How I Came to Stand Beside Connie Chung While Nixon Resigned

Short answer: She was last in line.

Forty years ago today I was wandering around D.C. with too much time on my hands having just recently resigned as director of development for the National Student Lobby due to massive burnout. It was an intense time to be in Washington.

I'd been to some of the Capitol Hill hearings and a co-worker whose parents lived around the corner from the Watergate prosecutors snagged her a couple of tickets to the trial so we got to sit in on a session. The high points, aside from seeing Maureen "Mo" Dean, came while we were standing in line waiting to get into the courtroom. We were right next to a small branching hallway that led to the judges' chambers and "Maximum" John Sirica, himself, stopped on his way in and said "Hello," to us. Then Art Buchwald wandered by and autographed our copy of the Washington Post which we had used as a sign-up sheet while we were still out in the plaza waiting for the courthouse to open up and which everyone getting into line signed in order of arrival and then honored even though the guard announced that he could not and would not enforce it.

The radio said the president intended to make an announcement this evening and the rumors started flying. He was going to resign. He was going to declare martial law. He was going to throw Haldeman and Erlichman under the bus. Tanks and APCs were seen across the bridge in Arlington. He was going to dismiss Congress. The national guard was over by Union Station.

I decided to go to Lafayette Park which was, at that time, still separated from the north lawn of the White House by Pennsylvania Avenue. It turned out not to be an original idea.

There were thousands of people there. Some were protesting, yelling, chanting and carrying homemade signs. Many more were partying and some sections of the park became enveloped in pungent clouds which the police monitored with some amusement and an attitude of "as long as they stay peaceful, we stay out of it," although that didn't prevent a certain amount of paranoia from floating around with the smoke. This is where I heard most of the more outlandish rumors. I seem to recall a few small fireworks, too.

At the south end of the park, right up against Pennsylvania Avenue, and with an unobstructed view of the White House, the TV news crews were setting up. They parked their trucks at the corners and ran cables out to their crews. Each network and major station had its own crew: cameraman, sound man, lighting tech, make-up, talking head. As the sun went down, they set up in a line along the avenue, shoulder to shoulder. That way they each got almost identical background shots of the White House without indicating there was anyone else also standing there broadcasting the exact same thing. Nowadays, there are so many news outlets I doubt they could all fit in that space but back then there were only the three networks (ABC, CBS, NBC), the local channels (both network and independent) and a couple of major channels with ambitions (mostly out of New York) which. although they were network affiliates, felt the need to have their own people there in addition.

One of those people was Connie Chung.

She was still with WCBS out of New York and not yet with the network. And she was just as hot in person as on air even with all the pancake make-up on. She was the last reporter in line on the east end, right next to Dan Rather who was with CBS network and therefor directly competing for the same eyeballs. The klieg lights all in a row made the rest of the evening that much darker. I stood at the end of the line, about three feet away and watched Nixon resign on the same monitor her producer was using.

I wandered away when the resignation was over and the "analysis" began. I'd be surprised if folks in the White House couldn't hear all the cheering and yelling that went up from the park that night. The party continued on for quite a while.

Eventually I went home and, a few months later, with all the adrenaline gone from an exhausted city, moved back to Connecticut.