This is the obit running in The Energy Daily
---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: White House Chronicle
Date: Sat, Mar 29, 2014 at 11:22 AM
Subject: Re: Schlesinger
Always
His Own Man: a Remembrance of Jim Schlesinger
By
Llewellyn King
James
Rodney Schlesinger was assistant director of the Bureau of the
Budget, chairman of the Atomic Energy Commission, director of the
CIA, secretary of defense, secretary of energy , chairman of The
MITRE Corporation, managing director of Lehman Brothers Holdings
Inc., and my friend. He was a colossus in Washington; a great Sequoia
who towered in the forest.
Schlesinger,
who died on Thursday, more than anyone I've known in public life
including presidents, prime ministers and industrial savants, knew
who he was. From that came a special strength: he didn't care what
people thought of him. What he did care about were the great issues
of the time.
He
was a man of granite, steel and titanium and he could take abuse and
denunciation – as he did, most especially, as the first secretary
of energy. He also had extraordinary intellectual ability. No name,
time or date evaded him, and he understood complex issues, from
geopolitical balances to the physics of the nuclear stockpile.
Les
Goldman, a key member of Schlesinger's circle in government and in
life, said his genius was in capturing huge quantities of information
and synthesizing it into a course of action. He also had phenomenal
energy, going to work very early in the morning and staying up late
at night. During his tenure at the Department of Energy, he had to
testify on Capitol Hill almost daily, so he checked in at 5 a.m. to
get the work done. His relaxation was birdwatching.
Schlesinger
was a great public servant; someone who venerated public service
without regard to its rewards. He drove a VW Beetle for years and
lived in a modest house in the suburbs. Even as secretary of defense,
a post from which he could order up airplanes, ships and limousines,
he kept an extraordinary modesty. Pomp was not for him.
But
he was a tough customer. Schlesinger spared none with his invective
and regarded the creation of enemies as part of the normal course of
getting things done.
And
getting things done was what he was good at -- rudely awakening
somnolent bureaucrats, angering whole industries and unsettling
cliques, as he did at the CIA. Wherever he was in charge, he applied
his boot to the sensitive hind regions of the complacent, the lazy
and the inept. He punctured the egos of the self-regarding and kept
military men waiting, tapping their feet and examining their watches.
Once
at the CIA, Schlesinger and I were engaged in a long conversation
about the British Empire – a favorite subject – when his aide,
who had been hovering, came back for the second or third time and
said, “Sir, the admiral has been waiting for an hour already.”
“Good,” said Schlesinger. Then, as an aside to me, he said, “It's
good for admirals to wait.”
On
another occasion, when I was part of a press party traveling with
Schlesinger after the opening of the Strategic Petroleum Reserve site
in a salt cavern in Louisiana, Schlesinger sent his trusted and
well-liked press chief John Harris back to the reporters to say that
Schlesinger wanted to talk to me. I went forward to the executive
cabin, where the secretary of energy was playing the harmonica.
“I'm
taking requests,” he said.
I
blurted out the few songs I knew, and he played on -- and on and on.
After
about half an hour, Harris came forward again to say that the other
reporters, including Steve Rattner, who was to become a billionaire
Wall Street investor, but was then a reporter with The New York
Times' Washington bureau, wanted to know why I was getting an
exclusive interview.
They
wouldn't be mollified with the assurance that I was listening to the
great man play the harmonica. Rattner in particular, believed that I
had some big story that I'd publish in The Energy Daily and
embarrass him and The Times.
The
Energy Daily, too, had involved Schlesinger. I reported on
nuclear power for the trade publication Nucleonics Week, which
is how I had met him at the Atomic Energy Commission. But at night, I
worked as an editor at The Washington Post. Quite suddenly,
President Richard Nixon nominated Schlesinger to replace Richard
Helms as director of the CIA, and The Post op-ed pages were
flooded with articles about Helms, but not a word about the new man
in Langley. I asked Meg Greenfield, the storied editorial page
editor, why she didn't publish something about Schlesinger. No one,
she said, knew anything about Schlesinger.
I
avowed as I did, and the result was a longer-than-usual piece that
she published on a Saturday. It became the “go to” archival
resource for a generation of journalists writing about Schlesinger.
But it cost me my day job, as my editor didn't think I should be
writing in The Washington Post. So I started what became The
Energy Daily.
The
trick to friendship with James Schlesinger was disputation. He'd like
people he could talk to and especially argue with. I argued -- over
Scotland's most famous product -- about American exceptionalism; the
uses of force; the limits to power; the Gulf War; the Saudis; obscure
points of grammar, as he was strict grammarian who always found time
to telephone me, and later e-mail me, to correct my slippages.
We
argued for more than 40 years and loved every syllable of it.
We
also argued vigorously over Bill Clinton. I was Schlesinger's guest
at the legendary Alfalfa Club dinner in Washington and I fell into
conversion with the president, Bill Clinton. When I returned to the
table, looking pleased, Schlesinger exclaimed, “You've been talking
to him!” -- as though this was some huge betrayal.
He
also didn't like Henry Kissinger and Gerald Ford, the latter having
fired him.
Schlesinger
admired what he called “intellectual structure.” But I could
never get him to define it.
Close
to the end of Schlesinger's life, my wife, Linda Gasparello, and he
were engaged in a complicated and loving dispute over Henry II and
Eleanor of Provence. He loved that kind of thing.
Journalists
are ill-advised to care too deeply for the men they write about.
Schlesinger was my treasured exception.
Llewellyn
King is executive producer and host of “White House Chronicle” on
PBS. His e-mail is lking@kingpublishing.com.
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