The Presidents

Chapter Thirty-Six - The Genius Who Taped Himself Out of the Job

Section 36 of 46


CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The Genius Who Taped Himself Out of the Job


SO.
NIXON.
BORN
in 1913 in California.
Quaker upbringing. Poor family. Grew up scrappy.

He wasn’t born charming.
He built himself.
Brick by brick.
Sharp mind. Steel will. Chip on his shoulder the size of Alaska.

By the time he reached politics, he was known as “Tricky Dick.”
Because he was relentless. Strategic. And didn’t care about looking pretty—only about winning.

He served in Congress.
Fought Communism like a one-man Cold War.
Became Eisenhower’s VP in the 50s.
Ran for president in 1960… lost to JFK in a razor-thin, televised heartbreaker.
Ran for governor of California in ‘62… lost again.
Gave a bitter press conference and said:

“You won’t have Nixon to kick around anymore.”

Everybody counted him out.

And then—he came back.

In 1968, Nixon won the presidency.
And when he got in?
He got to work.

  • Ended the military draft
  • Created the EPA
  • Passed environmental laws
  • Opened diplomatic relations with China (huge Cold War shift)
  • Signed arms limitation treaties with the USSR
  • Pulled U.S. troops out of Vietnam
  • Oversaw desegregation of Southern schools

Like it or not?
Nixon knew how to move pieces.
He was a policy animal.

And in 1972, he won reelection in a historic landslide.
49 out of 50 states.
He was on top of the world.

And then…

Watergate.

A break-in at the Democratic National Committee headquarters.
At first? Seemed small.
Then the questions started.
Then the cover-ups began.
Then the tapes surfaced—recordings Nixon had made of himself in the White House.

He taped himself conspiring. Lying. Obstructing justice.

Congress began impeachment proceedings.
The Supreme Court ordered him to release the tapes.
And the nation finally heard the truth.

On August 8, 1974, Nixon addressed the nation and said:

“I shall resign the presidency effective at noon tomorrow.”

The only U.S. president to ever resign.

He left office in disgrace.
Gerald Ford—his VP—pardoned him a month later.

Nixon spent the rest of his life writing, reflecting, trying to rebuild his reputation.

By the time he died in 1994, some had forgiven him.
Some never did.
But everyone remembered him.

So here’s to Richard Nixon.
The comeback king.
The foreign policy mastermind.
The man who taped his own downfall.

Rest in paradox, Dick.
You were brilliant, broken—
and unforgettable.