When You’ve Been President—-

What else is there?

It’s the old, “What do you get somebody who has everything?”

Our current president will be our most immediate past-president soon and his lack of interest in giving up control of (1) the office, (2) the country, and (3) the Republican Party has sent us off to find out what ex-presidents for the past century have done after departing the biggest stage in the world.

What we have found is that past-presidents didn’t exactly disappear but many did keep or have kept low profiles. Others remained politically visible although none has tried to maintain power as our current president wants to do.

CALVIN COOLIDGE (1923-1929) succeed Warren G. Harding on Harding’s death.  Coolidge is remembered as “Silent Cal” for his disdain for lengthy public pronouncements. In one of his stage presentations, Will Rogers referred to Coolidge as “a tight chewer and a close spitter.” His announcement, “I do not choose to run for President in 1928” is part of our political tradition. Rutgers University History Professor David Greenberg has written, “He was never one who loved power or fame and was ready to be ‘relieved of the pretensions and delusions of public life.’” He spent his first four years out of office writing his autobiography and in 1931 wrote a nationally syndicated newspaper column. He died January 5, 1933.

HERBERT HOOVER (1929-1933) was only 58 when he left the presidency, the fall guy for the Great Depression. He was wealthy enough that he did not need to work and  historian David Hamilton at the University of Kentucky says, “Few Republicans in the 1930s wanted Hoover involved in party politics because of his negative standing in the popular mind.”  He independently became a strong critic of Roosevelt’s New Deal and considered many of its programs “fascistic.” In 1938 he met Adolph Hitler and let him know in no uncertain terms that he strongly disliked Hitler’s shouting during their private meeting.  He did not favor American intervention in Europe until the attack on Pearl Harbor, at which point he—as did most “America First” figures—changed his mind. Roosevelt appointed him to head an international relief organization for Poland, Finland, and Belgium. He continued working under President Truman on food issues for the war-torn countries and in 1947 became the chairman of a commission to reorganize the executive branch of government. The Hoover Commission as it was called, disappointed Congressional Republicans who hoped it would dismantle FDR’s programs. Instead, the commission strengthened the Executive Branch, laying the groundwork for the modern presidency. He was critical of Truman’s decision to intervene in Korea. Hamilton says he supported a buildup of naval and air power, felt Europeans could do more to defend themselves against the Soviet Union. He supported Ohio Senator Robert Taft for President in 1948 and 1952, Eisenhower in ’56. He wasn’t fond of Richard Nixon and endorsed Barry Goldwater in 1964, shortly before his death at the age of ninety.

HARRY TRUMAN (1945-1953), plain-spoken in the White House, remained plain-spoken in private life. His library in Independence was built with private funds. He enjoyed spending time at his office there and in talking with groups that came for tours, especially school children. After losing the New Hampshire Primary in 1952, he withdrew as a candidate for a full term and pushed for Adlai Stevenson to be his party’s nominee. Stevenson lost to Dwight Eisenhower and lost again in ’56. Truman often criticized Eisenhower policies. Alonzo Hamby, an Ohio University history professor, says he got along better with John Kennedy although he once thought Kennedy was too young and too Catholic to be a successful candidate for the job. Hamby says he was more comfortable with Lyndon Johnson and his antagonistic attitude toward Richard Nixon was often made clear. He died the day after Christmas, 1972.

DWIGHT D. EISENHOWER (1953-1961), who switched his first two names early in life (he was born David Dwight Eisenhower) retired to his farm adjacent to the Gettysburg battlefield. He and Mamie wintered in Indian Wells, California. They travelled. “Ike” remained a World War II icon for thousands of American veterans. Presidents Kennedy and Johnson consulted him.  But he was not aggressively involved in politics—as Truman had been—beyond that.

LYNDON JOHNSON (1963-1969) stunned the nation with his announcement on March 31, 1968 that he would not seek another term as President.  The Vietnam War and the heavy public criticism of his policies led him to announced, “With America’s sons in the fields far away, with America’s future under challenge right here at home, with our hopes and the world’s hopes for peace in the balance every day, I do not believe that I should devote an hour or a day of my time to any personal partisan causes or to any duties other than the awesome duties of this office—the presidency of this country. Accordingly, I shall not seek, and I will not accept, the nomination of my party for another term as your president.” Johnson was not a well man when he left the presidency. He spent his remaining days writing his memoirs, overseeing the development of his presidential library, tending to his investments, and enjoying life at his beloved Texas ranch. He died on January 22, 1973. University of South Carolina historian Kent Germany recalls his death happened one day before the Paris Peace Accords ended the Vietnam War and two days before what would have been his second term had be run and been re-elected.

RICHARD NIXON (1969-1974) was deeply in debt when he resigned in disgrace and returned to California with a lot of unpaid lawyers’ bills. He survived some health problems later that year and regained his financial footing by penning his autobiography and by accepting $600,000 for a series of interviews with David Frost, a British television personality. Researcher Ken Hughes at the University of Virginia’s Miller Center recounts the international community had trouble grasping the seriousness of Watergate, leading to Nixon’s cautious re-entry on the public stage with his 1976 trip to China, where he was warmly received. He made his first public speech to a small group in Kentucky in 1978 and in 1980 moved to New York, then to New Jersey. Nixon became a trusted but non-publicized advisor to later Presidents Carter, Reagan, and George H.W. Bush as a recognized expert on foreign policy. He wrote several books. When he died in 1994, President Clinton eulogized him, “”May the day of judging President Nixon on anything less than his entire life and career come to a close.”

GERALD FORD (1974-1977) seemed to settle into a comfortable retirement in California. He was a frequent lecturer and wrote an autobiography and some other books.  He raised eyebrows as a potential Vice-President for Ronald Reagan, a bid that fizzled when word of it became public. He continued to write extensively and served on various corporate boards.  In 2001 he co-chaired the National Commission on Federal Election Reform. Ford died the day after Christmas, 2006, thirty-four years to the day after the death of Harry Truman.

JIMMY CARTER (1977-1981) is regarded by some as a much better former-president than a president. He returned to his home state of Georgia where he “emerged as a champion of human rights and worked for several charitable causes,” according to Washignton and Lee University Professor of Politics Robert Strong. He founded the Carter Presidential Center at Emory University  which is known for studying matters related to human rights and democracy. His work with Habitat for Humanity is widely known and he has served as an unofficial international ambassador mediating disputes between our State Department and “the most volatile of foreign leaders including Libya’s Muammar Qaddaffi and North Korea’s Kim Il Sung.  He also has written several books. Since 2015 he has been treated for concer of the liver and the brain and has battled other health issues—all the while continuing to teach Sunday School when he can at Atlanta’s Maranatha Baptist Church. Last October first, he became the first past-president to reach his 96th birthday (he was the first to reach 95,too).

RONALD REAGAN (1981-1989), who popularized the so-called “Eleventh Commandment” created by California GOP chairman Gaylord Parkinson, “Thou shalt not speak ill of any fellow Republican,”  a commandment pulverized by his current successor in the White House, retired to live the good life riding his horses on his California ranch, organizing his memoirs, and writing his autobiography until August, 1994 when he issued an open letter to the American people that he had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Toward the end of his letter, he said, “I now begin the journey that will lead me into the sunset of my life. I know that for America there will always be a bright dawn ahead.”  He mostly withdrew from the public eye after that and died almost ten years later, his final years the impetus for millions of dollars in donations for Alzheimer’s research. It was a graceful exit for a former actor.

GEORGE HERBERT WALKER BUSH (1989-1993) enjoyed retirement back in Houston, Texas where he became just another private citizens—as much as a former president can become one. Professor Stephen Knott at the United States Naval War College recalls he sat on various boards, including a Houston hospital board, and was active, with wife Barbara, in their church. They also enjoyed summers at their place in Kennebunkport, Maine. He and Bill Clinton, who defeated in his re-election bid, became close friends when they jointly raised money for tsunami relief in Southeast Asia. He was not active in politics until his two sons became governors of Florida and Texas, with George W. making to the White House as the first son of a former president to hold the office since John Quincy Adams was elected in 1824. He was 94 when he died in 2018, seven months after the death Barbara, his wife of 73 years.

BILL CLINTON (1993-2001) has been one of our most visible ex-presidents as a frequent speaker, political analyst, and founder of the Clinton Presidential Foundation. University of Virginia Professor Russell Riley says the foundation’s agenda “includes combating HIV/AIDS, fostering racial and ethnic reconciliation, and promoting the economic empowerment of poor people.”  It was impossible for him to stay out of the political spotlight although he was not the center of attraction in 2016 when his wife, Hillary, polled more popular votes than Donald Trump but lost in the electoral college.

GEORGE W. BUSH (2001-2009), “Bush 43” as some call him, is comfortably retired, commenting, “I think part of having a fulfilling life is to be challenged. I’m challenged on the golf course, I’m challenged to stay fit, and I’m challenged by my paintings…I am happy.”  He left office with sixty percent of the American people think he was a below-average President and with an approval rating of 33%.  University of Louisville Professor Gary Gregg II says Bush, “no typical politician, he seemed to enjoy the relaxation and time away from power.”  He has, for the most part, stayed away from politics, becoming just another private citizen hosting barbecues at his home and going to local events. He was inspired by one of his heroes, Winston Churchill, to take up painting. He’s gotten some national attention for his portrayals of world leaders he met during his time in the White House and of his pets. Gregg says the George W. Bush Center at Southern Methodist University continues “discussions about the best policies to foster economic growth, human freedom, education, global health, and various women’s initiatives. He is active in charity work such as an annual 62-mile bike ride and a golf tournament that raises money for wounded veterans. He’s also gone to Africa to hike awareness of cervical cancer.

He has stayed aloof from politics and issued a statement after the 2020 election saying in part,     “The fact that so many of our fellow citizens participated in this election is a positive sign of the health of our democracy and a reminder to the world of its strength. No matter how you voted, your vote counted. President Trump has the right to request recounts and pursue legal challenges, and any unresolved issues will be properly adjudicated. The American people can have confidence that this election was fundamentally fair, its integrity will be upheld, and its outcome is clear.”

BARACK OBAMA (2009-2017) left office ranked in one poll as the second-most popular President since World War II (Ronald Reagan was a point higher). Rhodes College Professor Michael Nelson notes a C-SPAN survey of  91 presidential scholars, presidential historians, and political scientists ranked him as the 12th best president in American history (Reagan was 8th).  He and his popular First Lady, Michelle, have written best-selling autobiographies. Both have been highly visible as public speakers with the former president catching flack for taking $400,000 for one speech although Jeff Wallenfeldt writes for the Encyclopedia Britannica that “supporters countered that those high gees contributed to making it possible for Obama to donate some $3 million to job-training programs for low-income residents of the Chicago area.”

As his successor appeared intent on rolling back many programs of the Obama administration policies, Wallenfeldt says, Obama “for the most part honored the unwritten tradition of former presidents refraining from criticism of their successor’s actions” although he did object to some Trump policies. He became more vocal in his criticisms during the 2020 campaign and served as Joe Biden’s wingman in the closing months of the effort to unseat President Trump expressing confidence in “the character and leadership ability” of his former vice-president.

(These preceding assessments are based on writings for the University of Virginia’s Miller Center except for the Wallenfeldt assessment of the post-presidential career of Obama.)

Donald Trump exit from the office will become an addition to a trick trivia question: “How many Presidents did not die in the United States?”  The new answer, for now, will be five—Carter, Clinton, George W. Bush, Obama, and now, Trump.

All of our past presidents have given up power gracefully although several remained outspoken about the course of the nation after their return to civilian life. The nation has been able to move beyond them, allowing a new leader to rise or fall on his own. Whether the nation moves beyond Donald Trump, who believes he can continue to run the country by his own means outside of the Oval Office, is something the nation will have to prove for itself—and can prove for itself if it acknowledges service in its highest office is a gift from its citizens of temporary authority, not a grant of perpetual power.

The great quotation

It is early in the legislative session, early in the work of a new Congress. In a troubled time, it is good to recall one of the great statements of what government must be and what those who serve in it must be.

The single line or the single paragraph that constitutes a memorable and motivating quotation from a prominent figure often is set forth to guide us.   The words sometimes are carved into great stone walls to encourage those who see them or serve under them to eschew pettiness for the sake of noble acts.

So it is with a quotation from English statesman Edmund Burke:

“Your representative owes you, not his industry only, but his judgment; and he betrays you instead of serving you if he sacrifices it to your opinion.”

In today’s politics, loyalty is a word often used and sometimes ill-used.  Loyalty to an individual.  Loyalty to a party.  Loyalty to a specific constituency. Loyalty to personal ambition. Burke challenges those who feel or are pressured to feel a need to be loyal without thought.

The problem with loyalty is that it can limit the ability to do what is right.  It becomes an excuse to excuse. It can breed a fear of consequence that can stifle a motivation to do good. It can turn public service into self-service. At times, it endangers freedom.

The noble quotation can suffer from brevity.  Such might be the case with Burke, who later added:

Parliament is a deliberative Assembly of one Nation, with one Interest, that of the whole; where, not local Purposes, not local Prejudices ought to guide, but the general Good, resulting from the general Reason of the whole.

This is a time when all of us, and particularly those who represent us in our state and national governments, to take to heart what Burke said. All of it.

So we invite you to read this essential part of a speech to the Electors of Bristol on November 3, 1774, upon being elected to represent them in London, and in doing so we hope you gain dimension to his famous remark.  The language is the formal rhetoric of the late 18th Century but therein might be its power and the beauty of his clarity of thought.

Editor Francis Canavan notes in the forward to the book from which this text is taken, “Although he was skeptical of democracy as a form of government for any but small countries (and not optimistic even there), he did believe that government existed for the good of the whole community and must represent the interests of all its people. But…his idea of representation was not the radically democratic one that saw representation as a mere substitute for direct democracy and a representative as a mere agent of the local electorate whose duty it was to carry out its wishes despite his own best judgment… Rather, he argued in his Bristol speech, a representative was to act for the interest of his constituents, to be sure, but as part of a larger national whole, in accordance with the enlightened judgment that could be exercised only at the center of government and in possession of the knowledge available there. If nothing were at issue in politics but the question of whose will should prevail, clearly the will of the electors should. But for Burke, political judgment was a matter of reason: prudent, practical reason.”

It ought to be the happiness and glory of a Representative, to live in the strictest union, the closest correspondence, and the most unreserved communication with his constituents. Their wishes ought to have great weight with him; their opinion high respect; their business unremitted attention. It is his duty to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his satisfactions, to theirs; and, above all, ever, and in all cases, to prefer their interest to his own. But, his unbiassed opinion, his mature judgement, his enlightened conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you; to any man, or to any set of men living. These he does not derive from your pleasure; no, nor from the Law and the Constitution. They are a trust from Providence, for the abuse of which he is deeply answerable. Your Representative owes you, not his industry only, but his judgement; and he betrays, instead of serving you, if he sacrifices it to your opinion. My worthy Colleague says, his Will ought to be subservient to yours. If that be all, the thing is innocent. If Government were a matter of Will upon any side, yours, without question, ought to be superior. But Government and Legislation are matters of reason and judgement, and not of inclination; and, what sort of reason is that, in which the determination precedes the discussion; in which one set of men deliberate, and another decide; and where those who form the conclusion are perhaps three hundred miles distant from those who hear the arguments? To deliver an opinion, is the right of all men; that of Constituents is a weighty and respectable opinion, which a Representative ought always to rejoice to hear; and which he ought always most seriously to consider. But authoritative instructions; Mandates issued, which the Member is bound blindly and implicitly to obey, to vote, and to argue for, though contrary to the clearest conviction of his judgement and conscience; these are things utterly unknown to the laws of this land, and which arise from a fundamental Mistake of the whole order and tenor of our Constitution. Parliament is not a Congress of Ambassadors from different and hostile interests; which interests each must maintain, as an Agent and Advocate, against other Agents and Advocates; but Parliament is a deliberative Assembly of one Nation, with one Interest, that of the whole; where, not local Purposes, not local Prejudices ought to guide, but the general Good, resulting from the general Reason of the whole. You choose a Member indeed; but when you have chosen him, he is not Member of Bristol, but he is a Member of Parliament. If the local Constituent should have an Interest, or should form an hasty Opinion, evidently opposite to the real good of the rest of the Community, the Member for that place ought to be as far, as any other, from any endeavor to give it Effect. I beg pardon for saying so much on this subject. I have been unwillingly drawn into it; but I shall ever use a respectful frankness of communication with you. Your faithful friend, your devoted servant, I shall be to the end of my life: A flatterer you do not wish for. On this point of instructions, however, I think it scarcely possible, we ever can have any sort of difference. Perhaps I may give you too much, rather than too little trouble. From the first hour I was encouraged to court your favor to this happy day of obtaining it, I have never promised you anything, but humble and persevering endeavors to do my duty. The weight of that duty, I confess, makes me tremble; and whoever well considers what it is, of all things in the world will fly from what has the least likeness to a positive and precipitate engagement. To be a good Member of Parliament, is, let me tell you, no easy task; especially at this time, when there is so strong a disposition to run into the perilous extremes of servile compliance, or wild popularity. To unite circumspection with vigor, is absolutely necessary; but it is extremely difficult. We are now Members for a rich commercial City; this City, however, is but a part of a rich commercial Nation, the Interests of which are various, multiform, and intricate. We are Members for that great Nation, which however is itself but part of a great Empire…All these wide-spread Interests must be considered; must be compared; must be reconciled if possible. We are Members for a free Country; and surely we all know, that the machine of a free Constitution is no simple thing; but as intricate and as delicate, as it is valuable.

(This transcript is drawn from  one of the four volumes of Burke’s writings and speeches, particularly: E. J. Payne, Select Works of Edmund Burke; Miscellaneous Writings; Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 1999).

Things seemed so normal then

Remember how normal things seemed the last time we gathered on a chilly Monday on the south front of the Capitol lawn for the inauguration of a new governor?

Eric Greitens, a young Republican populist, riding the wave of the Donald Trump-led populist surge nationally, was sworn in as governor in what he referred to in his opening remarks as “our republic’s most revered ritual: the peaceful transfer of power.”

Greitens, who saw the governorship as one step in his eventual trip to the White House, promised to “be loyal to your needs and priorities—not to those who posture or pay for influence.”

Former sheriff and former senator Mike Parson, days removed from open-heart surgery, surprised some of us by being on the platform, taking the oath as Lieutenant Governor.

Jay Ashcroft, son of a former state auditor, attorney general, governor, and U. S. Senator John Ashcroft (only Mel Carnahan matched him by holding four statewide offices in his career), was sworn in as Secretary of State.

Former Senator Eric Schmitt became the new State Treasurer that day.

And University of Missouri law professor Josh Hawley took over as Attorney General after a campaign in which he vowed he would not use the office as a stepping stone to something higher.

Nobody wore masks that day, four years and two days ago.

Eleven days later, another inauguration saw Donald Trump rise to the Presidency, a surprise to many in the Republican establishment and a frightening possibility in the eyes of many who were not his deepest believers.

How normal things seemed even then—despite the uneasiness many felt about the tenor of the campaigns that put Greitens and Trump in office on those days.

A few months after that bright but chilly January day, Greitens was gone, resigning before he could be impeached after refusing to reveal records of his campaign and ongoing finances, and being dragged through the headlines generated by a sex scandal.

His resignation triggered unprecedented chair-swapping in state government.  Mike Parson moved up to governor and appointed term-limited Senate leader Mike Kehoe as the new Lieutenant Governor, an appointment later ruled legal by the Missouri Supreme Court.

Josh Hawley, forgetting his promise not to use his office as a stepping stone, rode the continuing Trump wave to victory over Claire McCaskill two years later, leading Governor Parson to appoint State Treasurer  Schmitt to replace Hawley in the Attorney General’s Office. The House budget chairman, Scott Fitzpatrick, was appointed to become the new Treasurer.

Only Jay Ashcroft remains where voters put him four years and two days ago.

Today is far different from that day four years ago.

Our capitol has emerged from months in a giant plastic cocoon in which workers cleaned and replaced stone put in place more than a century ago, ended serious water leakage problems, and even restored Ceres, the patron goddess of agriculture, to the top of the dome so she once again welcomes those attending today’s ceremonies.

Mike Parson is being sworn in for a term of his own as governor, bearing the scars of dealing with a pandemic, a state economic collapse it caused, and the pain of the budget cuts he had to make–all in an election year.

Eric Greitens’ wife left him; he reportedly is hoping he can rehabilitate himself to seek public office again, although his thoughts of a presidency might be much dimmer than they were when inauguration day was HIS day full of hope.

Josh Hawley, with his own dreams of White House glory, is under intense criticism from former supporters in the public and present colleagues in Washington for his attempt to capitalize on Donald Trump’s conspiracy theories that have led to one of the most alarming political incidents in our lifetimes.

Donald Trump is isolated and increasingly alone, living the bitter final days in power he fears giving up, the idea of a peaceful transfer of power completely foreign to him.

And today we wear masks, our nation still under siege from a terrible virus that has forced us to withdraw from friends and family.

Oddly enough, a sentence from the inaugural address of Eric Greitens on January 9, 2017 comes to mind.

“This state in the heart of America has proven that the worst in our history can be overcome by the best in our people.”

Let us hope and fervently pray that on that, at least, he will be correct.

 

Stop the Steal—Missouri, 1941

The sordid contemporary events that will forever be a lamentable chapter of American history strongly remind us of a similar lamentable chapter in our own state’s history.

This year is the 80th anniversary of the attempt by majority Democrats to steal the governorship from Republican Forrest Donnell, who had won the governorship by the narrowest margin in state history.  Here is how it went down:

Forrest Donnell, a Sunday-school teacher and lawyer from St. Louis officially defeated one of the pupils in his church class, Lawrence McDaniel, by 3,613 votes. McDaniel was backed by St. Louis Mayor Bernard Dickmann’s political machine that Donnell attacked as a potential successor of the infamous Pendergast Machine of Kansas City, badly weakened because “Boss Tom” had been sent to federal prison for violating tax laws.

Shortly after the election, State Democratic Committee Chairman C. Marion Hulen of Moberly announced the committee would investigate reports of “election irregularities.”  Committeeman Frank H. Lee of Joplin announced he had evidence that McDaniel had actually won by 7,500 votes.

In those days, the Speaker of the House, not the Secretary of State, made the official announcement of winning candidates. The legislature convened on January 8, 1941 but Speaker Morris Osborn made no pronouncements. At a joint session on the tenth, Osborn certified the Democratic candidates for statewide office as winners but refused to certify Donnell.

Traditional inaugural ceremonies on January 13th were cancelled.  Lt. Governor Frank Harris took his oath for a third term in the Missouri Senate, where the Lt. Governor is the chamber President.  The other statewide office holders took their oaths at the Supreme Court.  Donnell refused to be sworn by a Justice of the Peace and, instead, asked the court to order Osborn to declare him the winner. A second lawsuit asked the court to forbid a legislative committee from starting a recount.

Two days later, an angry Stark to a joint legislative session,

Your every thought and every effort should be to prove to the people of this great commonwealth that their faith in democracy is not misplaced, that democracy does and will work in Missouri. Nothing should be done at any time to shake the faith of our people in their democratic form of government. In these perilous times, it is doubly necessary that every public official in the state and in the nation should lean backward in an effort to serve the people strictly according to the constitution and the laws of the land without partisan bias and with only the welfare and the safety of our democratic form of government in mind.

Democrats started a recount anyway.  February was half-gone when the Supreme Court ordered Osborn, under the Constitution, to declare Donnell elected, allowing McDaniel to file a notice contesting the election, triggering a legal recount.  The Joplin Globe editorialized, “Larry McDaniel has at once forfeited the moral support of thousands of Democrats who from the first have been nauseated from the stench from the original office-stealing effort.”

Donnell (left) finally was sworn in on February 26, much to the delight of Lloyd Stark who said he was tired of “living out of a suitcase” while his fellow Democrats tried to overturn the election.

McDaniel’s 226-page contest petition was filed March 4, citing fraud, erroneous tabulations, irregularities, and vote-buying in 56 counties. He claimed that a complete would show that 24,263 votes cast for him were “wrongfully rejected” by election officials and that he was the real winner—by 30,000 votes.  Donnell’s 50,000-word response filed about three weeks later threw McDaniel’s claims back at him claiming problems in 91 counties such as irregular registrations, voting by minors, non-residents, and wards of the government. He claimed he should have an additional 9,000 votes.

The recount started in mid-April and by May had turned into a disaster for McDaniel.  Checked returns from St. Louis City and 81 counties had inflated Donnell’s victory margin by four-thousand votes.  A new joint legislative session was called after McDaniel had arranged for hastily-drawn letters withdrawing his contest. He said he had become convinced that reports by his party leaders and others that there had been massive fraud were “greatly exaggerated” and that he was convinced “beyond question of doubt” that Donnell had been elected. Because the recount was never completed, Donnell’s victory margin remains in our history books and in the official record as 3,613 votes, the second-closest race for governor in state history (Frederick Gardner defeated Henry Lamm by 2,263 votes in 1917).

Forrest Donnell was elected to the U. S. Senate, succeeding Democrat Harry Truman.  He served until 1951 and returned to St. Louis and his law practice. He was the last Republican Governor until Christopher Bond took office in 1973.  Donnell, then 88 years old, attended Bond’s inauguration and took part in the celebration late into the night.  He died in 1980 at the age of 95.

Democrats paid a price for their 1941 shenanigans.  Republicans took control of the House in the 1942 elections by a large margin.

One of the other casualties was St. Louis Mayor Bernard Dickmann who was heavily criticized by winner William Becker for trying to use the election contest of 1941 to establish St. Louis machine control of state government.

A new constitution drafted during Donnell’s term in office took away the power of the Speaker of the House to declare election winners and placed it in the hands of the Secretary of State, the top Missouri elections official, where it resides to this day.

(Photo credit):  Bob Priddy Collection

 

What There Is To Christmas

(Christmas week is much different this year, with many traditional family events cancelled, many gifts and decorations remaining unbought because of their unaffordability in these uncertain economic times, and sorrows because of those who have not survived the pandemic to be part of our celebrations—-we could continue, but all of us recognize this Christmas is different more than it is special.  Dr. Frank Crane reminds us, however, of a universal and unchanging message—-)

CHRISTMAS MEANS THE INDESTRUCTIBILITY OF JOY

Christmas is the protest of the human race against gloom.

The one thing time nor force can suppress is instinct.

In days past religion tried to stamp out earthly gladness, play, fun, the joy of man and maid. As well one might endeavor to dam the waters of the Mississippi.

When we have clamped human nature down with our reasonings and revelations, along comes    instinct, and to use the words of Bennet, blandly remarks :

“Don’t pester Me with Right and Wrong. I am Right and Wrong. I shall suit my own                     convenience, and no one but Nature (with a big, big N) shall talk to me!”

In the fourth century the Christian world was pretty dismal. This world was considered a             dreadful place, to get away from as soon as possible. Consequently, the boys and girls were lured off into heathen sports, for the heathen alone raced and danced and frolicked.

Then the Church established the Christmas festival, which was one of her wisest strokes of policy.

In 342 A. D. the good Bishop Tiberius preached the first Christmas sermon, in Rome.

Into this opening poured the play instinct of the world.

The time of the winter solstice strangely enough had been the jovial period of the year                 everywhere. Then the Swedes of old used to light fires on the hills in honor of Mother Friga,       goddess of Love. Then the Romans indulged in their Satur nalia, the one carnival of democracy  and equality during the twelve months of tyranny and slavery. Then the Greeks lit torches upon Helicon in praise of Dionysius. In Egypt at this period the populace bore palms for the god        Horus; in Persia they celebrated the birth of Mithras, and the Hindus in India sang their songs to Vishnu.

Many of these festivals had become very corrupt. Excess and license darkened the hour of national joy.

The wisest thing Christians ever did was to turn this feast day over to the child.

The child Jesus stands for the childhood of the world, perpetual, evergreen, inexhaustible.

It’s a weary world to those who have lived wrong or too long, but to those who remain healthy in their tastes it’s a wonderful world, full of undying youth, running with sap, recurrent with primal joy.

Christmas means the supreme fact about life, namely: that it is joyful.

In the opinion of many the greatest music ever composed is Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. As a climax for his orchestral composition the master chose a chorus to sing Schiller’s “Hymn to Joy.”

Christmas means that when this world and all its purposes and deeds are wound up, and the last men and women stand at the end of time and contemplate the complete story of humanity, they will not wail nor hang their heads, but they will shout and exult.

The truest, most everlasting element of mankind is play, accompanied with laughter.

(This article is from Dr. Crane’s 1915 book, Christmas and The Year Round, which can be found at https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=loc.ark:/13960/t3vt2h96j&view=plaintext&seq=7)

A seldom-told story of the end of WWII

This year has been the 75th anniversary of the end of World War II.  We’ve see a lot of publications about the anniversary, including V-J day, Victory over Japan day.  We have yet to see one that tells you the story we are about to tell you.

Most of us probably have seen photographs of General MacArthur signing the peace treaty with Japan in ceremonies on the deck of the USS Missouri.

But few of us probably have seen these pictures:

A few weeks ago my long-time friend, Hugh David Waggoner, called to see if I would be interested in an old trunk full of pictures from World War II that had belonged to a man named R. Sheldon Gentry (his first name was Rusaw, which might explain why he used “R” so he wouldn’t have to explain or repeat “Rusaw.”)  The name rang a faint bell with me but I have not been able to pin down who he was.

The pictures you see above are from the trunk.  The photographs and some 70-plus years old newspaper clippings tell the story behind the famous pictures of the surrender on the Missouri.  This story from that trunk is a story not often told, one I had not heard. So we’re going to tell it today because we doubt many of you have heard it, either.

One of the people in the third picture above is of extremely special interest because without him the war might have gone on longer than it did with consequences of immensely tragic proportions beyond the tragedies that had been occurring since Japan invaded China in 1931, the real beginning of the war.

A word, first, about Gentry, who went into the Army as a Second Lieutenant and came out a Major. He was a decorated photo intelligence officer who wound up with two Presidential Citations and two Legions of Merit among his medals because of his expertise in advising bomber crews about their targets. In fact, he went on several missions and helped guide crews to their targets in the southwest Pacific Theatre as the allies closed the noose around Japan.

Three days after the second Atomic Bomb was dropped, Gentry was in an American bomber fifty feet over Nagasaki assessing the damage.  A few days after that, Japan accepted the surrender terms laid down at the Potsdam Conference by the United States, Britain, and the Soviet Union. The notification was announced on August 15 by President Truman, the same day the Emperor dramatically announced to his nation that he had ordered all Japanese military forces to stop fighting. It also was the day General McArthur was designated the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers.

MacArthur immediately ordered the Japanese Imperial Government to send envoys to Manila on the 17th to put the surrender into effect. The delegation was to travel from Japan in a white airplane with green crosses on the fuselage and wings to the island of Ieshima where they would transfer to an American plane that would take them to Manila. The Japanese were granted some extra time to make preparations for the flight—painting an airplane, for example.  On the morning of August 19, the sixteen-member delegation boarded two re-painted Mitsubishi G4M “Betty” bombers and flew to IeShima (the Japanese called it IeJima or Iye Jima), an island in the Okinawa Prefecture.

The Betty was the main bomber used by Japan, often as a torpedo bomber—as it was at Pearl Harbor. It was fast, 265 mph, could fly 3,250 miles. One of its most notable accomplishments was the shocking sinking of the British battleships, Prince of Wales and Repulse during the earliest days of the war, the first battleships sunk in a wartime air attack. But the plane had no armor and no self-sealing fuel tanks, making it vulnerable to a few well-placed shots.  Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, the commander of the Japanese Navy at Pearl Harbor and Midway, was sought out and shot down in a Betty over Bougainville in 1943.

But that’s straying from our story.

The pictures at the top of this entry were in Gentry’s trunk.  They show the two disarmed Betty bombers, as the Americans called them—Americans gave male names to Japanese fighter planes and female names to the bombers—being escorted by two Army Air Force B-25s.  The second pictures shows one of them landing.

The delegation was met by American officers who escorted them to one of our C-54s for the flight to Manila.   Notice, in the third picture, the man in the white suit, in the center, wearing glasses. He was the only civilian among the seven men who sat at the negotiating table in Manila, across from seven American military representatives who worked out the final agreement in two sessions the evening of the 19th and the morning of the 20th.

In the trunk is the first teletype message that negotiations for Japanese surrender had been completed and Japanese negotiators would arrive later on the 20th in Tokyo.

But things almost did not turn out well.

The man in the white suit at the negotiations was Katsuo Okazaki, a 5,000 meter runner at the Paris Olympics of 1924.  Although MacArthur’s directive was for negotiators only from the Army and the Navy, the Japanese government decided to have a representative of its own with the group and selected Okazaki, the former second secretary of the Japanese Embassy in Washington and then the director of the research bureau of the foreign office.

The surrender flight to Ie Jima had been a nervous trip for those aboard the two bombers. “At that time the Kamikaze corps was still strong.  We had to make our preparations in secret lest the Kamikazes attack us on the way.  It took longer than we expected…

“We flew from Kisarazu airbase,” he recalled in a late 1947 interview with Ray Falk of the North American Newspaper Alliance. “A little after noon we were off Kyushu, Japan’s southernmost island, where we were met by American planes. We had been given the call signal, ’Bataan.’”

(The Battle of Bataan in the Japanese Philippine campaign of 1942 ended with a 65-mile forced march of 75,000 captured American and Filipino troops to concentration camps. The march was infamous for the brutality of the Japanese, who beat bayonetted the starved and weak prisoners who were too weak to walk. Thousands of them died on the march or in the camps.)

“When we called, ‘Bataan! Bataan!’ the American pilots answered, ‘Yes, we are Bataan’s watchdog—follow us…’”

The group returned to IeShima after the Manila conference to find one of their planes was undergoing repairs and split up, with half of the group going back to Japan and the other half waiting to fly back later.

“Half an hour before our expected landing time in Japan, the pilot came back and said, ‘I am sorry but we found our gasoline tank is leaking, and we have very little gas left.’ We were flying over water. We didn’t know whether we could reach land. We knew the bomber would not float more than one or two minutes.  Come what may, I was entrusted with all the documents.”

“Fifteen minutes later, the plane crashed, and I made a compete somersault. A second crash and another tumble followed.  I was ready to jump out when the pilot came back and said, ‘Please remain calm and swim ashore.’  We had landed in shallow coastal water.”

The pilot had managed to land the plane near a beach at Hamamatsu, about 285 miles south of Tokyo.

Okazaki went into the water and swam ashore, holding the vital documents above his head. “We couldn’t see where we were for it was so dark,” he continued. “Eventually a full moon rose and we went ashore. Two fishermen from Hamamatsu helped us to get to the Hamamatsu airbase.  The villagers had been reluctant to help us when they saw the plane crash because they thought I was a B-29. We were lucky not to have been attacked as enemies.

“Anyway, we reached Prime Minister Prince Higashi Kuni’s office at 9 o’clock the following morning, only seven hours late.  The cabinet had waited for us all night.

“I can’t imagine what would have happened if I had drowned. General headquarters already was mistrusting us because we were two days late in getting to Manila. What measures the allied armies might have taken are pure conjecture. But they would have been unpleasant. It might have caused the war to continue in view of the fact that our party had to escape from the anti-surrender Kamikaze corps which wanted to continue the war.”

There might have been conjecture on Okazaki’s part in 1947 but there was no conjecture on the part of the allies of 1945 who already had been planning one of the largest amphibious operations in history, Operation Downfall, to start in November.  The second phase would have been launched in early ’46 near Tokyo. Japan knew the invasions were coming but hoped the cost to the allies would be so great that the war would end with an armistice, not a defeat.

The forecasts for casualties varied widely. One estimate from Secretary of War Henry Stimson forecast 400,000 to 800,000 fatalities and as many as four-million total casualties, not counting the 100,000 allied prisoners of war who were to be executed if Japan was invaded.

But for Russia’s late-war invasion from the north and the incineration of Hiroshima and Nagasaki with threats of more such attacks—and a swimmer named Katzuo Okazaki—history might have been a great deal more “unpleasant” as Okazaki put it in 1947.

The first advance party of American soldiers arrived in Japan on August 26 with greater numbers arriving two days later, with the surrender ceremonies taking place on an American battleship in Tokyo Bay September 2. Okazaki was part of the Japanese delegation on the Missouri that day.

And what became of him?

The man in the white suit was elected to the Japanese House of Representatives in 1949. Two years later, Prime Minister Shigeru Yoshida name him Chief Cabinet Secretary and state minister without portfolio. He became Foreign Minister in 1952 and during his three years in that office, signed a Mutual Security Assistance Agreement with American Ambassador John Allison. He retired but was called back to service to be Japan’s delegate to the United Nations from April, 1961 to July, 1963.  He died two years later at the age of 68.

And the Betty bomber, the Mitsubishi G4M1 that carried Okazaki and the others on those historic surrender flights? The Japanese called it the Hamaki, meaning “cigar,” a reference to its shape. Wrecked remains of hundreds of them are scattered throughout Southeast Asia and in the Southwest Pacific. The Smithsonian Air & Space Museum has pieces of one it is slowly restoring. A wrecked one is on display at an air museum in Chino, California.  Two years ago Warbird Digest reported two of the bombers had been recovered from the Solomon Islands for possible restoration. There are no flyable Bettys in existence.

There are more stories in that old trunk, It now resides at the Museum of Missouri Military History at the Ike Skelton Training Center near Jefferson City. We might tell more about Gentry in some later entry.  We haven’t learned much about his post-war years, but his trunk sure has some interesting things about that part of his life and the war he saw and helped fight. Now his trunk and the stories in it are at a place where they will be cared for and appreciated.

 

The Staples Lesson

A lot of time and space is being chewed up in the media—including here—about our president’s desire to dominate the Republican Party after he leaves office.  We’ve heard, read, and seen a number of questions about why the GOP, by and large, refuses to acknowledge that the president lost on November 3.  One answer we have NOT heard suggested was explained in the Missouri Senate during the September veto session of 2002 by Danny Staples.

Senator Staples ran a canoe-rental business in Eminence, in country of Ozark Mountains, National Forests, and Scenic Riverways.  He might have been the greatest storyteller in the history of the Missouri Senate—certainly I never heard anybody better in four decades of statehouse coverage.  Some of his stories were tinged with truth.

When things got pretty testy, Staples often would get up and go off on a long, windy discussion of life in Shannon County’s Horse Hollow, his baseball career, his adventures with his horse Trixie, how he was related (by marriage) to Lady Godiva, defending cockfighting, or the days when he hauled cars from New Orleans to Omaha or something else. When Danny Staples was forced out by term limits, the Senate lost about 80% of its sense of humor.

But getting back to today’s situation in Washington, where it seems all sense of tension-relieving humor left the Capitol long ago.

For those worried about the Republicans in Congress who don’t dare speak even slightly ill of our president, we turn to a story told by Danny Staples in his farewell remarks to the Senate eighteen years ago.  Your reporter had the foresight to turn on his tape recorder to capture many Staples stories and has transcribed most of those recordings. Here’s part of his last speech to the Missouri Senate:

“…This is the greatest place in the world to try to make a living.  Sometimes the food is free.  Sometimes the beverages are free.  But I can tell you now…that I had to come up here two weeks ago on constituent services business and I went over to the Deville Hotel.  There was 18 lobbyists sitting there eating and drinking. And I’m term limited out. They know I can’t ever vote again.  And I set over in the corner, all by myself like an orphan boy at a picnic, bought my own Bud Lite and bought my own steak dinner.”

Danny died seventeen years ago, a little more than seven months after leaving the Senate.

The Deville Hotel has a different name. It no longer is a hangout for lobbyists around a restaurant table because it doesn’t have a restaurant anymore. And the Senate doesn’t have Danny Staples.

Nor does the Senate, or the House, in Washington have anyone who can step in when things get too self-important and tense, and cool things down the way Danny Staples did in the Missouri Senate.  And man-oh-man do they ever need it.

As far as why Republicans in Washington—or even the Republican candidate for the Senate in Georgia—continue to parrot Trumpian hogwash that the election was stolen from him, the answer might become more clear on January 6, 2021.

That’s the day after the two U. S. Senate elections in Georgia.  After that, our president will be considerably weaker because there will be nobody over whom he can threaten harm. Disparaging remarks on Twitter will mean far less because all elections have been decided. The control of the Senate has been determined. While he still might bark loudly, most of his harmful teeth will be gone—for at least two years. And with the passage of time (and the potential for legal difficulties that might mean more than another four-year term), his bite will be even less fearful.

Walking into a room of the powerful when you are in no position to help them or to seriously harm them will be a far different experience for our president from the days when he could walk into a room or into a Tweet before that senate election and hurt somebody.

As of January 6, it might be the president who “sets over in the corner like an orphan boy” because the people he will leave behind in the House and the Senate will have a much reduced reason to deal with him.

As far as being “relevant” within the party or whether a Trump will lead the national GOP: other people will be making a lot of decisions once our president no longer has the cover of his office to protect him and those decisions have the potential to make some decisions for the party regardless of the number of true believers the president now has when he has the power to do something for them. Sooner or later the party might recognize a need to move on and the path might be clearer when there is no sitting president blocking the view.

Regardless, both parties and   both houses of the Congress still badly need somebody such as Danny Staples to tell them to quit taking themselves so seriously that they lose sight of the broad public that believed it was electing them to serve in its interests.

 

 

Playbook

We offer this observation from a book called “My Fight,” an autobiography written in 1925 by a German World War One veteran who refused to acknowledge his country’s leadership had lost the war and who was  looking for someone else to blame.  This is a 1939 translation by Irish writer and translator James Murphy. You may draw from it anything you wish, or nothing at all.

…It remained for the Jews, with their unqualified capacity for falsehood, and their fighting comrades, the Marxists, to impute responsibility for the downfall precisely to the man who alone had shown a superhuman will and energy in his effort to prevent the catastrophe which he had foreseen and to save the nation from that hour of complete overthrow and shame. By placing responsibility for the loss of the world war on the shoulders of Ludendorff they took away the weapon of moral right from the only adversary dangerous enough to be likely to succeed in bringing the betrayers of the Fatherland to Justice.

All this was inspired by the principle—which is quite true within itself—that in the big lie there is always a certain force of credibility; because the broad masses of a nation are always more easily corrupted in the deeper strata of their emotional nature than consciously or voluntarily; and thus in the primitive simplicity of their minds they more readily fall victims to the big lie than the small lie, since they themselves often tell small lies in little matters but would be ashamed to resort to large-scale falsehoods.

It would never come into their heads to fabricate colossal untruths, and they would not believe that others could have the impudence to distort the truth so infamously. Even though the facts which prove this to be so may be brought clearly to their minds, they will still doubt and waver and will continue to think that there may be some other explanation. For the grossly impudent lie always leaves traces behind it, even after it has been nailed down, a fact which is known to all expert liars in this world and to all who conspire together in the art of lying.

“My Fight” in German is Mein Kampf. The description of “The Big Lie” has been widely attributed to Hermann Goering, the information minister for Adolph Hitler.  But no attributable source has been found for Goering. But it is attributable to his boss, in this book.

A further discussion of the author of this technique can be found in A Psychoanalysis of Adolph Hitler, His Life and Legend  that was compiled for the Office of Strategic Services during World War Two. (The OSS morphed into the CIA after the war.)

https://www.cia.gov/library/readingroom/docs/CIA-RDP78-02646R000600240001-5.

Again, we offer this material without comment.  Make of it what you will.

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Poster Child

Three weeks ago in this space, I argued that we should give our president some slack so he could protest perceived shortcomings in the November 3 election.  But enough is now more than enough. The final straw came last Sunday with his interview with Maria Bartiromo on FOX.

His seemingly unending and increasingly bizarre and wild claims that the election was stolen from him, his efforts to hamper his successor’s transition to the presidency, his ongoing lack of concern about the thousands of his fellow citizens who are falling ill and losing their lives at increasing rates, and his seeming (though perhaps intentional) appearance of ignorance of how elections and the courts work have exceeded the tolerance of many who were willing to give him one final chance to grow up.

I am out of patience.

Quite early in my career as a reporter, I determined there were two qualities in public figures that I would not tolerate.

I would not tolerate rudeness.

I would not tolerate liars.

Our incumbent president pegs the needle on both counts.

I pity the man.  I’ll tell you why later.

Every day, our president justifies his role as a poster child for the worst qualities anyone in elective office can have. He is toxic to the American system.  And as long as members of his political party refuse to stand up for their roles in the American system of checks and balances, he will spread his blot upon the office of President of the United States.

I take a risk in writing these words for there are issues and causes in which I believe that will need support of members of his party—and I know these words might create hurdles that are not needed to accomplish some goals.  But there are times when tolerance reaches its limits. These comments are sure to arouse the tempers of those who believe Donald Trump is our country’s greatest president.  None of them, however, believe it more than he does. To be honest, Mr. Trump was my seventh-favorite candidate in a field of two in 2016.  Hillary Clinton was my fourth-favorite candidate in the field of two—and I don’t remember who ranked above them nor do I care anymore. Those who found Mr. Trump number one by far are free, as always, to leave comments in the box below these remarks. But I urge them to follow the guidelines if they expect to see them attached to the entry. I respect differing opinions but I respect them more if they are courteously presented and are more than echoes of his unfounded assertions.

History sometimes offers a cleansing perspective to events and people who are despised in their own time.  But it is difficult for those who find Mr. Trump reprehensible as a person and as a politician to anticipate a time when that might happen for him. Despite his self-proclamations of greatness, he seems during these years when his massive character flaws have been flaunted likely to be listed among the worst presidents in our national history.

I am afraid his positive accomplishments in office have been obscured by his own behavior and his own personality, by his lies and his rudeness.

He has shown manifold instances of believing the Congress is unnecessary and of believing that the Supreme Court is his to command.

He respects no one but himself and is quick to turn on those he has praised when they speak truthfully to him the first time. He shows little or no respect for the political party he claims to represent or for those within the party who place truth and service above loyalty to him. His attacks on Republican election officials and his firing of a lifelong Republican who headed the Homeland Security Cybersecurity program—who had the temerity to say this year’s elections were the most secure in history—are so clearly antagonistic toward the party that it is hard to accept that the party leadership can remain so acquiescent.

He’s a manipulator, an intimidator and with his run for the presidency and his securing that job, he has stood upon his own pedestal to proclaim greatness. He has walked on and over people to get where he is and has left no significant record of ever helping someone else up.

He lies.  If he were say to me, “Good morning,” I would not believe it.

He has no class.  No dignity.  He is not a man who brings out the best in us.  He doesn’t even try.  Everything is about him.

I wonder how many of the thousands who have gathered at his rallies want their children to grow up to be like him.

His behavior has been such that a record number of people voted on November 3 against him and his truculent behavior since bespeaks his lack of respect for the greatest symbol that our country can show the world—free and fair elections and peaceful transfers of power.   He seems incapable of understanding that his looney conspiracy theories are so outlandish that his own judicial appointees have found them embarrassing.

He knows he is the one thing he fears most.  He is a loser.

He believes in power over others, selective recognition of rights, and the idea that he might lose that power frightens him. He wants to remain “relevant,” meaning he wants to continue intimidating the timid souls in his own political party who only enable him to speak and behave outlandishly because they are afraid.

Instead of worrying about the minority that pledges undying support to him, the leaders of his party should turn away and seek an identity that draws a new constituency that makes ideals a goal rather than a constituency that idolizes a figure who cares not about his followers except in terms of their numbers. It is the party that must remain relevant and if the penalty for doing so is loss of control for a time, so be it. Relevance to a changing nation will pay off eventually. Obeisance is temporal but weakening.

Despite these harsh words, I pity him.

He is a man who grew up in a world of concrete, steel, tall buildings, wealth and privilege, in which money could replace apologies and in doing so encouraged unapologetic behavior.  He was never a Boy Scout. His military service consisted of being sent to a military school as a young teenager where he rose to the rank of captain of cadets until he was replaced. His version of why he was replaced differs from the recollections of other cadets whose recollections indicate he was not the team player or leader he should have been, which is no surprise to those who witness him today. There is no record that I have seen that he was ever been on a nature hike, never visited a national park to appreciate beauty outside the harsh scenery of tall buildings, never placed value in anything growing naturally.  He participated in few team sports—although he once claimed to have been the best baseball player in the state, he never made the varsity team at either of his colleges although he was on the Squash team at one of them. He has a car collection but it is unlikely you’ll find the kinds of Chevrolets, Fords, Dodges and Plymouths that are part of our lives. It is unlikely he ever mowed the family yard or raked the leaves after enjoying the colors they brought to the change of seasons.  He sees people such as us as pawns in his political games, playable pieces that have no meaning other than the ways he can move them to his benefit. He doesn’t appreciate people such as us because he has never shared any of our real-world joys, pleasures, responsibilities, and challenges.

As angry as I have become with his behavior, I feel pity for someone who has never truly had a chance to live outside of himself, to be one of the people he uses.

But pity does not generate tolerance.  He’s not the kind of person I would want as a neighbor.  We have neighbors who voted for him, probably, but we appreciate them more than he does.  He would never be invited onto my front porch for a quiet conversation over Cokes.

He wants to keep control of the Republican Party after he leaves the White House.  But the nation is changing and he cannot stop it.  It would be wise of his party to embrace the changes but it can only do so if it breaks his grip and becomes once again a party of Republicans rather than a party of someone who only claims to be one.

The success of down-ballot candidates of the party indicates many believe it is a viable part of our political system.  The results that show confidence below the top surely must be the guide that cannot be ignored when the party determines its  soul going forward.

And the winner—

(Your faithful observer confesses to being less observant than he thought he was, as at least three of you faithful consumers have been good enough to remind me.  For those who don’t or won’t in the future know about that to which I refer, go on with your lives. For those who do, please note that I have made the slight correction you suggest, with thanks.  But Mr. Biden is still P45.)

—won’t be known until January 6, 2021, two weeks before inauguration day.

Not officially, anyway.

We think we’ll know.  The networks will think they know.  The print reporters and the pundits will think they know. But they won’t be correct until January 6.

Officially.

Before we launch into an explanation of those statements, we want to say two things.

First: Joseph Biden will NOT be the 46th President of the United States.  He will be the 45th.  He will lead the 46th presidential administration but he will be the 45th president.  Grover Cleveland screwed up the numbering system when he served two non-consecutive terms and somebody decided he would be the 22nd and 24th President.  He was not two people. But he did lead two administrations.   It’s a small thing. But there are those who get really irritated with the lack of clarity in describing Mr. Biden as our 46th president. If should be apparent who one of them is.

(On Monday, we heard Governor Parson talk briefly about what an honor it is to be Missouri’s 57th governor and to realize how small the group is of men who have led the state in its 200 years.  Actually, the group is more exclusive than that.  He’s our 55th Governor, serving the 57th administration.  Phil Donnelly was 41 and 43 and Christopher Bond was 47 and 49 in terms of state administrations. So Governor Parson is one of only 55.)

Second and more important to today’s discussion: Our county election officials and the hundreds of volunteers who filled various roles on election day—for pitifully little pay—did something remarkable two weeks ago. Not just in Missouri.  Nationwide. With all of the concern about trouble from poll watchers, concerns that the number of voters would overwhelm the system, that the pandemic added hostile and confusing elements, and with the U. S. Postal Service set up to be a fall guy if some absentee or mail-on ballots didn’t get counted, election day happened without noticeable problems beyond the usual ones.  Election days are never easy days for those responsible for administering them.  But November, 2020 should be remembered because our election authorities stayed focused on their jobs and their responsibilities and did a highly-praiseworthy job. Thank Heavens our state went Republican. Otherwise those good folks would be living with unreasonable accusations and insults they do not deserve.

Now, on with our explanation of why we won’t have an official winner until the first week of the new year.

A week ago today we went to bed and we woke up and we didn’t know who would take the oath of office in Washington on January 20, 2021.

There’s a lot about this process of picking a president that we have forgotten about—if we ever knew it.

First, there’s this reminder. You and I were not electing a president two weeks ago.  We were indicating a preference for a president. We were deciding which party’s electors would elect a president.  Missouri Democrats and Republicans each select ten electors, one for each of our members of congress plus two because we have two Senators.  Our system says the person who finishes ahead in the popular vote in Missouri gets all ten of our electors. The electors then vote for the president.  In 2016, Donald Trump won Missouri 10-0.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.  Our friend Phill Brooks, who started covering the Capitol about the same time your obedient servant did and writes a weekly political column about Missouri politics, said in a recent column, “the results reported on election night are neither official nor complete.”

Those of us who enjoy reporting the numbers on election night like to think they are, but Phill is correct. Mail-in and absentee ballots are counted after election day if they are postmarked by election day.  That’s why the numbers from the November 3 election were not certified by local election authorities on the spot.

But those are not the official numbers.

“The state law gives the state Board of Canvassers several more weeks before announcing the official state results based on those local reports,” Phill wrote. It is during this time that required recounts in local elections take place and protests or lawsuits are filed.  Once all of that is resolved and canvassers certify no problems with the count, a determination is made about which electoral college panel gets some work to do while the others go home.

The Missouri electoral college delegates will not meet until December 14.  Our ten D or R delegates will give all ten of Missouri’s real determining votes to the state winner, meaning Donald Trump will carry Missouri again 10-0.

But the winner is not determined then, either.

Congress collects all of the Electoral College reports and will hold a joint session on January 6. It will count the electoral votes and declare the person who got 270 or more electoral votes the winner of the big chair in the oval office.  Two weeks later that person will be inaugurated.

That’s how it works. We voted November 3 to pick someone from our district to represent all of the winner’s voters. That person will present all ten of our votes to one candidate.

And then it’s official.

The Secretary of State reports Donald Trump got 1,711,848 votes in Missouri last week. But actually, he got 10.  Joe Biden got 1,242,851.  Actually, he got none.  But thank you, 1,242,851 Missourians for taking part.

One other thing to mention.  Missouri saw 3,012,436 votes cast for president. The total number of votes cast (because some people did not vote for president but voted for other candidates or issues) is going to be more than that. But the number of votes for president was almost 200,000 more ballots that were cast in the 2016 election.