The Nation: Cornelia: Determined to Make Do

• Share

(2 of 2)

Although Wallace had beaten Folsom in a primary election for Governor in 1962, he still remained friends with Cornelia and her mother. About a year after Lurleen died, he began calling Cornelia and saying, "I think I'll just come over for a few minutes." To avoid publicity, the two at first dated only at her home or at little-known restaurants. She found him "very appealing and very physical," but also "very Victorian." He still "won't even say the word sexy," she notes, and he will not let her wear her skirts as short as she would like. But otherwise he lets her pursue such high-spirited diversions as driving the pace car for the Indianapolis 500 at 100 m.p.h. She has regretted not being able to see their children (Wallace has four) much while campaigning, but has told them: "Your father's work must come first. You've got to mold your life around his."

Although Cornelia has never interfered with her husband's political operations, she seems tougher than his Governor-wife Lurleen. Learning that one of Wallace's aides was poor-mouthing his chances of becoming President, she braced the man, threatened to get him fired if he expressed such a sentiment again.

When George failed to introduce her as the two met some guests at one political meeting, she turned to a group of reporters and snapped: "Does he think I'm a little doll he can drag around all day and then just pull a string when he wants to?" Yet such moods pass swiftly, and Cornelia seems totally devoted to George and his career. "God made woman for man as a companion," she contends. As two other Southern Governors noted privately last week, George Wallace has an excellent chance for political survival because his companion is Cornelia.