Dick.” He told me that spending time doing work you don’t want to be doing is far more stressful and potentially harmful. I took his words to heart as I thought about how this heart attack might have to change my life.
The humor and thoughtfulness of my friends certainly helped lighten my mood during the long hospital stay. James Naughton, a well-known reporter for the New York Times , had covered the 1976 presidentialrace. He loved a good prank and was constantly playing practical jokes on his colleagues. Several of them came to me just after the election with an idea for a prank we could pull on Naughton. We convinced him to travel to the Catoctin Mountains in Maryland for what he thought would be an exclusive interview at Camp David with President Ford. We in fact set it up for a time when the president wasn’t in residence at the camp. Then we all enjoyed a good laugh when we heard the Marines at the Camp David gates had turned away a crazy reporter who had tried to gain entry to the presidential retreat. A few days after my heart attack, Lynne came into the hospital room laughing and handed me the one-line telegram from Jim. It said, “I didn’t do it. Naughton.”
Another dear friend, Foster Chanock, a brilliant young man who had worked for me in the White House when I was chief of staff, spent a good deal of time calling all of our mutual friends telling them not to even think about sending flowers. Send campaign contributions, he told them.
It may surprise some, but I wasn’t viewed as the most conservative candidate in the race. Most thought Ed Witzenburger, who had been the Air Force liaison to the Senate when Barry Goldwater was on the Senate Armed Services Committee, was more conservative than I was. Before my heart attack, I’d heard that Goldwater was planning a trip to Wyoming and thinking of endorsing Ed. The last thing I needed was a nationally known conservative endorsing one of my opponents. Before I had my heart attack, I’d placed a call to Dean Burch, one of Goldwater’s closest aides. I knew Dean from my time in the White House when he’d been a counselor to both Presidents Nixon and Ford. I told him I knew Goldwater was coming to Wyoming and asked if the former senator might avoid endorsing anyone in this hotly contested primary. Dean didn’t make any commitment to me, but he heard me out.
Three days after my heart attack, Barry Goldwater came to Wyoming. He stopped in Cheyenne, and he didn’t endorse anyone. I am sure my call to Dean may have helped, but I imagine the fact that I was lying in a hospital bed having suffered a heart attack seventy-two hoursbefore his arrival was also a pretty big factor in his decision not to endorse my opponent that day.
When I was released from the hospital on June 29, I knew that I wanted to continue the campaign. Dr. Davis told my hometown paper, the Casper Star Tribune , “The prognosis is excellent for Dick’s full and complete recovery. After a period of rest and recuperation at home he can expect to be able to resume a full and active schedule.” I spent most of my rest and recuperation in the shade of a large spruce tree in the backyard of our house in Casper. A good friend had just finished working with President Nixon on his memoirs and got me an advance copy, which I read while I thought about what to do next. Looking back thirty-five years later through the medical records from that period, I found something I hadn’t remembered. Both Dr. Davis and my hometown cardiologist, Dr. Wes Hiser, had noted their concerns about my continuing the campaign. Dr. Davis wrote:
He and his family have been terribly concerned about the congressional campaign, and whether he should quit or not. It was my own personal feeling that it would probably be wisest to drop this at the present time, but I certainly didn’t press this on them at all. He understands that he has at least a two months convalescence without any active campaigning and it is