A Letter From The Publisher, Oct. 17, 1960

FOR a chance to observe how the other half is living, the Washington Bureau's two top campaign reporters switched assignments last week. Burt Meyers, who has been covering Vice President Richard Nixon's campaign since January, transferred his luggage to the camp of Senator John Kennedy, and Hugh Sidey, a dogged camp follower of Kennedy's for nine months, joined the Nixon forces.

In both campaign parties, the correspondents encountered similar (and classic) occupational hazards—scrambling for planes, trains and buses, filing stories from odd places at odder hours, seeking out the nearest shower and jiffy laundry. Both men move fast, Sidey and Meyers agree. "When the candidate stops speaking," says Meyers, "it's time to grab your typewriter and start fighting your way to the bus." Neither reporter had any complaint about the manner in which the press is treated: in each camp, speeches are mimeographed, planes chartered, reservations confirmed and wires dispatched with cool efficiency.

There were some vivid differences, however. Meyers found the Kennedy crew more willing to gossip, to impart tidbits from the inner sanctum, than the Nixon staff. "Though Dick Nixon is always friendly and cheerful with the press, and meets them more often in conferences, there is a curtain of privacy around him when he is not on public display." The difference, he suspects, is the difference between being

Vice President and a Senator: "Nixon has been nearer the top over a long period, and has been burned more."

Reporter Sidey found one small comfort in traveling at Nixon's side: "At last I'm allowed to keep a pencil and a comb. It seemed Kennedy kept me stripped of both articles. In the crushes for autographs, Kennedy has never been known to have a pencil of his own." Another fine point, twangs Iowan Sidey: "It is good to get back with those who speak English. After nine months with all those Boston Irishmen, I was beginning to say 'paaak' for 'park,' and 'Americker' for 'America.' "

Both men agree on the different eating habits of the two campaign parties. "In three weeks' campaigning with Dick Nixon, I put on six pounds," laments Meyers. "In five days with Jack Kennedy—including two days of 'rest'—I lost 2½." Sidey's statistics: 8 lbs. lost with Kennedy, three regained with Nixon. The explanation is a matter of scheduling: Nixon campaigns just as hard as Kennedy, but his stops are spaced between long plane hops, which give the press ample time to eat and write; Kennedy travels in short flights, is always behind schedule, and the lunch stop is invariably the first item to be cut from the day's itinerary. A current crack among Kennedy's lean staffers: "The Senator has said that 17 million Americans go to bed hungry at night, and he expects you to do your part."