THE EDUCATION OF A SENATOR
From an autobiography by Republican Everett McKinley Dirksen, who represented Illinois in the U.S. Senate from 1951 until his death in 1969. The manuscript, reflections on life before election to the Senate, was found in a recently unsealed portion of the Dirks en Papers
Published by permission of the University of Illinois Press
© 1998 by the Board of Trustees, University of Illinois

So it was decided. I called Harold Rainville in Chicago and asked him to take a plane in the following morning and come to see me. I would be at the airport in Peoria to meet him. There was much to discuss. We had to pick a date on which to make the announcement and perhaps the best day of the week would be a Sunday, when people were at home. The second thing to determine was a place for the meeting at which the announcement should be made. I thought a place called Exposition Gardens south of Peoria

"In retrospect," writes Frank H. Mackaman, "two issues determined the relationship between the senator from Illinois and the president/row Texas: civil rights and Vietnam." Frank H. Mackaman, executive director of the Dirksen Congressional Center in Pekin, made that assessment in his introduction to Dirksen's autobiography. He was referring to the close working relationship between Dirksen, a Republican, and Democrat Lyndon Baines Johnson. After considerable negotiation, Dirksen helped Johnson win passage of the 1964 Civil Rights A et. But Dirksen got heavy criticism from his own party when, as minority leader in the Senate, he steadfastly supported Johnson's policies in Vietnam.

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would probably be the ideal spot. Then came the question of a speaker for the meeting. My preference was Senator Karl Mundt, of South Dakota, if he was free and if he would come. There would be releases to newspapers, radio, and TV. It should be a short statement that could be published in its entirety. Then came the question of letters to be sent to every county chairman in the state and perhaps to the ten thousand precinct committeemen. And then the billboards: What they would cost, what text should there be, and where would we go to find the necessary money? And finally we must settle the question of our approach to the campaign.

It could be done in several ways. One approach was to caravan the entire state, and that meant going from town to town after advance announcements and going up and down the main street, shaking hands with merchants, gathering a few people on street corners, and making brief speeches. My own feeling was that an adequately energetic campaign could not be carried on by the caravan method. What was really required was to build up meetings in all of the key spots in the state whether this included one county or a combination of two or three counties.

When it came to fund raising there was, of course, the so-called hundred- dollar dinner which was coming into vogue in different parts of the country. It was the easiest way to raise funds because there were so many who were willing to buy a ticket and attend a dinner.

Quite a number of newspapermen were curious about my relationship with Colonel Robert R. McCormick, editor, publisher, and owner of the Chicago Tribune. It was said that Colonel McCormick dominated the Republican political scene. This rumor was based on the close and intimate relationship between former United States Senator C. Wayland Brooks and the colonel. They were close but that did not mean that the Tribune or the colonel ever undertook to dominate or dictate.

Everett Dirksen and fellow Republican U.S. Senator from Illinois, Charles Percy. The 1966 election gave Dirksen, the minority leader, three more members on his GOP team, including Percy.

When the decision was made that I would run for the Senate, I made it my business to arrange for an appointment with the colonel. At the appointed time I was in his outer office prepared to keep that appointment right on time. I shall never forget it.

His secretary said, "The colonel will see you now." Suddenly a door opened and I was quite sure that I observed correctly that the door had no doorknob by which it might be opened. It simply flew open and there in a huge, high-ceilinged room, so very tastefully decorated, was the colonel with hand outstretched. He bade me take a chair on the opposite side of the desk. It was a very brief meeting and I opened the conversation by saying simply, "Colonel, the news may have reached you that I have decided to seek a seat in the United States Senate. You have always been extremely helpful to the Republican party, and I felt it was only proper that you should hear the announcement from me rather than by a second-hand report. I have not come to solicit the support of the Tribune. That is a matter that you obviously must determine. I can only hope that my service in the House of Representatives over a sixteen-year period has been such as to merit your confidence and also the support of your people and beyond that, there is little more that I can say." He asked a few very brief questions and when I had answered, he arose and escorted me to the door. I noticed that with the side of his shoe he seemed to lightly kick a brass plate in the baseboard and the door opened and, of course, it intrigued me.

One other thing about that visit, however, intrigued me more. The colonel owned a huge, well-trained police dog. To me he seemed massive. He was in the colonel's office when I arrived. He came up as dogs will do and sniffed and frankly it frightened me until the colonel ordered him to go over and lie down.

In every statewide political campaign, and for that matter in every local political campaign in Chicago or in Cook County, the question was invariably raised as to which candidate or candidates the so-called "West Side bloc" would support. This term was supposed to denote a syndicate or organization that allegedly prospered on vice, gambling, and corruption. Certainly some thought it to be a lineal descendant of the notorious Al Capone organization which flourished in the prohibition era and made bootlegging its principal industry. The West Side bloc, however, was something of an amorphous organization whose members, for the most part, were never named, though a few may have been elected to the Chicago City Council or the Cook County Board or to the Illinois legislature. I knew little or nothing about them, but I did know State Representative Peter Granata fairly well and used to see him in the course of the campaign in Cook County and sometimes on the street in downtown Chicago or at a political rally. He was always immaculately dressed and always very jovial.

Whenever I encountered him on the street I thought nothing about talking with him just as I might with any Chicago citizen. On one occasion such a chance encounter took place in front of the LaSalle Hotel. In the course of this visit I recall that he said, "If you are elected to the Senate, the Italian American group is certainly going to ask you for a favor."

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It is often forgotten that in every sense, and particularly at the national level, we have party government. Quite often a voter may say that he is for the man and not for the party, but if 'the man' means the elected candidate, he quickly finds when he takes his seat in Congress that he becomes a party man. He cannot escape it.

"Pete," I said, "you and your group are entitled to ask me any legitimate favor. If it is a fair and proper request and I can honorably do it, I shall be as helpful as I can."

"It is just this and no more. We believe Italian Americans are entitled to recognition just as much as the Swedes or the Poles or any other group, and we would be prepared at the right time to suggest a name for consideration for a federal judgeship."

"Well, Pete, obviously such a thing will have to wait until we elect a Republican president. If we do, I shall be glad to entertain your suggestion. Do you have any particular person in mind?"

"I certainly do," he said. "I am thinking of Circuit Judge John Sbarbaro."

"If and when the time comes, refresh me on this matter and it will have consideration."

Ultimately that suggestion was made to me and I checked into the credentials of Judge Sbarbaro and found he was highly regarded. There was one impediment; he was sixty- seven years old. The general rule that prevailed was that an appointment to the federal bench when a person was over sixty years old was not considered very likely. Any consideration was precluded shortly thereafter when the judge was killed in an airplane accident. This was my sole experience with the so-called West Side bloc.

Election day wore on, and early in the evening there were some scattered returns, mainly from areas downstate, and they were quite favorable. But in mid-evening, results from the voting machines in Chicago were being reported to the city news desk for dissemination to all news media. When the clock indicated that it was about eleven o'clock, I was seventy- five thousand behind. I could see a look of agony and despair deepening on the face of my twin brother, who was with me. He took me off in a corner. I thought he was actually going to break down and cry. At last he managed to say, "I guess you're sunk."

Actually I was not feeling too happy at the moment, and yet I was absolutely certain that when all the votes were finally in I would be the winner. By way of comfort I said, "Wait until we get the returns from a few particular wards in Chicago. If I come close to an even break in those wards, I'll know for sure that I shall win." I am not sure how much comfort it gave him, but at the moment it was the best I could do.

The night wore on and so did the morning, and by that time we had a fair idea that victory was won. When at long last the results were announced, they indicated that 3, 614 Illinois voters had gone to the polls or voted by absentee ballot. It seemed a little incredible in view of the entrenched political machine in the city of Chicago, but the score sheet indicated that I had carried Cook County by 8, 000 votes. The huge turnout of suburban voters in the county offset the vote in the fifty city wards. A rundown of the counties indicated that I had carried 82 of the 102 counties of the state and that the plurality was 294,354.1 had received 54.1 per cent of the total vote.

So I was at last a senator.

It is interesting how quickly political passions can be aroused and equally interesting how quickly they can subside. Remembering my delightful visit with President Truman at the White House before I left Washington in 1948,1 was interested when, in the last days of the campaign, the president agreed to a St. Louis speech on behalf of [Democratic incumbent opponent] Senator [Scott] Lucas. St. Louis was chosen for this purpose because it was just across the Mississippi River from Illinois, and there were radio, television, and press facilities there through which the president's speech could be adequately covered. That night President Truman paid his respects to me in language which came naturally to one who had been schooled in Kansas City ward

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politics. When he referred to me in the course of the speech, he called me "that Thing across the river." I fairly chortled to myself and thought, "It would take more than those words to win a victory," and I was right.

It was a long time afterward when I saw President Truman at a cocktail party sponsored by Mayor Daley of Chicago. The mayor had invited many Republicans, as was his custom. Virtually all of the invited guests were on hand when suddenly President Truman appeared through a side door. As he approached the crowd he saw me and said, "Dirksen, what have you in that glass?"

I said, "Mr. President, it's an old-fashioned."

Without hesitation, he said, "Sounds good to me. I'll have one." He visited through the crowd.

When the opportunity presented itself, I engaged him in conversation and reminded him of what he had said to me when I quit Congress and, also, what he had called me in his one major speech on behalf of Senator Lucas. The president laughed quite heartily and simply said, "Dirksen, you know how those things are in a political campaign." And, of course, I did know.

It is often forgotten that in every sense, and particularly at the national level, we have party government. Quite often a voter may say that he is for the man and not for the party, but if "the man" means the elected candidate, he quickly finds when he takes his seat in Congress that he becomes a party man. He cannot escape it. To be sure, we have had a few independents but not many, and no matter how a man may vote, he fits in with some party program and structure.

It begins from the moment he is assigned a seat, particularly in the United States Senate where he must be assigned on his side of the aisle by a committee that handles such matters. We see this party structure unfold in the case of nominations made by the president to boards and commissions which have been created by the Congress. Invariably the statute states the number of members for such an agency and provides that no more than half plus one may come from the same political party.

One realizes the prevalence of the party structure also when newspapers record any given vote. It is inevitably tabulated as so many Democrats for, so many Republicans for, and so many Democrats against, so many Republicans against.

There will be sharp differences of opinion as to whether this is good or bad, but how would we fare if we did not have a party in power to be held accountable for the conduct of government and another party with the power to call it to account?

To be sure, there are liberal Republicans and liberal Democrats, and there are conservative Republicans and conservative Democrats. And there are moderates in the middle. The basic party structure still remains, however. It is still a two- party system under which we operate.

There is a special point in all this. I have reserved it for this epilogue on the campaign of 1950. During the campaign I had observed the extraordinary number of young men and women who participated actively. When it was over I was the recipient of letters, from many such young people, from different parts of the country, in which they asked how to get into politics, how to become a congressman, how to become a senator. I had thought it was wonderful that they took such interest and particularly so since I had in my mind a series of questions which the Gallup poll had submitted to the country. The last of these questions was, "If you had a son or daughter would you like to see them aspire to a political career? If not, why not?" The response to that question by parents was almost unanimous: they did not want to see their sons and daughters venture into a political career, and the reason for it was that they felt that politics was corrupt. I felt this was unfortunate — a dismal misevaluation of American political life! I wanted to do something to change that image. 

There mil be sharp differences of opinion as to whether this is good or bad, but how would we fare if we did not have a party in power to be held accountable for the conduct of government and another party with the power to call it to account? To be sure, there are liberal Republicans and liberal Democrats, and there are conservative Republicans and conservative Democrats.

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