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Reflections
of Ken Towery
Lyndon
Johnson & Walter Jenkins
By Ken
Towery
The Floyd County Hesperian-Beacon
For the record: The year
was 1964. A man named Goldwater had been chosen by the
Republican Party at the "Cow Palace" in San Francisco as its
standard bearer against Lyndon Johnson, who had assumed the
Presidency following John F. Kennedy's assassination. While
it has no bearing on what follows, I was there.
At that time I was on the staff of Senator John G. Tower,
who had been elected to replace Johnson in 1961 as a
Senator from Texas. Johnson had been elevated to the Vice
Presidency, as a running mate to Kennedy in the General
Election of 1960. Kennedy had been killed by a communist
assassin, and Johnson had become President He, Johnson, in
1964, was running for reelection as President.
Tower was very much a champion of Goldwater. He had
campaigned for him across the country, and, in many cases
when his campaign stops were in Texas, I, as his
Administrative Assistant, had accompanied him and in many
cases had framed his comments. Accordingly, Tower had earned
a reputation as one of Goldwater's most ardent champions,
and Lyndon's most strident critics.
It became apparent early-on that Goldwater would not defeat
Johnson. Goldwater was not a good candidate. He was an
honest man, at that time, given to voice his opinions
on issues that needed addressing, but which, once addressed,
redounded to his own detriment. Thus, he spoke of the need
to "fix" Social Security (the government is still wrestling
with that subject), to address the issue of subsidized
corporate power in the United States, and generally to
reduce the power and scope of the federal government. A few
examples: He went to Seattle and criticized government
subsidizing of Boeing aircraft, he went to Florida and said
Social Security was in a mess and needed fixing, he went to
Tennessee and criticized the Tennessee Vallley Authority.
His message was the right message, in my opinion,
delivered at the wrong time. On top of all that, the mood of
the country was simply "Don't rock the boat." A president
had just been killed, and the electorate was in no mood to
change leadership. They saw in Johnson a steadying hand,
while a Goldwater victory promised vast change in areas of
government with which many people had grown
accustomed.
At any rate, the campaign was nearing its close. The
top member of Johnson's White House staff, one Walter
Jenkins, was apprehended in a public washroom in
Washington D,C., engaged in homosexual activity. The charge,
as I remember it, was that Jenkins was accused by the police
with Indecent exposure, at that time a sort of
euphemism for homosexual activity in a public place.
The story became an instant mini-scandal. The media, at that
time, had not yet come to the conclusion that homosexuality,
or bi-sexuality, was, if not a good thing, at least
completely acceptable in public life. So the press, desiring
Johnson's election, responded well to defensive
stories out of the White House. Mrs. LBJ, for instance, made
public statements to the effect that it was all the result
of overwork on Jenkinsí part. For reasons unknown to
this writer, she assumed the role of Jenkinsí
champion. These stories, her response to
Jenkinsí plight, were generally presented in a
sympathetic light. Still, Jenkins resigned and returned to
Austin.
During that episode, the Goldwater campaign was approached
by someone who claimed to have knowledge of Mr.
Jenkinsí previous activity. A prisoner incarcerated
in Arizona, I do not know whether it was a federal prisoner,
or a state prisoner, had supposedly told a fellow prisoner
that "this is not the first time that guy" had run afoul of
the law. He related a tale that indicated Mr. Jenkins
had been arrested in Austin, Texas, for "contributing to the
delinquency to a minor." Prison authorities learned of the
tale. They so informed the Goldwater campaign.
Since he was from Texas, Tower was asked to "check it out".
He refused. Tower simply did not believe, he said, that that
sort of thing ought to enter public debate. In some ways,
Tower was a purist in politics. He thought a person's
qualifications for public office should rest entirely upon
that person's public performance in office, with that record
being judged by his constituents. Thus, in time, he was the
only Senator, in my own recollection, who voted not to
censure an exceedingly liberal Democrat Senator named Tom
Dodd, from Connecticut, or someplace, who had been
accused of mixing campaign funds with personal funds, and
using those funds for personal benefit. Tower took the
position that the matter should remain strictly between the
Senator and his constituents. If they wanted to elect
someone like that to represent them, that was their
business. He and I differed mightily on that issue, but the
call was his. He voted not to censure Dodd. Years later,
Dodd's son, then a Senator, was one of only two Democratic
Senators to vote to confirm Tower for the post of Secretary
of Defense. The other was Lloyd Bentsen, a Democratic
Senator from Texas.
At any rate, the Goldwater campaign leaned on Tower to
determine the validity of the report by the Arizona convict.
Tower still refused, but he had no objection, he said,
to my going to Texas to check the records and see if there
was any truth to the report. The matter was put
to me, and I agreed to check it out.
I arrived in Austin late in the afternoon, a few days before
the November 1964 election, and went directly to the
Austin Police Department. I asked to see the Police
Department records of arrests in certain years. I made no
mention of what specific entry, or entries, I was desirous
of seeing. The informant in Arizona did not remember the
exact date, saying only that it fell between certain
dates, those dates being some years before the incident in
Washington.
I was told the records were not available, that they had
already been "put down in the basement." I asked to see the
reports, saying I would wait, that the reports were a matter
of public record, and that I demanded they be made
available. Very well, I was told, they would provide the
records, but it would take some time.
I waited. In about twenty or thirty minutes the records
appeared. They were volumes of police records, bound
on a year-by-year basis. I began going through the names of
arrests. In one specific year there was no entry for any
arrest of anyone whose name started with a "Je". There were
plenty of "Ja's", "Jo's", and the like, but no "Je's", No
Jenkins, no Jennings. No anybody whose name started with
"Je".
As I perused the document I was suddenly surprised by the
popping of flash bulbs. I looked up to see an old friend,
Bill Malone, aiming a camera at me. Several pictures were
taken at that time. Accompanying Malone was a lawyer,
who was the son of a highly respected lobbyist-attorney in
Austin. The elder lawyer-lobbyist had represented Texas
railroads for years before the Texas Legislature. I
had had no previous experience with the young lawyer, but
the photographer, Malone, had once worked for the same
employer (the Austin American-Statesman) as had I. He had
gone out on his own, and at that time operated a private
photography studio on Lamar Blvd., in Austin, and as such,
took many pictures around town. My recollection is that
there were others in the group, but of this, I am not
certain.
I got up from my workplace and approached the group. I
distinctly remember parts of the conversation. My first
comment was "well, I guess you know why Iím here and
what I'm looking for."
The lawyer replied, "Yes, you are looking for
something on Walter" (Jenkins.)
I looked at Malone, without saying anything. He said, "Ken,
don't blame me, I'm just making a living. They just called
me and told me to meet them down here and take some
pictures."
At one point in the confrontation I told the young lawyer
that I had known his dad, that I knew his dad's general
attitude about things, and that "he would be sorely
disappointed to know you are involved something like this."
He did not reply.
It should be noted here, and it is noted here, that the
lawyer, who will not be named in this narrative, says he has
no recollection of the event. His only recollection of ever
being present at the Austin Police Department offices, he
says, was "during college days, when I was trying to
get some student out of trouble." He also notes that the
event, or the alleged event, took place, if it did take
place, "over 40 years ago."
"You are taxing my memory," he noted, during a telephone
conversation that took place in the early days of 2002, "and
I have no memory of that ever taking place."
Perhaps the lawyer is right. Perhaps my own memory and notes
are wrong. But how could one not remember such an event?
The same holds true for me. How could I dream up a
trip that took me from the District of Columbia to Austin,
Texas to examine the police blotter concerning the Chief of
Staff for the President of the United States?
Some conclusions, some questions and some observations: It
was obvious that I had been given records that had been
altered. In no other year did I find a complete absence of
any "Je's" in the arrest records. It was also obvious that
the police instantly alerted someone in Lyndon Johnson's
camp about by visit, and my request to see the records.
It was also obvious, though this may be stretching it
a bit, that a visit from someone concerning the Jenkins
record, or lack of it, was anticipated. I can see no other
answer for the speed with which the group responded to what
must have been a police alert.
It had been apparent that the long arm of Lyndon Johnson
reached into the Austin City Council. That fact became
obvious when an Arkansas senator named McClellan filed for
permission to charter a television cable operation in
Austin, the cable business at that time being in its
infancy. The application of McClellan and his associates had
to be denied by City Council members, because Johnson, it
was revealed, already had one on record. Johnson, for many
years, had the sole television station in Austin, and
by wrapping up the cable also, became, in effect, the sole
purveyor of television signals in the city. The charter to
grant Johnson his cable license had been secretly filed,
acted upon, and had lain dormant, only to surface when
someone else also applied.
Still, I had no idea that his organization also extended
into the Austin Police Department of that time. It had been
obvious, for years, that Lyndon had toadies on the Austin
City Council as well as within the Austin business
community. The word simply passed, in Austin, who
Johnson favored for Mayor of the city. Few Austin residents
had any knowledge, or any interest, in the close
relationship between Johnson and the inner workings of
the City. It seemed strange, to some of us, that a Majority
Leader in the United States Senate would concern himself
with decisions that might be made by local city councilmen,
but it was taken as a matter of fact, a matter of life in
Austin. At that time Austin was a city of some 150,000,
about one fourth its present population, dependant almost
entirely on various segments of government for its survival.
In retrospect it should not have come as a surprise to even
the dumbest of us It should have come as no surprise to the
lowest of us that those who made decisions affecting
the lives of all of us would listen attentively to the
wishes of those in even higher positions who might, just
might, steer government money in the direction of the city
and those who benefited from that steerage.
We draw no lessons from this episode. Different people will
see it differently. It is merely relayed to chronicle, for
the record, another instance in which Lyndon Johnson, and
those who labored In the political vineyards on his behalf,
went about their work.
©
copyright, 2002 The Floyd County Hesperian-Beacon
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