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Nov. 24, 1995 - Bill Cooper
55:39
Kennedy #2
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Time Text
Well, let's go out for the real thing.
Good-bye, sizzling fire.
What the hell?
The End
I'm William Cooper, and once again, you're listening to the Hour of the Time. - Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we continue with Part Two of our series on the life, the presidency, and the assassination of John Fitzgerald Kennedy.
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Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, part two in our continuing series.
The End
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To be continued...
At the end of the ganglia of wires that run from this console quivers the power of America, from thermonuclear striking force to missiles in the deep.
Whoever in lonely responsibility must press one of these buttons does so for all the American people.
When he moves to create or destroy, he speaks his conscience and theirs, for they have freely chosen him.
In the 172nd year of their Republic, the American people sought to give this responsibility for a new year in that rowdy transaction of passion, tumult, and circus called the presidential campaign.
The people of the United States in this last week have finally caught up With the promises that have been made by our opponents, they realize that it's a modern medicine man show, a Pied Piper promotion, and they're not going to go down that hard.
I run against a candidate who reminds me of the smell of his body, the circus elephant, the smell of his body.
It was invisible as always.
High in the hills of New Hampshire, as the clock passed midnight, the citizens of Hart's location gathered to fit together the first fragments of the mystery.
Before the clock came round again, 68 million other Americans would join these first 12 voters to give the answer.
By dawn tomorrow, America's power would pass to new leadership.
Yet who it was to be, no man could say.
It was 8.40 that morning when the candidate arrived at the West End branch of the Boston Public Library to cast his vote.
Here in the 11th Congressional District, where he had won his first political victory, he signed, in the basement of the library, John F. Kennedy, 122 Bowdoin Street.
His education for power had begun 43 years ago.
Born in the First World War in a gentle suburb of Boston, schooled at New England's finest halls, he had, as a Harvard junior, visited England and watched, with his father the ambassador, the decay of English power as Munich approached.
Then Case did war himself from the far Pacific.
Peace had brought him back to Boston politics, to the United States Senate in 52.
Peace had graced him with a new bride, led him to an examination of history and heroes in a prize-winning book.
Spectacular re-election to the Senate urged him on to the presidency.
Now, home again, after two years' pursuit of ultimate power, he must wait for judgment of his fellow countrymen.
Far across the continents, his rival, too, had returned home.
Whittier, California, was crowded now with the curious, gathering to see Richard Nixon cast his vote in Precinct 33.
In this quiet town, a Quaker village, he had been born 47 years ago.
He returned now as Vice President of the United States.
A sensitive lad, a good student, Dick Nixon had gone from Whittier schools to Duke University, then off to war in the Pacific.
Then home again to run for Congress.
A buried pumpkin, Alger Hiss, a strip of hidden microfilm, combined to make young Congressman Nixon famous, led him to the Senate in 1950, fed him to nomination for second highest post in the land under Dwight D. Eisenhower.
As Eisenhower's heir apparent, Nixon traveled the globe, debated with Nikita Khrushchev in Moscow.
Nixon offered Americans experience and the magic stamp of legitimacy.
For Nixon, this was the end of a long road.
A road whose tributaries begin in the secret places of men's hope and ambition, long before it descends to public view in the pageantry of open politics.
A road that invites men on into history and immortality.
It was a crowded road in the fall of 1959, as political leaders examined seven men in whose dreams might shimmer the tall pillars of the White House.
On the Democratic side were five candidates.
Stuart Sarnington of Missouri, National Defense Specialist, was the politician's favorite.
Yet many waited for word from the scrutable Adlai Stevenson, most distinguished of Democrats, but a two-time loser.
Certainly Lyndon Johnson, Master of Congress, would run, but the Southerner had no big city appeal.
Hubert Humphrey was going, but could he transfer his Minnesota power to other states?
Finally, John Kennedy of Massachusetts.
Brilliant, glamorous, but young.
Among Republicans, newcomer Nelson Rockefeller, a smashing vote-gatherer.
But was he too new, too rich, too liberal?
And of course, Richard Nixon.
Each man's life had already long since been reshaped by presidential ambition.
But to ski such yearning too early is forbidden by the code of American politics.
I so believe that it's too early to Make a decision with regard to 1960.
Why have you chosen to become the first non-candidate?
I'm not a candidate, but a President of the United States.
Well, you've said many times you're not a candidate, but so have you.
Accept this harassment.
Say it again.
The President of the United States prefers you as an aspirant to the presidential nomination argument.
That's his senatorial statement, not mine.
Informed sources have said you'll make your decision by November.
I have a whole schedule.
Now, I've made a decision at the present time that I'm not candidate.
These matters are with so hard to call the attention of those in political life, really, and not matters of general concern until the primaries finally come.
Yet finally, politics must be brought into the open.
The Republicans hold the White House.
In midwinter, two Democrats, Hubert Humphrey and John Kennedy, announce their claims.
Kennedy is off first to an uncontested primary victory in New Hampshire, but his mortal battleground will be those spring primaries where Humphrey challenges him.
No other way to nomination is open for either man.
Next July, the Democratic Convention will choose the candidate.
But Humphrey and Kennedy fear that the big city bosses may cut their hearts out in convention-backed rooms.
Kennedy, because they think a Catholic must lose.
Humphrey, because they think him too liberal.
So these candidates must now appeal to the people, and their first clash comes in the Wisconsin primaries.
Here on the winding roads of the Badger's Case, Kennedy, a stranger from Boston in cold prairie country, must joust with Humphrey to political death.
Lonely as a stick on the street corners of chill Wisconsin, Kennedy reaches for hands to shake, hearts to win, and for votes.
Votes are power.
Only factory gate grassroots votes delivered at primaries will give either Kennedy or Humphrey the strength to buck the bosses of convention and win the nomination.
For Humphrey, as for Kennedy, the same grueling tasks wait.
Everywhere his bus stops, Humphrey calls on his Midwestern neighbors of Wisconsin to reject his elegant stranger, the Bay State Senator.
From over the borders of his home state, Minnesota, come weekend volunteers for his modest headquarters, serving his cause with earnest folksy's heel, passing out cards that give Muriel Humphrey's recipe for black passing out cards that give Muriel Humphrey's recipe for black bean soup.
It's been Mrs. Humphrey and myself.
You see, I sort of feel like an independent merchant competing against a chainsaw when I compete with a Kennedy family.
From a large well-staffed headquarters in downtown Milwaukee, Kennedy workers efficiently divide Wisconsin into its ten convention districts.
They are trying for a knockout, a victory that will entirely eliminate Humphrey.
Bobby Kennedy directs the most skillful team of political operators since James Farley captured Franklin Roosevelt's troops.
The Kennedy women arrive, very special.
Then his wife, too, acts her efforts.
Now, in the streets, as the end draws near, the crowds begin to grow.
The racing mounts, and Kennedy men predict victory by seven districts to three, then eight to two, then nine to one.
By election morning, as Democrats vote in the Wisconsin primaries, some even predict a clean sweep, all 10.
Listening to these words on the radio in the third floor suite at Milwaukee's sister hotel, studying the shape of the vote, Kennedy knows early in the evening, first, that he has scored no knockouts. Kennedy knows early in the evening, first, that he has Secondly, that politicians everywhere will see the vote as a reflection of religious cleavage.
What is happening is now clear.
The industrial cities with their Catholic working men are giving the Massachusetts senator a decisive margin.
But the three westernmost districts of Wisconsin, Agricultural and Protestant, are voting heavily for Humphreys.
For Kennedy, this is a victory without joy.
Though he wins six districts to four, he still has not proven his vote-getting ability in Protestant districts.
...for Kennedy, this is a victory without joy.
Though he wins six districts to four, he still has not proven his vote-getting ability in Protestant districts.
In a Milwaukee television studio, Humphrey is as cheerful as Kennedy is downcast.
Humphrey has expected a trouncing.
This upset is almost a victory for him.
Exuberantly, he prepares for the next round.
The West Virginia primary.
Kennedy men feel otherwise.
That Humphrey, having lost in Wisconsin, has lost all, and now should quit.
As he flies to West Virginia, Kennedy must face the moment of truth.
He must prove that religion alone will not decide elections in America, and he must do it in a state whose people are 95% Protestant.
If he loses there, he loses all, and the 1960 convention will choose a candidate from the back rooms.
As Kennedy arrives to take command in Charleston, West Virginia, he finds his organization already installed and fresh reserves arriving from New England.
Bobby Kennedy goads the team into high.
Pollster Lou Harris arrives to probe the ties of prejudice.
Direct from Wisconsin to marshal the field workers has come Larry O'Brien.
And press chief Stalinger is now on a 20-hour day.
Against such formidable opposition, Humphrey's major problem grows more acute every day.
It doesn't make you feel very happy when the man walks into your room at 5.30 in the morning and says, Senator, we're in debt $18,000 and we have no more money for anything.
No money for television, no money for pennies.
I say, where are the buttons?
We have no money.
So I say, all right, we'll just knock off the whole day, cancel out the program, and we'll get on this telephone.
I'll call my friends in Minnesota, we'll call them in New York, we'll call them in Washington.
We've got to raise the money.
From beginning to end, Humphrey's campaign echoes the merit of another day, of the old populists, of the warm visionary early New Deal.
He was the poor man's candidate, and in West Virginia with its thousands of unemployed miners, Humphrey hoped for a response.
Humphrey is a senator, a neighbor, a friend.
We're gonna stick with him all the way to the end.
He used to come over just to help us out.
It's our turn to help him without any doubt.
So vote for Hubert!
Hubert!
Hubert Humphrey, the president for you and me.
Kennedy's problem is religion.
The two elegant Kennedys, with their polished East Coast accents, their grace of dress and daring, seem Asian in West Virginia.
But nothing seems more Asian than their Catholic faith in this overwhelmingly Protestant state.
Staff planners debate the problem.
Finally, acting with his closest advisor, Ted Sorensen, Kennedy decides to bring the issue into the open.
There is no test of faith or religion when a man is summoned to die for his country.
Why should there be a test of faith when he tries to serve it in peace?
So speaks Kennedy.
But no one can read from the intent faces of the West Virginians whether this plea reaches their heart.
On May 10th, West Virginia votes.
It will be late before the ballots give the answer.
Will Kennedy sweep by 60-40?
The walls of prejudice have fallen.
At one o'clock at his headquarters, Humphrey speaks for the last time as candidate.
Now, I am no longer a candidate for the Democratic presidential nomination.
I shall run for re-election to the United States Senate in the state of Minnesota.
I shall do whatever I can, however, to make sure that the Democratic convention will adopt a liberal platform and nominate liberal candidates who will be elected in November.
And to that end, I shall be in constant contact with my friends in Minnesota and throughout the country.
That's my statement.
I want to thank all of you, too.
You've been very good people.
Can we have that question from the top?
Lenny!
I'm going to vote for a few words hungry.
He's a man for you and me.
He'll make everybody happy.
He'll make everybody happy.
Let me.
First man out of the 1960 sweet state.
Humphrey is a glow of devotion on all who follow him.
But presidential politics have little time for losers.
Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. Amen. - America!
And the people call!
America!
America!
And the people go.
And the people go.
And the people go.
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Come on, America!
With the devil's will be, the devil's will be, the glory of the day.
America!
America!
Come in the dirt of the country, Lord, of the city must recall.
Call them. Amen.
Amen.
Thank you.
When the things in the heart and the fact we found, and the history of the king of the Lord.
The words of the Lord that our fathers heard, and the grace of the Lord.
And the name of the Lord is the name of the King, and it seems to be true of me.
America!
It's a cold, a delicate energy, and a heart and a door for me.
And the way they thank the soul of America.
It's a cold, a great day of the earth, and it's asking us to be.
America!
Let it go.
Let it go.
Jesus, you.
That love and the music are strong and clear, that love will always be free.
America, America, country of love.
America, America, the Volksporre goes home.
We go home, it's America, come on, and we've gone.
America, America, the Volksporre goes home.
The weeks following this victory, Kennedy, like all candidates, devotes to good old-fashioned politicking with big city eastern bosses.
To Pennsylvania to powwow with grizzled Governor Lars.
To Chicago and Dick Daly, boss of Cook County.
To New York and Bob Wagner at Gracie Mansion.
To New Jersey and Governor Robert Minor.
To Michigan and friendly Sophie Williams.
The primaries have won them delegates.
More than that, they have won them the prestige to turn to these northern power brokers and command the great flocks of delegates they control at conventions.
The American destiny is moved by more than grassroot politics.
Twelve thousand miles away, an American U-2 is brought down over Russian soil, and Khrushchev's short-tempered snaps.
The summit conference of 1960 explodes with this tirade against America.
And you will again prepare for the attack?
We will stop the war.
We will not be a soldier.
The outer world in these spring weeks seethed with violent threats.
Africa is liberated, the Congo approves self-governance, and as the world is filled with spreading tensions, the Democratic Party re-examines its usual program.
At the end of June, Harry Truman puts the question directly to Jack Kennedy.
I want to say to him at this time, and I quote a statement to Senator Kennedy, Senator, are you certain That you're quite ready for the country, or the country is ready for you, in the role of president in January 1961.
In these turbulent weeks, Democrats seek another candidate.
Ah, that's right!
Thousands of other Democrats turn almost by instinct to the party of the most eloquent spokesman on foreign affairs, Adlai Stevenson.
You know, Chairman Buckler this afternoon recognized you as a candidate and he said that your people, at least, are going to be allowed to have office space in the Biltmore Hotel.
Is this a danger to you?
Well, I hadn't heard about that.
That's news to me.
My people are going to have office space in the Biltmore Hotel, correct?
Well, I didn't even know I had any people until I got to Washington.
Anyway, bless all my people.
Either two, Lyndon Johnson's campaign has been a mixture of country music and congressional maneuver.
Now, Johnson counts on his record as the even majority leader of the Senate to give him the image of leader for a time of crisis.
Senator Kennedy, with the convention just less than two weeks away, how do things look for you?
I think it's coming along very well, I hope.
A phenomenon which it seemed close enough for Kennedy to touch in May.
It could be a matter of bitter contest in Los Angeles in July.
Los Angeles Glickmans is starting July 4th weekend.
Delegates, alternates, candidates, hopefuls, wheeler-dealers stream in.
The sports arena waits for the Democratic Convention.
But at the Biltmore Hotel downtown, the real business politicking has already begun.
761 is the magic number.
761 votes needed to nominate.
The lure or snare wavering delegates, headquarters have been opened by each candidate.
It's funny that an OCL win has compromised candidates in a deadlock.
Slyndon Johnson has a solid block of 400 Southern delegates, but little support from elsewhere.
Nine miles away, Adlai Stevenson, on Convention Eve, still refuses to ask a single delegate's votes.
But Stevenson has tremendous emotional support in the party.
His followers hope that Johnson leaders will add their delegates to a Stop Kennedy movement that will halt Kennedy on the first ballot and rip him apart on later ballots.
As front-runner, Kennedy is the target of every whisper, rumor, and counter-plan of his rivals.
Yet, in the noise and babble, the A315 at the Piltmore, the Kennedy command post, remains serene.
Someone calls this convention the changing of the guard.
A new generation is replacing the old.
The battle-tested veterans behind these doors are almost all in their thirties.
Unflustered, They direct the Kennedy Organization in a round-the-clock effort.
Great national conventions always break up into small meetings of state, regional, and special interest groups.
All these meetings are served by a simple purpose, to find the leader of the party going to offer the nation.
As caucuses seek a man, the candidates seek out caucuses, addressing ten, twenty groups a day.
Entering the last intense weekend of carpeting before convention, Kennedy feels reasonably certain of 600 votes.
Three chief states can add the votes needed for nomination, but Illinois, Pennsylvania, and California have not yet made up their minds.
Kennedy efforts will concentrate on these.
But Kennedy has recorded big daily all year.
He controls Illinois' 69 votes.
On Sunday, he carpeted Illinois behind closed doors, and it breaks 59 for Kennedy.
Monday, Kennedy pleads for Pennsylvania votes.
By noon, Governor Lawrence announced it.
64 out of 81 for Kennedy.
The bandwagon rose as the convention officially opens that evening.
Up to now, it's been Kennedy all the way, and has counted past 700 delegates.
Up to now, it's been Kennedy all the way, and his count has passed 700 delegates, only 60-odd shy of nominations.
It's now called Incussion.
I have the annual and the prize of the group.
Suddenly, fields and planners explode as a prize.
They have flown a chain of wild enthusiasts around the arena.
They hope they can figure a stampede to Hulk Kennedy.
The End Next day, Tuesday, Kennedy meets Johnson before a joint meeting of the Texas and Massachusetts delegations.
All other caucuses pause to watch as the majority leader contrasts his working record in the Senate with that of his campaigning rival.
For six days and nights we had 24-hour sessions.
Six days and nights I had to deliver a quorum of 51 men on a moment's notice to keep percentage in session to get any better call.
And I'm proud to tell you that on those 50 quorum calls, Lyndon Johnson answers every one of them.
Some men who would be present on a civil rights platform answered none.
Admittedly, I didn't have the problem that some of my people had of opposing Senator Johnson more than four primaries.
Senator Johnson, isn't it necessary that I appreciate what Senator Johnson has to say?
He made some general references to the shortcomings of other presidential candidates, but as he was not specific, I assume he was talking about some of the other candidates and not about you.
It is true that Senator Johnson made a wonderful record in answering your phone calls, and I want to commend him for it.
I was not present on all those occasions.
I was not Majority Leader.
As Linda knows, I never criticized.
In fact, on every occasion I said that I thought Senator Johnson should not enter the primaries, that his proper responsibility was as Majority Leader, and that if he would let Hubert Wayne and I settle this matter, we could come to a clear-cut decision.
So I come to you today Full of admiration for Senator Johnson, full of affection for him, strongly in support of him for Majority Leader, and I'm confident that in that position, we're all going to be able to work together.
Thank you.
Next Tuesday afternoon, Stevenson comes to the convention.
He finds the contagious excitement of his volunteers sweeping the delegates from the floor.
The reservoir of affection for him floods over.
The Prumos rocks the delegates.
They know this pressure cracked the California delegation today when 33 California votes broke to Stevenson.
Can Adelaide be drafted?
Many delegates waver.
Should they hold back Boone Kennedy and wait for Stevenson's call?
After getting in and out of the Diltmore Hotel in this hall, I've decided that I know who you're going to nominate.
It will be the last two nights.
Please tonight take the screen.
Setback hits Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson favors the headlines.
The next day, Wednesday, Stevenson volunteers circle the arena again.
They flood the gates, pack the galleries, prepare to stampede the conventions.
Nominations begin when Sam Rayburn offers Johnson's name.
I present to you, ma'am...
After four hours of nominations and demonstrations, the final struggle for votes goes on.
Bobby Kennedy and Abe Ribicoff, the Kennedy floor leader, command forty floor workers by a net of eight direct telephones and high-powered walkie-talkies.
Swerving among the delegates, they plead, urge, cajole for individual votes.
They must pick up twenty-odd votes for their man.
Finally, the calling of the roll began.
Alabama cares.
Johnson, 20 votes.
Kennedy, three and a half.
Johnson listens from the Biltmore.
Alabama, a southern state, gives him great lead.
As the roll continues, Stevenson finds that for all his emotional support, nothing shows in hard votes.
Massachusetts has 41 votes.
John F. Kennedy.
In a secret hideaway, Kennedy marks his own tally sheets.
The big city states are coming in as planned.
Even New York, where a reported Stevenson revolt occurred.
Senator Kennedy, 104 and a half.
Bobby has told his men that if the 700 mark has passed when the state of Washington votes, they can win.
That mark is reached.
Next, West Virginia and Wisconsin, both safe, one in the primary.
Wyoming can give them 763 in the victory.
Teddy Kennedy rushes to Wyoming.
Wyoming vote will make majority to Senator Kennedy.
Behind the screen, Polita, short.
Kennedy speeds from his hideaway to the arena.
Outsiders, governors, mayors, senators, both, gather to form a protective escort for the young new leader.
Tomorrow, in an all-day tussle, he must choose a vice-president.
But tonight is for jubilation.
He now commands all the machinery of the National Democratic Party.
See, A.V. Deekson must march to his direction.
He's that way down the road.
He's that way down the road.
Under the official procedures of this convention, it is not possible for me to give you an answer to your nomination until Friday night.
But I think you can guess what the answer will be.
In Washington, I started to make an apparently second nomination in the stairs shown by Remy in his own pocket.
At the Republican Convention of Pressures, Nixon's chief concern is the man he wanted as Vice President, but who's turned in, Nelson Rockefeller.
Rockefeller, attacking Republican leadership, wants much greater effort in national defense, bolder foreign policies, advanced civil rights.
His demands provoke deep resentments, a clash looms between liberal and conservative Republicans.
And Chicago will be the arena.
The Windy City, most famous convention gathering place in American history, prepares for the 2600 Republican delegates and ultimates with its usual efficiency, precaution, and pretty girls.
Already at early hearings to set the party platform, fighting breaks out.
Rockefeller people press for a bold program.
Conservative Republicans hold back.
Platform Chairman Charles Percy tries to compromise between the two wings, but fails.
Rockefeller staff men of the Sheraton College Hotel, deadlocked in the platform committee, are willing to risk an open clash over national defense and civil rights that can rip the party apart.
Friday, they receive Rockefeller's permission to threaten open floor fights.
That afternoon in New York, Rockefeller will get a telephone call from Washington.
Nixon wants to fly to New York privately and visit him.
Rockefeller will agree.
An hour's flight will bring the Vice President from Washington to New York.
Nixon must head off a conflict in which Republicans will denounce each other.
This could only serve Kennedy.
Driving into the city, Nixon faces a dilemma.
Can Rockefeller's platform demands be satisfied without upsetting the grassroots Republicans in Chicago, who remain unaware of this secret rendezvous?
He will arrive at Rockefeller's home, 810 5th Avenue, at 730 of a summer evening.
Over dinner for an hour and a half in the Triplex apartment, Nixon will urge Rockefeller to be his vice president.
Rockefeller will refuse.
They will then go on to discuss the platform.
Hours later, when they work out an agreement, they will telephone Chairman Percy in Chicago.
Logan in the dark.
The lights trick out the pringling visitors of New York's Central Park.
For three hours, by long-distance phone, Rockefeller and Nixon will tell the platform chairman what they decided here.
Shortly after three, Nixon will leave to return to Washington.
By morning, the newspapers have the story, and Nixon confirms it.
But on the great issues of national security, of foreign policy, and domestic policy, we found basic agreements which were expressed in the statements that the governor released in New York after I had approved it.
In Chicago, the news reaches the platform writers.
Their indignation boils over at this apparent dictation by two absentee leaders.
Senator Barry Goldwater voices their anger.
The unprecedented last-minute attempt to impose upon the Republican Platform Committee platform provisions from a point 1,000 miles away from the convention has caused deep concern on the part of conscientious Republicans attending the convention in Chicago.
A great many working Republicans here in Chicago as delegates to this convention are now asking, if we come to Chicago to nominate a candidate for the presidency, or is our first concern to tailor our entire platform and adjust our historic principles In order to accommodate the conditions laid down by Governor LaFleurette's prerequisites, he is becoming a candidate for the lifeboat entity.
I think it's a surrender to radicals.
Richard and Pat Nixon arrive in Chicago Monday morning, July 27th, opening day of the convention, and are met by cheering partisans.
But these ringing cheers cannot solve the problem of angry delegates who feel themselves humiliated.
Nixon must go before the platform committee and plead for party harmony.
What is a party platform?
Well, it's something when you build it that can't be so narrow that just a very few can get on it, because then you aren't going to have a two-party system in this country.
You're going to have fragmentized parties with everybody having his own little platform with the very few people that he thinks agrees with him on everything.
I have heard some people say, If I don't get what I want on this civil rights thing or on this health thing or the rest, I'm gonna go home and I'm gonna sit it out.
Or if I don't get what I want, I just gotta go vote for the Democrats.
And my point is this, how stupid can you be?
If the Democrats in Los Angeles, with the differences that they have between the two Democratic parties, or three, however the case may be, If, with the differences that they have, and if, what for what Johnson said about Kennedy and Kennedy said about Johnson, those two could get together, then certainly we Republicans can all get together.
Nixon has had his best in Chicago.
In a supreme effort, he lobbies leaders and delegates to this message.
They must preserve party units.
He will chime in themselves for parties.
By Tuesday, the revolt of the...
The compromise platform is tested.
Wednesday is a happy Tuesday for the party.
The smiling lines of the party's white-tee eyes now are alive.
the party of White D. Eisenhower arrived.
Ice power comes from the heart and love of common people, and the streets are choked to see them.
This is the greatest living vocator.
The End
The End Don't know what to do.
Hey pal, I mean you.
Yeah!
Come here and tell the president.
No stop, cupboard bare.
One room, no one there.
Hey pal, no despair.
If you want to shoot a president.
Come on and shoot a president.
Sometimes they think they can't be winners.
But prize often goes to ranked beginners.
How much?
$4.50.
I've a Johnson 32, rubber handles, alcohol.
How much?
Give me.
Hey kid, failed your test.
Dream girl, I'm impressed.
Show her you're the best.
If you can be the president.
You can get the brides with the big blue eyes.
Any little sign of those big blue eyes.
Everybody's got the right to be happy.
Don't say mad life's not as bad as it seems.
If you keep your goal in sight, you can climb to any height.
Everybody's not the right you're there to please.
Deal.
Yes, sir.
I said deal.
You read your card.
It's my card.
I read your card.
Hey, watch it now!
No violence!
Hey, fella, feel like you're a failure, fail upon your tail, your wife run off for good.
Hey, fella, feel misunderstood, come here and fill a person in.
Okay!
Who was the wrong boy, boss?
The grease kept flowing, trouble reached their tummies.
This is to bring you some relief, dearie.
Give us some hay, let's put a cheese on it.
You can eat bread and cheese for anything you want, I will say.
You can eat bread and cheese for anything you want.
Everybody's got the right to be different.
Even though at times they go to a dream Staying for what you want a lot Everybody gets a shot Everybody's got the right to their dreams Yo, baby, looking for a thrill The ferret will it that way.
No, baby, this requires skill.
Okay, you wanna give it a try.
Gee, lady, give the guy from Loom the bumper cover that way.
Please, lady, don't forget the Johnson & O'Boo.
And, yeah, look who it is.
There's our pioneers.
They speak loud and clear.
Everybody's got the right to be happy.
I'll say it enough, it's not a south hazard.
Don't be scared, you won't prevail.
Everybody's free to fail.
No one can be put in jail.
It's the truth.
Freak on streets.
Make your dreams come true.
Be a scholar.
Make a dollar.
Freak on streets.
Means they listen to you.
Crim and holler.
Cram them on a collar.
Free country means you don't have to sit.
That's it.
And put up with the shit.
Everybody got the right to come.
Sunshine.
Everybody got the time.
Gun but maybe one of his feet.
With man, poor man, black, or white.
If your ass was made of light.
Everybody's at low light.
Your dreams.
Everybody's at the light.
To the dreams.
To the dreams.
Good night, and God bless you all.
Good night.
Tapes of the Hour of the Time can be ordered in studio quality serial format.
Takes are $10 for non-members, $8 for members.
Make check or money order payable to any, A-N-N-I-E, and address your envelope to the Intelligence Service, Post Office Box 1420, Show Low, Arizona, 85901.
901. This address will be repeated at the end of this program.
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