87: A DAY WITH NIXON WAS MISSION: POSSIBLE

After my photographer hopped out of bed at 7:00am on Monday August 6, 2018, he placed me into the camera case for a full day of Presidential sites. His wife, on the other hand, was dressed in beach attire and was not in our plans at all. Vicki was getting a break from us as Tom and Rhonda Currier had planned to take her to Huntington Beach where they could relax along the ocean. That meant my camera guy and I were left fending for ourselves, and we couldn’t be happier. Well, not totally by ourselves. It turned out that George Washington was joining our two-some for the day and that had the makings for the perfect Presidential sightseeing day.

We left Currier’s home in the Mustang at 8:50am and drove to Gary Beard’s place, which was only a couple of miles away. When he came to the door, my photographer and I were disappointed that Gary wasn’t dressed in his General Washington military uniform. Instead, he wore a buttoned-down shirt and regular shorts. Tom asked Gary if he had a reason for not dressing like the General and Beard stated that he would be besieged by photo requests at Nixon’s Library and he wanted us to enjoy the visit without many distractions. I thought to myself: “I’ve only seen paintings of George Washington depicted in a uniform or fancy 18th century clothing; it’s cool to see the Father of our Country wearing comfortable 21st century clothes”.

While Richard Nixon’s Presidential Library was the main attraction scheduled for the day, Tom had another place he wanted to take me and Gary first. It was roughly a 40-mile drive east from Gary’s “Mount Vernon” home to Riverside, California where we found the historic Mission Inn. My photographer found a parking place about two blocks from the enormous hotel and when we arrived in front of the ornate building, it was a sight to behold. Large does not accurately describe the Mission Inn, as the goliath building consumed the entire city block.

The first paying guest stayed at a boarding house on November 22, 1876 when the place was called The Glenwood Cottage. In 1902, Frank Augustus Miller bought the cottage from his father and changed the name to the Glenwood Mission Inn. During Miller’s 30-plus year construction period, the building grew higher, larger, and became more luxurious – until Frank died in 1935. His daughter Allis and her husband became owners until their deaths in 1956. The hotel changed hands a few more times until current owners Duane and Kelly Roberts bought it in 1992. The Mission Inn has four restaurants, a day spa, and 239 guest rooms – nine of which have been designated as presidential suites. As we walked around the exterior and I posed for numerous photos, I couldn’t help but think of some of the famous people who had visited the Mission Inn in the past. Historical figures such as Susan B. Anthony, Albert Einstein, Helen Keller, and Booker T. Washington all walked within the walls of the Mission Inn. While Harry Houdini, Raquel Welch and Bob Hope all stopped in for a visit, Bette Davis married boxer William Grant Sherry in the hotel’s chapel on November 30, 1945. But it was the Presidents of the United States that brought us to Riverside. A total of ten Chief Executives had stayed at the Mission Inn, including Benjamin Harrison, William McKinley, Theodore Roosevelt, Herbert Hoover, John Kennedy, Gerald Ford, and George W. Bush. While those seven men stayed or visited there, it was the other three Presidents that sparked our interest. There was a large chair near the Presidential Lounge that William Howard Taft used in 1909; Richard and Pat Nixon were married in the hotel in 1940; and the Reagan’s, Ronald and Nancy, spent the first night of their 1952 honeymoon at the Mission Inn.

Once I was safely stowed-away in the camera bag, Tom and Gary headed for the entrance to the historic inn. Just inside the entrance, we saw an old Spanish bell that Frank Miller had purchased long ago in London. The relic was inscribed with the date 1247 AD and is considered the oldest dated bell in Christendom. While the bell was cool, it wasn’t cool enough for me – it likely wasn’t touched by a President; not that we knew of anyway. In the bowels of the hotel, we found the Presidential Lounge – which was the site where Richard Nixon married Pat Ryan in a small ceremony on June 21, 1940. There was a photo on the wall that showed the newlywed couple as they stood in front of the fireplace, but unfortunately the only fireplace that I saw in the Presidential Lounge didn’t resemble the one in the photo. It turned out that during renovations in the ‘90s, the original fireplace was given a facelift – even though the current hearth didn’t appear to be as ornate as the original. The Presidential Lounge that I stood in was once a two-story suite and the Nixon’s were married near the entrance of that suite. And soon after the Mission Inn was purchased by Miller, President Theodore Roosevelt stayed in that very suite after he had participated in a Navel Orange Tree planting ceremony in the courtyard.

While I posed on the mantel of the fireplace, Presidential love was in the air. Not only did the Nixon’s tie-the-knot in an area just in front of me, Ronald and Nancy Reagan spent the first night of their honeymoon at the Mission Inn. Following their wedding ceremony on March 4, 1952 at the Little Brown Church in Studio City, the couple had dinner and a small reception at best man and fellow actor William Holden’s house. Following the simple party, the newlyweds stopped for the night at the Mission Inn where they stayed in a suite that’s now called the Alhambra Suite. The Reagan’s headed to Phoenix the following day. I would’ve loved to have spent the night in Reagan’s honeymoon suite, but the price tag was a little to rich for my cheap photographer’s blood.

The third and final Presidential site in the Mission Inn was a chair – a very wide chair with raised letters embedded on the top of the chair’s back that read: ‘President Taft’s Chair – Banquet Oct. 12, 1909’. On that historic day when our 27th President visited the Mission Inn, owner Frank Miller wanted the behemoth 350-pound Taft to be comfortable. Miller had a customized chair made for him. Taft hated it and refused to sit in the chair at first; stating: “Did you have to make the chair so large?”. But when he realized that the Inn’s regular chairs might collapse under his weight, ol’ “Big Bill” agreed to use it as long as he was not photographed sitting in it. When Tom placed me onto the vinyl-covered seat of the “Taft Chair”, the mammoth piece of furniture made me look smaller than normal. However, when my larger-than-life photographer sat in Taft’s chair, he looked right at home. It may have marked the first time since he turned forty that Tom didn’t have to butter his hips to sit down.

After Tom, Gary, and I each had our chance to impersonate Taft, the three of us spent roughly twenty minutes on a self-guided tour of the Mission Inn. During that time, we ventured into the beautiful courtyard that also served as a restaurant seating area. As I gazed up at the ornate clock tower and the beautiful floral-covered balconies, it dawned on me that some of the Presidents likely had the same view. As the clock struck 11:00am, Tom placed me back into the camera case and we headed back for the Mustang. Although we had a 1:00pm reservation at Richard Nixon’s Library, my photographer figured we had plenty of time to search out and find a place for lunch in the Yorba Linda area. I nearly fainted when I heard my camera guy say to Gary: “Gary, you know that area better than me. I want you to pick any restaurant you want and it’s my treat for lunch – and don’t worry about the price. I really appreciated your time yesterday and for setting-up the VIP tour of Nixon’s Library today. So where do you want to have lunch?” As our Mustang left the expressway at the Yorba Linda exit, Gary directed him to the place he had wanted to eat – a Carl’s Jr. hamburger place. “I want to eat at Carl Jr’s because they not only have really good food, I once knew Carl Karcher personally – he was the founder of Carl Jr’s.” During lunch, Tom and Gary shared Presidential stories; and the good thing was, neither of the history enthusiasts tried to ‘one-up’ the other. They both seemed to enjoy each other’s company and their shared hobby of visiting historical and Presidential sites. From the restaurant, it was a short three-mile drive up the Richard M. Nixon Freeway and before I knew it, we were parked in the shade outside of Nixon’s Library at 12:45pm – we were fifteen minutes early.

As soon as the three of us stepped foot inside the Richard Nixon Presidential Library and Museum, the entire staff greeted Gary Beard with open arms. He was no doubt a celebrity at the museum and rightfully so. After all, Gary portrays President George Washington at the museum on President’s Day and he brings the ‘General’ to life for thousands of children every year. When the clock struck one o’clock, Don Grime, our docent, arrived and we began our VIP tour. As we walked from one exhibit to another, I quickly felt like a celebrity as well. We saw different eras of Nixon’s Presidency – one that started with the Vietnam War and continued through his five-plus years as the Chief Executive. One question that I had going into the tour was answered – would the museum avoid the controversy of Watergate? It did not. As a matter of fact, I saw one display that featured artifacts used and confiscated from the burglars involved in the scandal.

When we finished the tour of the museum, Don led us outside and down a pathway towards Nixon’s birthplace. As we walked along the Pat Nixon Gardens under the cloudless sky, we saw a tiered garden called the First Lady’s Rose Garden where roses had been named for First Lady’s Pat Nixon, Barbara Bush, Nancy Reagan, Betty Ford and Rosalynn Carter. At the far end of the gardens, we finally arrived at what I had anticipated the entire day – the gravesite of 37th President Richard M. Nixon. For myself, Nixon’s final resting place was the 33rd Presidential grave that I had visited. But for my photographer, the Nixon grave had completed his quest. Over his lifespan, Tom had been to all 38 Presidential gravesites and it was an accomplishment that he was extremely proud of. When my photographer set me on top of the polished black-granite headstone, I immediately felt the heat race up my base, through my body, and into the spring that held my head to my torso. I hadn’t felt heat like that since I stood on Herbert Hoover’s grave in West Branch, Iowa; and due to the fact Nixon’s marker was black, it was hotter than Hoover’s tombstone. Nixon’s three-tiered gravestone was rectangular in shape; measuring roughly 2.5-feet by 3.5-feet and it rose about one-foot above the grass – although the back was higher as the stone’s face was cut at an angle. Due to that angle, I had to stand on the lower and flatter tier, which was okay because I had a good view of the epitaph that was etched onto the stone below Nixon’s name and dates: “The greatest honor history can bestow is the title of peacemaker.” Richard Milhous Nixon had suffered a severe stroke at his home in New Jersey and died four days later, April 22, 1994, at the age of 81. Nixon did not want a state funeral, although his body laid in state at his Presidential Library in Yorba Linda for a day. The 37th President was buried near his wife, who had died the previous year. Both graves were in the shadow of Nixon’s birthplace. The funeral, which was held on April 27, 1994, was attended by five Presidents – Bill Clinton, George H.W. Bush, Ronald Reagan, Jimmy Carter, and Gerald Ford. When I finished posing for a handful of photos at the grave, my photographer knelt alongside Nixon’s marker as Grime snapped a few images with Tom’s camera. When the impromptu photo-op concluded, I heard my photographer say out loud: “Thank you Mr. President for keeping me out of Vietnam.” I was surprised by his sentiment because we had been to 32 other Presidential gravesites together and I had never heard him say anything to the deceased President – except when he taunted James Garfield for removing my head.

It was time to visit the birthplace of Richard M. Nixon; which was a short walk along a pathway from the gravesite. Don waited for an on-going tour to finish before he guided us inside for a private visit at the home where Nixon was born. During our short wait, Tom snapped a few images of me with the exterior of the small home. The 1 ½-story ranch house was built in 1912 from a mail-order construction kit by Frank Nixon (Richard’s father) on farmland owned by the family. The future President was born in the front bedroom the following year. The Nixon’s remained in the house until their citrus farm failed in 1922, which forced Frank to move his family to Whittier. At one point as we waited, I posed near a large pepper tree that had been planted by Frank in 1912; it was one of the only original trees remaining on the property.

It was finally our turn to enter the house, and I was excited to see the birth room. As soon as we walked through the front door, my photographer turned left and carried me past a dining room table to the opened door of the bedroom. The room was small and featured only a regular bed and a dresser. But as ordinary as the bedroom was, history was made there on January 9, 1913 when baby Richard was born. I had hoped that our docent, Don Grime, would insist that I be placed onto the birth bed for photos, but that never happened. I was also surprised that my photographer didn’t ask Don for the favor, but I figured he didn’t ask out of respect for Gary. I was, however, placed on the living room fireplace mantel for a photo, but I was held for the other images captured throughout the birthplace. Besides the birth room, the piece I found most interesting in the house was the Nixon’s upright piano. During his childhood, young Richard practiced on that piano every afternoon and eventually became a accomplished pianist – even though he couldn’t read music. Nixon also learned to play the saxophone, clarinet, accordion, and violin. Since the house was small, our tour lasted about ten minutes – but in that short time, however, I got a first-hand glimpse of Nixon’s first ten years of life.

Don guided us back outside and down a pathway to an area roughly one hundred yards behind Nixon’s birth house. There, situated on a large cement slab, was a VH-3A “Sea King” helicopter that served in the Presidential fleet from 1961 to 1976. Presidents Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon and Ford all flew in that “Army One” chopper at some point. As a matter of fact, Nixon used the helicopter to fly over the Great Pyramids in 1974. It was also his mode of transportation to and from Camp David. Then, on August 9, 1974, Nixon flashed the V-for-Victory salute with both hands at the doorway of that helicopter before lifting off the White House lawn for the final time. The 37th President had just resigned the Presidency; Nixon and his wife had boarded Army One for their short trip to Andrews Air Force Base and their subsequent flight to California. Although for some unknown reason photos were not allowed inside the helicopter, I did pose for a handful of images outside of the aircraft. One of my favorite shots was when I stood on the platform at the chopper’s entry door; which was the exact place where Nixon stood and flashed the ‘Double V’s’. The issue I had was my resin fingers were molded into place and I couldn’t flash anything – except for a wry smile.

It was 3:30pm and the afternoon sun had elevated the temperature into the high 90s. I could tell that the heat had begun to affect Gary as it seemed to take the bounce out of his step. The 83-year-old also stayed in the shade whenever and wherever he could. Ol’ George Washington was happy when we began our hike back to the Library and its air-conditioning. I think my photographer was happy when we got back to the cooler building as well. But for me, the ambient temperature is a non-issue; although I was glad to get back inside as there were two more exhibits for us to visit – exact replicas of the White House’s Cabinet Room and the East Room.

First, Don led us into the Cabinet Room and although it was okay, that room didn’t have the ‘wow’ factor for me. That was likely because other Presidential Libraries had versions of the same room. But when we walked into the East Room, that was a completely different story. No other place in the world, except for the White House, could boast a room that looked like that. As I stood on the fireplace mantel in the facsimile East Room, with the famous full-length portrait of George Washington across the room from me, I had envisioned that I was in the actual White House. As I stood there, it was as though I could hear Richard Nixon as he delivered his farewell speech to his staff on August 9, 1974 moments before he walked out to the South Lawn and into the waiting helicopter.

The Richard Nixon Presidential Library was amazing on its own merits; it was perhaps the second-best Presidential Library I had ever visited. But seeing the artifacts, touring the birthplace, and paying our respects at the President’s gravesite with Gary Beard made it an unforgettable experience for both me and my photographer. As we prepared to leave the museum and head for the car, I was afforded an opportunity to watch Reverend Gary in action. Our friend stood on the Presidential seal in front of the giant mural of Nixon and he began an impromptu lecture about Nixon. As his booming voice, which was filled with passion, bent some tourist’s ears as they entered the museum, I sat silently in my case and just smiled. “That’s not just any history buff. That’s George Washington – the Father of Tustin. And better yet, he’s my friend!”

During the 14-mile drive back to Tustin, I heard my photographer and Gary talking about a lot of smoke they could see off in the distance. It turned out that around 1:15pm, just after we had begun our tour of Nixon’s Library, an arsonist had started a wildfire in Holy Jim Canyon – a remote mountain location situated roughly 25 miles east of Tustin. By the time we dropped Gary off at his home, the plume of smoke from the Holy Fire was very evident in the eastern sky.

My photographer and I arrived at the Currier’s home around 4:15pm; and no one was there. My photographer placed me back onto the shelf and he went to work on his Road Hog NASCAR stats from the previous day’s race. About an hour later, Plumber, Rhonda, and Vicki returned from their excursion to Huntington Beach and the only thing I heard about was a middle-aged guy wearing a Speedo – and my photographer’s wife snapped a picture of him. When I saw the image, a little bit of resin vomit found its way into my closed mouth.

Around 7:30pm, I watched as my photographer, Vicki, Plumber, and Rhonda all headed to dinner at a Mexican place called Don Chepe Super Antojitos. When they returned about two hours later, I heard my companions talk about how good the food was. As my photographer slid into bed, I could hear and smell how good the food was as well. I stood silently on the shelf the entire night thinking about the day I had just spent with Gary “George Washington” Beard. In the five years that I had been travelling around the country visiting Presidential sites, Gary has been one of the top highlights for me. While it’s an honor for me to call Gary a friend, he’s more than that. Gary Beard is a national treasure!