Page 236 of Edge of Eternity (The Century 3)

George leaped to his feet, clapping for joy. He was not the only one: the applause burst out again, and this time went on longer than previously.

Johnson waited for it to die down, then said: "We have talked long enough in this country about civil rights. We have talked for one hundred years or more. It is time, now, to write the next chapter--and to write it in the books of law."

They applauded again.

Euphoric, George looked at the few black faces in the chamber: five Negro congressmen, including Gus Hawkins of California, who actually looked white; Mr. and Mrs. Wright in the presidential box, clapping; a scatter of dark faces among the spectators in the gallery. Their expressions showed relief, hope, and gladness.

Then his eye fell on the rows of seats behind the cabinet, where the senior senators sat, most of them Southerners, sullen and resentful.

Not a single one was joining in the applause.

*

Skip Dickerson laid it out to George six days later in the small study next to the Oval Office. "Our only chance is a discharge petition."

"What's that?"

Dickerson pushed his blond forelock out of his eyes. "It's a resolution passed by Congress discharging the rules committee from control of the bill and forcing it to be sent to the floor for debate."

George felt frustrated that these arcane procedures had to be gone through so that Maria's grandfather would not be thrown in jail for registering to vote. "I've never heard of that," he said.

"We need a majority vote. Southern Democrats will be against us, so I calculate we're fifty-eight votes short."

"Shit. We need fifty-eight Republicans to support us before we can do the right thing?"

"Yes. And that's where you come in."

"Me?"

"A lot of Republicans claim to support civil rights. After all, theirs is the party of Abraham Lincoln, who freed the slaves. We want Martin Luther King and all the Negro leaders to call their Republican supporters, explain this situation to them, and tell them to vote for the petition. The message is that you can't be in favor of civil rights unless you're in favor of the petition."

George nodded. "That's good."

"Some will say they're in favor of civil rights but they don't like this procedural hurry-up. They need to understand that Senator Howard Smith is a hard-core segregationist who will make sure his committee debates the rules until it's too late to pass the bill. What he's doing is not delay, it's sabotage."

"Okay."

A secretary put her head around the door and said: "He's ready for you."

The two young men stood up and walked into the Oval Office.

As always, George was struck by the sheer size of Lyndon Johnson. He was six foot three, but height was only part of it. His head was big, his nose was long, his earlobes were like pancakes. He shook George's hand, then held on to it, grasping George's shoulder with his other hand, standing close enough to make George feel uncomfortable at the intimacy.

Johnson said: "George, I've asked all the Kennedy people to stay on at the White House and help me. You're all Harvard educated and I went to Southwest Texas State Teachers' College. See, I need y'all more than he did."

George did not know what to say. This level of humility was embarrassing. After a hesitation he said: "I'm here to help you any way I can, Mr. President."

By now a thousand people must have said that or something similar, but Johnson reacted as if he had never heard it before. "I sure appreciate you saying that, George," he said fervently. "Thank you." Then he got down to business. "A lot of people have asked me to soften up the civil rights bill to make it easier for Southerners to swallow. They've suggested taking out the prohibition against segregation in public accommodations. I'm not willing to do that, George, for two reasons. The first is that they're going to hate the bill regardless of how hard or soft it is, and I don't believe they'll support it no matter how much I draw its teeth."

That sounded right to George. "If you're going to have a fight, you might as well fight for what you really want."

"Exactly. And I'll tell you the second reason. I have a friend and employee called Mrs. Zephyr Wright."

George recalled Mr. and Mrs. Wright, who had been in the presidential box at the House of Representatives.

Johnson went on: "One time when she was about to drive to Texas I asked her to take my dog with her. She said: 'Please don't ask me to do that.' I had to ask why. 'Driving through the South is tough enough just being black,' she said. 'You can't find a place to eat or sleep or even go to the bathroom. With a dog it's going to be just impossible.' That hurt me, George; it almost brought me to tears. Mrs. Wright is a college graduate, you know. That was when I realized how important public accommodations are when we're talking about segregation. I know what it is to be looked down on, George, and I sure don't wish it on anyone else."

"It's good to hear that," said George.

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