(3 of 4)
Ganglia of Government. The task that confronts him is formidable. Beyond setting broad policies, choosing from the plethora of recommendations being churned out by his advisers, keeping close vigil over the Viet Nam negotiations and the conduct of the war itself, Nixon must establish control over the balky federal bureaucracy. The vast ganglia of government, housed in 141 buildings in and around the capital, cornmand 6,300,000 in military and civilian personnel (the figure was just 4,800,000 when Nixon left Washington in 1961). Somewhat apprehensively, this awesome apparat still waited for the impact of the change in party and President.
Box-Office Success. It was one of the ironies of the transition period that while the lower levels of government awaited new superiors and unknown policy guidelines, Nixon was nonetheless making himself felt at the top. On Viet Nam, particularly, he acted almost as a coPresident, assisting the Johnson Administration in bringing Saigon into the expanded Paris peace talks (see THE WORLD). He scrupulously observed his pledge to act in concert with Lyndon Johnson on foreign affairs from November through January.
The relatively cooperative, amiable tone established by Nixon and Johnson immediately after the election was preserved through Inauguration morning, when the Nixons and Johnsons had arranged to meet at the White House for an informal chat before riding together to the other end of Pennsylvania Avenue for the formal change of command. The trip back—the triumphal parade that was to take the rest of the afternoon—was a box-office success. All 38,000 seats along the line of march were sold in advance.
With the Johnsons scheduled to leave for Texas later in the day, the new first family planned to spend Inauguration night in the White House. Inevitably, there would be many differences in atmosphere and routine. Among the changes: the Nixons plan to hold interdenominational prayer services in the mansion. On a more prosaic level, Pat Nixon may set up a beauty salon for the convenience of White House distaffers and the family.
But before any changes, global or minuscule, would be effected, before that first night's sleep under the nation's most august roof, the Nixons—and the Republicans—had the traditional celebrations to enjoy. At an estimated cost of $2.3 million, the highest in history (borne by the paying guests and the Washington business community), the festivities that started over the weekend with receptions, luncheons and a concert at Constitution Hall, reached a crescendo Monday night with six balls around Washington, at each of which the Nixons were to appear. G.O.P. bashes are traditionally more sedate than Democratic wingdings, but the Republicans still promised to produce hundreds of young "Nixonaires," dressed in silver-sequined miniskirts, at each of the balls. As the weekend approached, downtown hotels and suburban motels were jammed with guests from all corners of the nation. One of the most congested spots in town was outside the old Willard Hotel, where tickets to inaugural events were on sale. The Republicans did not have the field to themselves. A group of Democrats and some newsmen staged the "First Quadrennial Pre-Inaugural Extra-Dimensional Ball," and found a heavy demand for tickets. Meanwhile, antiwar groups organized protest demonstrations.
