Covering the (primary campaign in 1983) campaign established me as a political reporter rather than merely a black journalist who had joined the Times to cover “black” issues. The transformation was important: I was multifaceted and could take on the big-thought and big-picture stories. This repositioning did wonders for my confidence and ultimately my career.

Still, after my umpteenth plane ride to my umpteenth city, the glamour of a campaign beat began to give way to the drudgery of routine: From the hotel to the bus to the plane to a new city, on the bus to the next event, then back on the bus to the plane and next stop. Hotel rooms looked the same, speeches sounded the same, and one small city morphed into another.

Fortunately, I had connected with (Howell) Raines, thanks to our frequent conversations, and comparing notes with him was the highlight of many of my days. We often had the same take on developments and seldom disagreed on approaches to stories. Raines was leading a team of reporters who included Phil Gailey and Fay Joyce, and I worked closely with them. The camaraderie kept me going; in fact, I spent weeks on the road at a time, not asking for time off and not putting in for comp time, as was my right.

the basics

 

'My Times in Black and White: Race and Power at the New York Times’

 

By Gerald M. Boyd, Robin D. Stone (Afterword)

 

List price: $26.95
Publication date: Feb. 01
Publisher: Chicago Review Press
432 pages

Another highlight was Jacqueline Adams, a correspondent for CBS. Jackie, who was also covering the campaigns, was smart, polished, and had an air of refined elegance. Boston bred and Harvard educated, Jackie was at ease in Washington’s professional and social circles. She seemed extremely secure in herself and had clear goals for her life and career, and she let it be known that she wanted a husband or, as she called it, “a kindred spirit.” Jackie and I spent long hours talking, first about politics, then about ourselves. By the time the Democratic National Convention headed to San Francisco in July, we were seen as a couple.

On the last night of the convention, Raines hosted a dinner for Times reporters and editors who had worked the campaign. He acknowledged the work that Fay Joyce and I had done by giving us each an expensive pen. It was a small gesture, but one not common at the Times. It meant that I had met his test of what a political reporter should be.

Further validation came when I got the nod to follow (Walter) Mondale, the newly minted Democratic nominee, when he left San Francisco for vacation in his home state of Minnesota. Just eight months after I joined the paper as an urban affairs reporter, I was traveling with the man who had a shot at becoming president. In the upcoming general election, I remained on the campaign, covering George Bush.

Unlike my work with the Democratic candidates, traveling with Bush brought sanity to life on the road. Aboard Air Force Two, there was no waiting on taxiways, no runway delays. No scrambling for a quick bite to eat. When we got on the plane, meals were waiting for us, prepared by air force stewards. They reflected the tastes of the candidates; Bush enjoyed Mexican food, Reagan, meat loaf and apple pie.

Each morning we had baggage call at a civilized hour. When we arrived at the first-class hotel where we would spend our time, our keys would be waiting and our bags already in our rooms. Staff whisked us from one location to the next in a motorcade that never stopped for a light. Anything we needed, a telephone, a phone number, or the help of an aide, was almost immediately available.

Traveling with Bush

White House photo

Boyd quickly learned that then Vice President George H.W. Bush disliked The New York Times, but knew the press was a necessary part of a campaign.

This was my introduction to George H. W. Bush — or at least the campaign he was running with Reagan. In all honesty, covering the incumbent vice-presidential candidate was a snore. The Republicans were in a commanding position from the start, bolstered by Reagan’s enormous popularity and a strong sense that the economy was improving. They were also strong on defense, leaving the Democrats with slim chances.

While the president took Air Force One to the biggest and best political events, the vice president took Air Force Two to whatever was left. Small towns in big states like Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Michigan, or big towns in small states like Wyoming and South Dakota. Bush’s role was to attack the Mondale-Geraldine Ferraro ticket but not to make bold policy pronouncements — or news. He did both well. Often, my editors relegated my dispatches from Bush campaign stops into roundups or short stories inside the paper. With the pressure off, I used the time to get to know the man. It helped that all conversations aboard the presidential and vice-presidential planes were off the record unless otherwise acknowledged.

I watched how he ended his days of campaigning with a dry martini or two — followed by a glass of milk. The milk, I knew, was for an ulcer. His Rolodex was as thick as some telephone books, and he turned to it often. His energy and enthusiasm seemed boundless, and he fully embraced the role of Reagan’s No. 2. He could be incredibly thin skinned, especially when his public service credentials were questioned.

Although Bush was born to privilege — his father was a onetime senator from Connecticut and he was educated at Yale — he tried mightily to be one of the boys. Joe-six-pack he wasn’t. He valued loyalty and surrounded himself with aides who were more comfortable taking orders than generating ideas. He despised leaks and never forgave those who would commit such a sin.

Our relationship was strained at first. Bush avidly resented the mainstream press, and he regarded the Times as one of his top enemies. I knew of the tension, but I also knew that, like other politicians, the vice president needed the paper to get his message out and to help shape public opinion about his leadership abilities. For him, this was all the more important since he was considering a run for president in 1988. After a while, it became clear that Bush and his staff were sizing me up, too.