Copy, Time mag, Monday, Jul. 17, 1978
We'll survive. Despite all the polls and all the rest, I think there's still a hell of a lot of people out there—and you know, they want to believe...
—Nixon to Haldeman, April 25, 1973
It was not a re-emergence to compare with Napoleon's journey out of Elban exile to try to regain
For the first time since he said goodbye to the White House staff four years ago and flew away to his self-imposed house arrest in
Hyden and the rest of
They wore Nixon campaign buttons; some lugged his 1,120-page memoirs, the size of a small steamer trunk, hoping to get an autograph from the last President they truly and fully liked. "He should get around the country more and speak out," a local Republican committeewoman said with wistful truculence. "Other Presidents have done as bad as he ever did." But a friend of hers was not so sure. "He wouldn't ever want to run for public office again," she said. "He should just lead a quiet life from now on."
Five satin-shirted high school musicians played Hail to the Chief. Nixon plunged into the crowd, pressing flesh, absorbing adulation like a man breaking a long fast.