failure. He had to know that his colleagues were with him all the way and if they were not, he would wear them down until they were. From Brooks, what Johnson held most dear was his counsel, which was objective, and his support, which was unfailingly reliable. Over the years, the Johnsons sent many kind notes and signed pictures to Brooks and Charlotte, whether for some family event, for holidays such as Christmas or at the passing of some major piece of legislation. November 20, 1968 Dear Jack: Lady Bird and I are delighted by the news of your re-election to Congress. It just would not be the same body without you. You have served your people--and your president--ably and well, and I want you to know that I will always be deeply grateful. Sincerely, Lyndon Johnson (Handwritten) See all of you at lunch tomorrow There are inscribed photos along the desk, credenzas and walls of the Brooks home. One in particular reads: To Charlotte and Jack Brooks, whose fidelity and friendship have given me strength and purpose. Lyndon B. Johnson. In January of 1969, the Johnsons left the White House and returned to the LBJ Ranch, which had been their refuge, secondary office and hosting facility since they had purchased it twenty years prior. The ranch, which had been bustling for the last twenty years with guests of the Johnsons who included the commanding names of Washington and international politics, was now best characterized by its solitude. Johnson’s own sense of mortality may have cast a dour atmosphere over it as well. He had told friends that he would not live much past sixty years old. His father had died of a heart attack around then, as had Johnson’s uncle. He made it publicly known that he did not expect to last long either. He resumed smoking cigarettes, a vice he had not permitted himself to indulge in openly since his first heart attack in 1955. Though his daughters objected, on this issue he was not to be moved. “I’ve been president! And now it’s my time.” The Brookses continued to visit them there as they often had during the previous ten years. Brooks recalled one visit in 1971: We went out there and took Jeb and Kate. Before Kim was born. Jeb was about four. He invited the whole University of Texas football team, ‘cause he thought that would please Jeb. Now Jeb didn’t know one end of the football from the other, but that was a nice gesture. Then he gave the children rides in the bubble-front helicopter. Very, very thoughtful. Fun things. The couples continued to write each with frequency as well. No birthdays or major holidays went by without some notice of the high regard in which they held each other. LBJ’s Death and Lady Bird’s Letter Then finally, on April 4, 1973, Lady Bird reached out once more, this time after her husband lay in state in the Capitol: ‘Dear Jack, Lyndon always valued your support and friendship on the floor of the House and I know he would have been grateful that you stood by him one last time in the rotunda. Thank you for that final honor, and know that we are still remembering your tribute with warmth and appreciation. Sincerely’ and then, in her own handwriting, ‘Affectionately, Bird.’