Front Row at the White House: My Life and Times - Softcover

Thomas, Helen

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0684868091 ISBN 13: 9780684868097

Verlag: Scribner, 2000

Inhaltsangabe

"Thank You, Mr. President."
From the woman who has reported on every president from Kennedy to Clinton comes a privileged glimpse into the White House -- and a telling record of the ever-changing relationship between the presidency and the press.
Helen Thomas wanted to be a reporter from her earliest years. She turned a copy-aide job at the Washington Daily News into a powerful and successful career spanning thirty-seven years and eight U.S. presidents. Assigned to the White House press corps in 1961. Thomas was the first woman to close a press conference with "Thank you. Mr. President." She was also the first female president of the White House Correspondents Association and the first woman member, later president, of the Gridiron Club.
In this revealing memoir, which includes hundreds of anecdotes, observations, and personal details. Thomas looks back on a career spent with presidents at home and abroad, on the ground and in the air. Providing a unique view of the past four decades of presidential history. Front Row at the White House offers a seasoned study of the relationship between the chief executive officer and the press -- a relationship that is sometimes uneasy, sometimes playful, yet always integral to the democratic process.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Helen Thomas is the dean of the White House press corps. The recipient of more than forty honorary degrees, she was honored in 1998 with the inaugural Helen Thomas Lifetime Achievement Award, established by the White House Correspondents' Association. The author of Thanks for the Memories, Mr. President; Front Row at the White House; and Dateline: White House, she lives in Washington, D.C., where she writes a syndicated column for Hearst.

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"THANK YOU, MR. PRESIDENT".

From the woman who has reported on every president from Kennedy to Clinton comes a privileged glimpse into the White House -- and a telling record of the ever-changing relationship between the presidency and the press.

Helen Thomas wanted to be a reporter from her earliest years. She turned a copy-aide job at the Washington Daily News into a powerful and successful career spanning thirty-seven years and eight U.S. presidents. Assigned to the White House press corps in 1961, Thomas was the first woman to close a press conference with "Thank you, Mr. President". She was also the first female president of the White House Correspondents Association and the first woman member, later president, of the Gridiron Club.

In this revealing memoir, which includes hundreds of anecdotes, observations, and personal details, Thomas looks back on a career spent with presidents at home and abroad, on the ground and in the air. Providing a unique view of the past four decades of presidential history, Front Row at the White House offers a seasoned study of the relationship between the chief executive officer and the press -- a relationship that is sometimes uneasy, sometimes playful, yet always integral to the democratic process.

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Chapter 1

Beginnings

A reporter's work involves observing, listening and writing about people, places and events. I've been fortunate in that I've spent most of my time as a reporter writing about people in high places.

But it's difficult for me to write about myself. I am always astonished when I'm out speaking to one group or another about the leaders and prominent figures of our country, the movers and shakers who make it all happen, and someone will inevitably raise a hand and ask the question: "What about you?"

I believe such a query stems from a sincere curiosity about what makes someone want to be a reporter and to make journalism a life's work. The answer is that the excitement associated with the field, the daily rush in one's search for the whys and wherefores and all the other cliches attached to the profession through the years are real.

Glamour has been another word I've heard bandied about to describe my profession, and sometimes it may apply, but believe me, glamour is the last thing I'd think of when I've been standing in a cold, pouring rain from 6:30 A.M. on, held captive with my White House colleagues behind a rope, getting pushed and jostled as we all wait for someone to come out and give us the details of what just went on in the Oval Office.

How many times have I heard, "You meet such interesting people." That's true enough, as is "You lead such an interesting life." But as for anyone else who chooses this kind of work, the real magnet that draws one to such a demanding way to make a living is the irresistible desire to "be there" when the major historic events of our time occur. The driving force is and will ever be an insatiable curiosity about life, people and the world around us.

Let me be quick to point out that I've always felt it's not my life as a White House watchdog that may be interesting, but the lives of those I've been privileged to catalog at the seat of power. And that privilege has carried a huge responsibility. Little did I know when I was growing up that I would choose a profession that was an education every day.

In addition to observing, listening and writing, a reporter learns how to ask the important -- though sometimes unpopular -- questions.

I suppose I displayed signs of wanting to know everything early in my childhood. I remember when a young woman friend came to visit my older sisters and I started asking her about herself, her clothes, where she lived and on and on.

In exasperation, she chided me, "You're so inquisitive."

Well, what could I do but ask my sisters, "What does 'inquisitive' mean?"

"Helen, you ask too many questions," they responded.

I guess some habits are hard to break, but that is one I'm glad I've hung on to over the years. I'm sure any number of presidents will disagree with me on that point.

Strangers still approach me on the street, or in airports, and ask me, "Aren't you a reporter, the one in the front row?" Or they will say to me, "You ask tough questions." And many will add an encouraging, "Keep asking those questions. You're asking them for us."

Perhaps the most colorful comment of that type came in 1988. I was on my way home from work one night and the woman cabdriver turned around and said, "I've been trying to figure out who you are. Aren't you the woman the presidents love to hate?"

General Colin Powell, the former chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, once offered another solution to my penchant for questions. It was Christmas 1992, and he and I were guests at a party given by my friend and fellow enfant terrible Sam Donaldson.

The Washington Post had reported that President-elect Clinton was going to tap Powell as his secretary of state. I spotted Powell at the party and naturally I had to get the story from the subject.

I walked up to Powell and asked, "Is it true that Clinton has asked you to be secretary of state?"

Powell kind of sighed, looked at the person standing on the other side of him, pointed to me and said, "Isn't there a war somewhere we can send her to?"

One of my family's dearest friends, Lily Siegert, who was my sister Isabelle's roommate in nursing school at Deaconess Hospital in Detroit, once reminded me that I told her when I was twelve years old that I intended to become a newspaperwoman. It was the Christmas season and Lily was spending the holidays with us, and as was our custom, we were gathered around the black upright piano in our parlor.

They say there is a little bit of ham in every reporter, and even though I had been shy as a child -- believe it or not -- I wanted to be a star in my close family of nine children. So when it came time for me to perform, I tried to imitate the Broadway singer-actress Fanny Brice and belted out a rendition of "My Man," complete with a catch in my throat and a tear in my voice.

Lily remembers asking me: "Helen, do you intend to become a torch singer when you graduate from school?"

"Oh, no," I replied. "I want to be a newspaper reporter" and added I wanted to be a great one. It's a goal I still aspire to.

Three years later, my choice of career was sealed. I was a sophomore at Eastern High School in Detroit and my English teacher liked a story I'd written and had it published in the school newspaper, The Indian.

Seeing my byline for the first time was an ego-swelling event, and soon afterward I joined the staff of the paper. I loved the ambience, the collegiality and the just plain fun of putting out the weekly. Printer's ink was in my veins, I decided, and I became dedicated to the proposition that this was the life for me. In my last year of high school I was presented with a book of poems, Wine from These Grapes by Edna St. Vincent Millay. It was inscribed: "To Helen Thomas: In appreciation of the long hours spent with the staff, January 26, 1938."

I'm sure many other reporters of my generation and those succeeding got their start this way as well, and the same was true later on when I attended the local city college, Wayne University (now Wayne State University), and worked on the college paper, The Daily Collegian. In fact, I can safely say that working on that paper was my vocation while attending classes and getting a degree became an avocation.

The experiences on those school papers gave me a sense of direction and dedication that have stood me in great stead throughout my life. Little did I dream, however, that I would someday become a White House correspondent covering presidents, oftentimes at eyeball range, with the audacity and insouciance to interrogate them and put them on the spot. Then again, asking questions was never a problem for me.

I am often asked whether I had any role models when I was growing up. Without a moment's hesitation I always reply, "My parents." My teachers inspired me, but my parents were my foundation and my guiding lights.
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My father, George, immigrated to the United States in 1892 from Tripoli, Syria, which later became part of Lebanon. He was seventeen at the time and traveled in steerage. His possessions consisted of a few cents in his pocket and a small pouch he wore around his neck that contained a prayer in Arabic for voyagers. To this day, in my family, we say we're glad our father did not miss the boat.

At Ellis Island, the immigration officer Anglicized his surname, Antonious, to Thomas and sent him on his way to Winchester, Kentucky, where he had relatives. He bought a wagon, loaded it up with fruit, vegetables, linens, candy and tobacco and sold them around the countryside.

In 1901 he returned home and married my mother, Mary, who was seventeen. My sister Kate was born in Syria in 1902, and when she was six months old the family returned to Kentucky.

I will always marvel at the courage,...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Scribner
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2000
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0684868091
• ISBN 13: 9780684868097
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 432
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Simon and Schuster Netherlands BV; info@simonandschuster.nl; ; Herculesplein 96; Utrecht; 3584 AA; Niederlande