Flight of Three Presidents

Old animosities fall away on a historic mission of mourning

There had been nothing quite like it in American history: three former Presidents sharing the cabin of an Air Force jet as they flew to the funeral of Egyptian President Anwar Sadat in Cairo. From talks with many of the dignitaries aboard the plane, TIME'S Washington Contributing Editor Hugh Sidey put together the following account of their extraordinary mission of mourning.

By mid-afternoon on the day of Sadat's assassination, White House aides had decided that Ronald Reagan could not risk attending the services. The hazard to Vice President George Bush might be just as grave. Out of necessity came a unique act of national unity and historical significance: the launching of the plane of Presidents toward Cairo.

Jimmy Carter and Richard Nixon had already signaled the White House that they wanted to attend the funeral. Reagan decided to make it a full house. White House staffers tracked down Gerald Ford in New York, and he eagerly signed on. Then the White House and State Department began the frantic and difficult job of selecting the rest of the official party and assigning the 52 seats for guests and crew on board SAM (for Special Air Missions) 26000. (The code name Air Force One is reserved to any Air Force plane with the incumbent President aboard.) The aircraft was the same Boeing 707 on which Lyndon Johnson was sworn in, and which carried the body of John Kennedy from Dallas to Washington, D.C. Pleas for space came in by the dozens, including one from

Plains, Ga., for Rosalynn Carter. Wives had initially not been invited, but Rosalynn felt so strongly about Sadat that the Carters said they would travel to Cairo on their own if there was no space for her. A seat for Rosalynn was set aside. There was also one for 14-year-old Sam Brown, of Liberty, S.C., who had written a touching letter to Sadat.

The Air Force dispatched two Jet-Stars and a C-9 transport to gather the Presidents. Joe Canzeri, the White House's wizard on transportation arrangements, began a frantic 48 hours of orchestration. Secretary of State Alexander Haig was official leader of the party, so he got the "Presidential Suite" on board 26000 ("The diplomatic way out," joked Haig). Irony flashed through the minds of the arrangers. Two cabins behind Haig would ride Nixon and former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, for whom Haig had worked as a lesser aide. Such is the span of fleeting power.

First behind Haig's suite came the lounge assigned to staff. The Presidents came next in a cabin with two tables. Nixon and Ford were placed side by side facing Kissinger and Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger. On the other side of the aisle were the Carters and Mr. and Mrs. Ashraf Ghorbal. Egypt's wise Ambassador to the U.S. was heading home on the most somber journey he had ever undertaken. In other seats were military and diplomatic dignitaries, Senators and Congressmen and a three-man press pool.

They came together for their flight late Thursday afternoon. Canzeri made certain that the Presidents landed in Washington at precisely the same time, and shared a helicopter to the White House for Reagan's eloquent farewell.

"One of the finest speeches I've ever heard," praised Ford, speaking of the brief, touching text crafted finally by Reagan from material assembled by his staff.

Then they hurried back onto the chopper to lift off for Andrews Air Force Base. Looking down at the White House, Nixon, struggling to break the ice, said, "I kind of like that house down there, don't you?" Old angers and hatreds were beginning to fall away.

Meantime, Air Force Lieut. Colonel Monty Stokes, 26000's pilot, glanced over his gleaming ship. It had been plied with Turtle Wax, polished, cleaned, fueled and stocked. Terry Yamada, the chief steward, remembered that Ford liked butter-pecan ice cream, and he requisitioned a couple of quarts. He added some Don Diego cigars for Nixon, a secret indulgence. Yamada made certain that he had enough footies and eye masks for the 23-hr. 35-min. round-trip journey.

Crab claws, beef tenderloins and breakfast eggs were stacked in the galley.

To give the Presidents a touch of the old class, Canzeri had rustled up matches with their names printed on the covers along with the Presidential Seal. Briefing books on the funeral (unclassified) and on the political dangers following Sadat's death (classified) were neatly laid out in the seats. At 7:45 p.m.

SAM 26000 lumbered into the air.

From their seats, Illinois Senator Charles Percy and Sol Linowitz, Carter's former Middle East envoy, peered forward, curious about the Presidents.

There had been a detectable coolness between Ford and Carter, even between Ford and Nixon. Suddenly Carter pulled on his beige cardigan sweater. Ford stood up in shirt sleeves. Nixon joined them in his blue suit. As a White House photographer began to click away, Nixon ran interference with self-deprecating one-liners: "They don't want pictures with me."

But they did. Congressman Clement Zablocki of Wisconsin and William Broomfield of Michigan asked for autographs.

Rosalynn toured the cabin shaking hands. Nixon was meticulously polite to her. But he seemed defensive as he walked up and down the aisle. Eyes carefully shrouded, looking right and left. Ready to reach for a hand to shake, but only if it was proffered. He would not force himself on others. Yet beneath the reserve he was clearly jubilant. He was back where it counted, at the center of things.

One observer watched him with a kind of tender contempt. How could he--and yet why not? Nixon had been disgraced, the other two had been turned down by the electorate; all, for those few hours, were sipping again at the cup of power.

It went to all three presidential heads.

As they stood in the aisle, they began to call each other Dick, Jerry and Jimmy ("The first time," laughed Carter later). Nixon had a martini, maybe two, and gulped peanuts by the handful. Ford, wearing a red golf sweater now, had his pipe. As the talk mounted, Carter perched on the arm of a seat. Everyone shared Sadat stories. The universal respect and affection for the murdered leader was truly remarkable. The Presidents next turned to the dangers ahead in the Middle East. The conversation swung to the proposed sale of AW ACS planes to Saudi Arabia. The discussion became curiously vehement, with each of the Presidents emphasizing his support. If the Senate turned down the AW ACS deal, they agreed, America's relationship with the Saudis would undergo a dangerous change.

At one point, Al Haig came back and quietly sought out Kissinger. Just as he boarded the plane, Haig explained, he had been handed cables from the U.S. embassy in Jidda, wondering about giving a dinner for Nixon. My God, asked Haig, was Nixon going to Saudi Arabia? By this time, White House Aide Mike Deaver was calling 26000 with the same question. Kissinger agreed to ask discreetly what was going on. Ever the conspirator, Nixon threw his hands in the air. He was not sure, he claimed. He had invitations to visit several nations in the Middle East. Whether the Saudis would let him come had not yet been resolved.

It was plain to see that at the center of the tiny cylindrical stage hurtling through the sky over the Atlantic was none other than the rascal of the age, Richard Milhous Nixon. The other two Presidents watched him. Jimmy Carter could not contain his curiosity. Former Press Secretary Jody Powell noticed that Carter stayed with Nixon. They talked about China and some of the personalities in Washington ("How wicked that must have been!" chortled one witness).

House Majority Leader James Wright studied the three Presidents with a bit of Texas melancholia. Twenty years earlier he had gone to a small Baptist church in Bonham to say a farewell to a great American, Sam Rayburn. On that day, Harry Truman, Dwight Eisenhower, John Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson had shared a cramped pew. Wright had never forgotten the moment, and thought he would never see anything like it again. But here before him was a similar scene. Nixon came to Wright's seat and shook his hand. Then he reached back into that crammed cerebrum and recalled the time when Wright had sponsored a resolution calling for a peaceful settlement of the Viet Nam War.'Nixon was still grateful.

Common interests arose. The Presidents talked of their libraries (Ford's, and Nixon's and Carter's to be), of writing books and just living as an ex-President (pretty good). All three men seemed to swell a bit as the evening wore on. Warmth replaced coolness. Each man, in his own way, sensed that he was back on a stage, that he could make a little more favorable history for himself.

Whispering her thoughts to a fellow passenger, Rosalynn Carter expressed genuine surprise at how nice Nixon was. Henry Kissinger decided again what a terrible shame it was that Ford had not been reelected. Sol Linowitz worried that if he dozed off, great events might happen at his side and he would never know.

A scholar in the party concluded that there indeed was "a community of former Presidents." Proud and independent men, they could not normally treat one another as close friends. But under these extraordinary conditions they could share their special burdens and experiences in a way appreciated only by the small club. Why, one observer asked himself, should they not meet every month or two with .Reagan and just talk the night away? What benefit to each other, and perhaps to the nation as well? But when the flight ended, they would once again be forced to be wary of each other. A shame.

Ford talked Michigan politics with Broomfield. Nixon toured the world horizon with Senate Foreign Relations Committee Chairman Percy. They covered NATO (more defense needed) and Japan (the same) and the Palestinian issue (it lies at the heart of any Middle East peace). Nixon suddenly grabbed Percy's hand. "Chuck Percy has stood by the Presidents in foreign policy," he said, forgetting old differences. Ford seconded the tribute. Kissinger felt good. The Presidents were all saying the right things, he thought.

A ripple of concern was felt about security. One man admitted that for the first time in his political life, his family had not wanted him to go on such a mission. All three Presidents had bulletproof vests. Some other dignitaries did not. (On the day of the funeral, Percy climbed into a limousine with Nixon, Ford and Kissinger and noted that the three were sitting like penguins. "My, but you look erect," said the unsuspecting Percy. "Where's your flak vest?" he was asked. It suddenly dawned on him that between him and any bullet were only two layers of Brooks Bros.' best tailoring. "Let me sit behind you," Percy said wryly.)

SAM 26000 dropped out of the sky at Torrejdn Airbase near Madrid to refuel. As night vanished and Egypt with its sorrow appeared, some of the magic of the assembly was dispelled. At a dinner for the American delegation in Cairo's El Salam Hotel, the three Presidents seemed to revert to form in their toasts. Carter talked of his personal relationship with Sadat. Ford spoke straightforwardly as a representative of the American people. Nixon gave one of his oblique rambling tributes to the banquet waiters and servants, those not famous or "infamous." Protocol had seated Kissinger next to 14-year-old Sam Brown. With a mixture of humor and wounded pride, the former Secretary of State remarked that he had not really traveled 13,000 miles to talk to,a kid, delightful as he might be. Kissinger was discreetly reseated.

At the funeral ceremonies the three Presidents had to share the sun with other luminaries. Linowitz, trying to avoid being pushed into the ribs of a President, stepped onto the royal shoes of Britain's Prince Charles. He marveled at what a boy from Trenton, N.J., was doing there.

When the Americans reassembled after the funeral ceremonies for the long flight back home, Nixon was off on his singular mission. The circle of three broken, Ford and Carter were ready for their joint press conference. There was shock in Jerusalem and surprise in Washington when they agreed that sooner or later the U.S. would have to deal with the Palestine Liberation Organization, as the search for Middle East peace resumed in the wake of Sadat's death. Jody Powell found himself running the Xerox machine as in days of yore. And some travelers thought they saw in Rosalynn's eyes a longing for the old grandeur. So it went, on the most remarkable jet journey of our time.

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