(4 of 10)
Wounded-Bear Yell. Aside from temper, Hagerty tends to overmanage. His eight-member staff exists mostly to do his specific bidding, and on the infrequent occasions when Hagerty is away, things are likely to go wrong. Hagerty was in Paris preparing for the NATO conference when Ike suffered his stroke, and Associate Press Secretary Anne Wheaton, a competent woman who was Hagerty's own choice for the job, had neither the training nor the influence to prevent a memorable press foul-up.
In a place where leaking news to favored reporters was long considered the best way to do business (in Franklin Roosevelt's day, Press Secretary Steve Early could do little but wring his hands at the sight of braintrusters passing secret papers to press pets—a sight as familiar as the White House flagpole), Hagerty discourages contacts between correspondents and other White House sources. His standard reaction upon spying a leaked story in a newspaper is a wounded-bear yell: "Good God! Where do they get it? Where do they get it?"
Hagerty's remarkable success lies far less in his personal than in his professional perfection. And the key to Jim Hagerty is that, despite eight years, which made him a first-rate reporter, for the New York Times, he is not a professional newsman. He works the opposite side of the street. His boss is the President of the U.S. and his duty is to present Ike's words and works in the best possible way. Jim Hagerty, by instinct and training, is a professional presidential press secretary—and as such, he is the first of his kind.
Waves from Wendell. Press Secretary Hagerty's father is a newsman through and through. He is James Andrew Hagerty (the middle names are different, and Jim dislikes having a Jr. hooked on), who left the little Plattsburg (N.Y.) Press for the old New York Herald, went on to the Times, where he became one of the fine political reporters of his day (he retired in 1954). Young Jim went to Columbia (A.B. '34) and followed his father to the Times. He worked the city's political districts and, in 1938, went to the State Capitol in Albany. There he was a big wheel in amateur theatricals, developed a taste for Scotch and soda and an enduring reputation as a two-fisted drinking man in Matt McCaffrey's saloon (because of his ulcers, doctors now advise against soda, but Hagerty cheats for the forthright reason that "I don't like water"). He also earned a reputation as an industrious, thoroughly competent reporter. In 1940 he joined his father in covering Wendell Willkie's presidential campaign.