MUM i ai I I Ml li l HI nil II i Jj( HtWtujdK
Family Weekly
August 23, 1959
EXCLUSIVE
What People Don't Know
About My Son
by Mrs. HANNAH MILHOUS NIXON as toid to peer j. oppenheimer
Here, for the first time in words and family-album pictures,
is an intimate profile of Vice President Richard M. Nixon
as revealed to, Family Weekly by his mother
To the rest of the world he is "Mr. Vice Presi
dent" or "Mr. Nixon" or, if they know him
well, "Dick."
To me, his mother, he has always been "Rich
ard." I chose the name when I read about Richard
the Lion-Hearted. And after he was born, some
how no other name seemed to fit him as well.
I suppose like any mother I live more in the
past than in the present. This seems to be truer
since my husband passed away almost three years
ago.' My oldest and youngest boys, Harold and
Arthur, died a long time ago. Richard of course, is
in Washington, D. C, and Eddie, 28, is in the Navy.
Only Don, who is 45, lives close enough to call on
me regularly.
Richard tries to keep in touch, though.
When he flew to southern California a few
weeks ago to be commencement speaker at Whit
tier College, from which he was graduated, he
drove all the way from Anaheim to Yorba Linda,
just to take me to the East Whittier Friends
Church for Sunday morning service.
Richard is not much of a correspondent. He likes
to read but never cared for writing. Not even in
school. Pat writes some,, to keep me informed of
what is happening in Washington. And so do my
granddaughters, Tricia and Julie.
Richard prefers to telephone. Not often and not
unless it is important. He is very conservative that
way. He knows long-distance calls cost money and
saves them for birthdays, holidays and anniver
' saries. I think he is wise there.
But if something really urgent happens, he al
ways manages to get in touch with me, no matter
where I am or how difficult it may be.
I was terribly worried when he went to South
America last year and I heard the reports of vio
- lence he encountered. I didn't know all that hap
pened because I was visiting a friend in an-iso -
lated part of the mountains, near Redding, Cal.
But it was enough to upset me. And I didn't re
lax till two days after Richard came home, when
I received his long air-mail, special-delivery let
ter written the night he arrived in Washington,
tired from the long flight, the reception at the air
port and the many interviews.
I never appreciated hearing from him more,
except maybe the time Julie was born. Mr. Nixon
and I were living on a farm in Pennsylvania at
the time, near Menges Mills, about 78 miles from
Washington. We had bought the farm shortly after
Richard was elected to his first term in Congress.
JThe nearest phone was at a grocery store about
eight miles away. Knowing how anxious we were
to hear about our new grandchild, Richard called
the store owner from the hospital at 6:30 in the
morning, and asked him to give us the good news.
I will never forget the day he left for overseas
during World War II. Mr. Nixon, Pat, Don, Eddie
and I were all at the Los Angeles railroad station
to see him off. Just before Richard stepped aboard
the train, he turned to Eddie. He put his hand on
his younger brother's shoulder and with deep sin
cerity in his voice said simply, "Eddie, you take
care of your mother."
His concern for people has always been one of
his most outstanding virtues. While stationed in
the South Pacific, he heard that Don had become
the father of a baby girl, Lorene. He promptly
wrote the sweetest letter to the new baby, telling
her how glad he was that she was born, and how
her father was the best-looking of the boys and
the one with the most personality and that her
mother, Clara Jane, was one of the prettiest
women he had ever met.
My sons were very close to one another. Of
course they had their scraps once in a while, but
I don't recall that they ever really hit one another.
Richard was particularly fond of his younger
brother, Eddie, who is now a lieutenant in the
Navy.
I remember when Richard was still practicing
law in Whittier, and I called him one day at the
-office-fter Eddie - hurt his arm playing ball. It
wasn't too serious, but it was painful. Richard
promptly rushed home and insisted on staying up
with Eddie all night.
Another thing that is characteristic about Rich
ard is his intense concentration. When' Richard's
mind is on something he is interested in, it's next
to impossible to get his attention.
When he was a little boy, his main aim in life
was to become a fireman on a train. He would
play "train" with his brothers for hours. They
were supposed to take turns and once in a while
Richard reluctantly agreed to be the conductor,
engineer or passenger. But mostly he was the fire
man and if I called him to eat while he saw him
self shoveling coal, I all but had to grab his arm
before he heard me.
As he crew older, Richard continued to be so
absorbed in thoughts that it shielded him like
a wall from any intrusion. I can still see him visit
ing us when he was a Congressman, working on
the Alger Hiss case. He was in the garden when sup
per was ready. I called him to come into the
house. He walked a few steps toward me, then
stopped. I called him again, and he -came a few
more steps closer. "Richard," I finally cried out.
"Supper is getting cold!"
He looked up. "Mother I know the man is
guilty!"
"And if you don't give up the case for a while,
4
Family Weekly. Augutt 23, 1959