Nation: Death of an American Original

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But the more he spoke, the less he seemed to accomplish. He was frozen out by the Southern barons, who considered him a scandal. Eventually came the thaw. Georgia Senator Richard Russell called him a "damn fool," but any fool could learn, apparently, if he was tutored by Russell. Humphrey was also coached by that master strategist of the possible, Lyndon Johnson, who saw in the fiery freshman a possible avenue to the liberal support he needed in his quest for the presidency. It was a useful alliance on both sides, and it led to the vice presidency for Humphrey. But the cost was high: growing dependence on an overbearing personality who brooked no opposition and demanded total loyalty.

A new, wiser Humphrey began to emerge. He discovered compromise and maneuver and made friends within the Senate Establishment. That cost him some old friends, as he found himself at odds with more dogmatic liberals. "If I believe in something, I will fight for it with all I have," he explained. "But I do not demand all or nothing. I would rather get something than nothing. Professional liberals want glory in defeat. The hardest job for a politician today is to have the courage to be moderate."

As Humphrey developed his legislative skills, as he changed from one of the least popular members of Congress to one of the most popular, he became a logical contender for the presidency. It became for him, as for others, a near obsession. In 1960 he figured he had a chance. The man to beat was Senator John Kennedy, who was plunging into the primaries to demonstrate his appeal. The battle seesawed until the West Virginia primary, where the Kennedys spent a fortune to overcome the opposition to the candidate's Roman Catholicism. Humphrey's loss finished him off in the campaign. "I feel like an independent merchant competing against a chain store," he said. Always a good loser and fast rebounder, he served as a loyal, effective Senate whip during the Kennedy Administration. It seemed to be the ideal post for his talents and the culmination of his career.

Then came Kennedy's assassination, and Lyndon Johnson looked around for a running mate in 1964. Still the favorite of many liberals, Humphrey was the natural choice for a mistrusted Southerner with links to big oil. But Lyndon flirted with a variety of other possibles and kept Humphrey uncomfortably dangling until the convention was under way. Humphrey was not offended and grabbed the post when it was finally offered. "I weighed this decision not long but carefully," he said. "If there's one quality I do not have, it's reluctance."

Perhaps a little reluctance would have helped. Humphrey was so hungry for the job that he bore the L.B.J. brand with hardly more complaint than the cattle on the ranch. In his autobiography, The Education of a Public Man, Humphrey described how Johnson invited him to the ranch and in the course of the visit ordered him to shoot a deer. The Vice President-elect, who abhorred hunting, did as he was told with obvious distaste. So Johnson told him to bag another deer. Once again, Humphrey obeyed his Commander in Chief. It was to be that kind of relationship for the duration of the Johnson Administration.