It is hardly a secret that President Johnson likes Texans—and has imported a fair number of them to work in Washington. Yet the Texan that Lyndon probably likes best of them all is one he has left behind. He is A. W. (for Albert Wadel) Moursund, 45, who lives in a modest ranch house in the hills of central Texas, works out of a small brick building off Johnson City's courthouse square, has a passion for anonymity, and insists to inquiring newsmen that "I don't give interviews. I just practice law, that's about all."
Moursund practices more than a little law: he is recognized as a highly respected authority on the law of real property in a state where such expertise counts heavily. He is also the principal trustee of all the Johnsons' land, cattle, municipal bonds, radio and television holdings. Elected Blanco County judge, a largely administrative post, in the mid-'50s, he quit politics after five years, but still is known as "the Judge" around Johnson City.
Through Prickly Pear. Moursund is an all-round man in the best Texas tradition. He controls a local bank. He can survey land, brand cattle, ride a horse through prickly pear cactus, steer his Lincoln Continental through cedar brush in pursuit of game, drop a deer with unerring aim, then gut and skin the animal. To the Judge ranching is more of a pleasure than a source of income. Explains an associate: "He gets a real kick out of manipulating cattle from one pasture to another." He also enjoys food in quantity. When he speaks of a "couple of hamburgers" for lunch, it turns out to be thick chunks of roast round steak, rolls, iced tea, jalapenos, peas, fried potatoes, fruit cake, and cottage cheese salad.
Johnson's admiration of Moursund knows no bounds. Shortly after he became President, he boasted to newsmen that Moursund, who stands 6 ft. 3 in., and weighs 230 Ibs. with no fat, could "whup Sonny Listen tonight, right now." According to Lyndon, Moursund keeps a six-shooter in the glove compartment of his Lincoln and is fast on the draw. A few months after Jack Kennedy's death, Johnson declared: "If anybody tried to do anything to me, the Judge would get him before anybody." Moursund also keeps a .30-caliber rifle with a nickel-plated barrel clipped under the front seat of his car. Explains he: "When you have to shoot a rattlesnake, pistols aren't worth a damn."
The Judge is also at home on water. Once Lyndon developed a craving for a cruise up the narrow, treacherous Llano River on a winter night so pitch-dark that Moursund stepped right off the end of the pier into hip-deep water. Yet A. W. took the wheel of the cruiser, while Lyndon unconcernedly ate shrimp in the cabin below. Said Johnson: "He'll get us there. I wouldn't trust anybody else."
An Extra Million. Moursund's business acumen is held in awe, particularly by those who recall such feats as his 1958 sale of 631,000 acres on three ranches owned by the West-Pyle Cattle Co. for almost $3,000,000—a cool $1,000,000 more than the owners had expected. He did it by rounding up the biggest cattle buyers in the Southwest, carefully sorting the cattle by breed, size and quality, insisting on sealed bids for each pen.