♪ ♪ ♪ (theme music playing) ♪ RUBENSTEIN: Hello, I'm gonna be in conversation today with Doris Kearns Goodwin, who is a Pulitzer Prize winning historian and biographer of many great American figures, including presidents Lyndon Johnson, Teddy Roosevelt, President Franklin Roosevelt, Abraham Lincoln.

And most recently, we're gonna talk to her about her new book, An Unfinished Love Story, Doris Kearns Goodwin book about her love affair with her late husband, Richard Goodwin.

Thank you very much for being here with us.

GOODWIN: I'm very glad to be here with you.

RUBENSTEIN: Now, I knew I was gonna do this today, and some other people knew this as well, and so I got a letter today from a fan of yours.

Uh, used to be a fan at least.

And, um... (laughter) ...let me read it, if I could.

This came to me, uh, and he asked that I read it to you.

It's from, uh, Abraham Lincoln.

(laughter) "Dear Doris, I just finished reading your latest book.

Of course, it is extremely well-written and a real page turner, but I'm a bit disappointed with it.

When you were working on Team of Rivals, you told everyone, including me, that you had fallen in love with me.

And that love affair went on for 10 years.

But I now know you were actually in love with another man, and a much longer, period.

And you never told me.

I forgive you.

I can see from your book why you loved Richard.

In his four score and six years on this earth, he had extraordinary accomplishments using to the fullest his beautiful mind, and he made you so happy over so many decades.

I guess I was only a one-decade man.

I hope as you go forward, you will not little note, but rather long remember your other loves like Teddy and Franklin, and of course, me.

All of us here want you to know that our love of you by you and for you shall never perish from the earth.

(laughter) (audience applause) So... um, so, uh, Doris, let's talk about why you thought that 300 boxes of books, papers and so forth would likely lead to a, a book.

Um, how did your husband come to be such a pack rat?

GOODWIN: I, I wish I knew.

I mean, these books and boxes and files and memos and journals and diaries schlepped around with us for over 40 years.

And they went from one house, they went to storage, they finally came to the big barn in our, in our big house.

And finally, after all that time, Dick wouldn't look at them.

He just felt that the '60s had ended so sadly with the death of Robert Kennedy, who he was with when he died, on Martin Luther King's death, and the assassinations, and the riots in the streets and the campus violence, that he just wanted to look ahead.

He didn't wanna look back when I had seen what was in these boxes a little bit, so I couldn't wait till he opened them.

Finally, one day he comes floating down the steps in the morning singing, "Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin'" from, from Oklahoma.

And I said, "What's going on?"

He said, "Well, I finally decided it's now or never."

And he said, "I've turned 80 and if I have any wisdom to dispense..." This is the way he talked, "If I have any wisdom to dispense, I better start dispensing now."

So we made a pact that every weekend we would go through the boxes, but the important thing is we decided to go through them chronologically and almost trying to suspend knowledge of what would come next.

So, as we went through the boxes of the JFK, because he was, worked in the JFK White House, was in the campaign, we'd sort of forget that he was gonna die in '63.

When we went through the Great Society where he was a chief speechwriter for LBJ, we were gonna forget that the war was gonna escalate.

And similarly with Bobby Kennedy, when he was with him in the campaign, forget that he would die.

And it really became the last great adventure of our life.

Day after day, and those weekends, I will treasure them the rest of my life.

RUBENSTEIN: Now, when did you meet your husband?

GOODWIN: I didn't meet him until after Lyndon Johnson.

He had left Lyndon Johnson in 1965, and I got there in 1967.

So one day in 1972, I was a young assistant professor at Harvard and we heard that Dick Goodwin was coming into the building, which was our faculty building.

It was this little yellow house at 78 Mount Auburn Street.

And there was a buzz of excitement because we knew who he was.

We'd heard that he had worked for all these people in the s- in the '60s, including McCarthy in New Hampshire before Bobby Kennedy.

And I heard from an acquaintance that he was kind of captivating and, and brash and arrogant.

He sounded really exciting to me.

So, I'm in my study and, um, there are chairs reserved for my two Ts and all of a sudden he just plops himself in and sit down in the chair and says, "So you're a graduate student, right?"

I said, "No, no, I'm an assistant professor."

And I told him all the things I was teaching and he teased.

He knew that.

He said, "I, I know that.

I know you worked for Lyndon after I left."

And then we started talking that afternoon.

We talked about everything under the sun, not only LBJ and JFK, but the Red Sox and sex and rhythm and science.

And then we went out to dinner that night and I came home that night and told friends of mine that I'd met the man I wanted to marry.

So that's how it started.

RUBENSTEIN: Did he, uh, did he tell you that he came with 300 boxes worth of books?

(laughter) GOODWIN: It was... It was a new, a, a new finding as, as our life went on.

RUBENSTEIN: So for those who don't know about Richard Goodwin, he was an incredibly gifted speech writer for both John Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson and Robert Kennedy and Eugene McCarthy.

But became famous initially after he went to Harvard Law School, graduated first in his class, president of the Harvard Law Review, and then he went in the military briefly, but then he went to work for John Kennedy and the campaign.

How did he go from being president of the Harvard Law Review, which is a great position, but usually, uh, you don't wind up working a presidential campaign?

How did he do that?

GOODWIN: I mean, what happened really was that he had been just known as one of these bright young things in Washington, and he had met Kennedy briefly, and Kennedy was just taking, I think, a list of people that he might wanna think about someday.

And it turned out when he decided to run for the presidency, he needed a second speechwriter under Ted Sorensen.

So one day, Ted Sorensen called Dick while he was working on the Quiz Show investigation.

Some of you may remember the "$64,000 question" in '21.

My husband was the guy who discovered that they were corrupt, that they would be given the questions ahead of time.

A movie was made about it by Robert Redford, actually, and my husband was played by Rob Morrow.

He loved the movie so much, he was the center.

Redford said to him when he said, "What did you think of the movie?"

Said, "How could I not love the movie?

I'm played by a handsome young guy.

I am the moral center of the movie, and I get the last line of the movie."

GOODWIN: But anyway, so what happened is, while he was doing that, he got a call from Sorensen, said, "Would you like to try your hand at a speech for JFK?"

And he was still just a senator.

He wasn't yet, you know, announced that he was running for president.

So he tried out a speech.

We found it in the boxes, this maiden speech.

It wa... As Dick read it, it wasn't that great after all, but he said, "It... It got me."

It was kind of bombastic.

But what happened is he, then asked to do another one and another one.

He got the job.

Little did he know then that it was actually a contest, that 30 other people had been asked to do the same thing.

He said he would've been much more nervous if he had known that.

RUBENSTEIN: But Kennedy won the, uh, the election and then he went to work at the White House initially, your husband did?

GOODWIN: He did indeed.

RUBENSTEIN: Future husband.

GOODWIN: He did.

RUBENSTEIN: And then he we, later went to the State Department.

GOODWIN: That wasn't a happy thing.

RUBENSTEIN: Because he had come up with the concept of the "Alliance for Progress," which was a way to improve our relations with Latin America and then ultimately though people in the White House were either jealous of his relationship to the President.

And so he kind of went to the State Department for a while, is that right?

GOODWIN: He felt he was evicted from the White House.

What happened is that he had met with Che Guevara, Castro's right-hand man at a conference.

And he was- wasn't supposed to talk to him, but he decided when he went to a party and Che Guevara was there and said, "Can we talk?"

He went into the room and talked.

And then it was a great memo that he wrote back to JFK about what might be a modus vivendi between Cuba and the United States.

Secret memo, terrific.

But the right wing they decided that he was like a little kid playing fire with foreign policy.

So JFK had to move him to the State Department.

He hated being there so much that he went over to the Peace Corps.

He just moved from one place to the other, but always leaving a mark behind, as I say.

RUBENSTEIN: So as we talk, it's, uh, roughly exactly 60 years since John Kennedy was assassinated.

Uh, November 22nd, 1963.

Uh, your husband was where when the assassination occurred, and how did he get involved with the burial and all the events associated with the, uh, burial?

GOODWIN: You know, the, the crazy thing that happened was that at the end, in the fall, JFK wanted to bring him back to the White House.

And they created a fabulous position for him.

He was gonna be a special consultant on the arts.

And he was very excited about it 'cause he was gonna make the arts not just something for cultural people who were n- accustomed to having theater and, and music and art, but rather bring it to rural areas, to people who didn't normally have that concept.

And he wanted to make the arts for JFK what conservation was for Teddy Roosevelt.

So on November 22nd, the day that JFK died, it had leaked to the New York Times that he was gonna have this big special position and that, that he called down to Texas and Kennedy told him, "Write the statement this morning.

Let's announce it in our own way, rather than just the way the New York Times was announcing it."

So he was home that whole morning writing his, his own speech, his own announcement of his position.

And he called in at about two o'clock in the afternoon to say, I'm ready to send it to the secretary.

She said, "Oh, Mr.

Goodwin, haven't you heard?

The president was shot in Texas."

So he immediate- his immediate instinct was to go to the White House, and he found himself there with a small team that was preparing for the funeral and preparing for two of the wishes that, that Jackie Kennedy had.

One was that she wanted the East Room to be laid out as it was for Abraham Lincoln.

And Dick remembered that there was a cabinet room where they had a Carl Sandburg biography, which had a description of what the East Room was like then.

And they, they got crepe and they, they lined the, the, the ceiling with it, with blackness.

They brought a catafalque that was exactly like the one that Lincoln had had.

They worked all night on that simply so that when Jackie brought the body back, she could- it wasn't for any public viewing, she could know that it was an historic setting for her husband's body.

She went over to the casket and she touched the flag.

She kissed the casket, went away, and then that was the only time it was seen by those people there.

But it meant something to her.

And then he was responsible for getting the eternal flame for her.

She had seen it in Paris.

And, um... And she wanted one like that for her husband to keep a little light on at the gravesite, like a little boy would want a light.

And Dick had become close to Jackie 'cause they'd worked on a number of projects together during the White House time.

RUBENSTEIN: And was it easy to get the eternal flame?

GOODWIN: It was not easy to get the eternal flame.

In fact, he called Paris and he told the generals, "I need an eternal flame."

They said, "Well, we can't get it there in time."

So what they had to do was to go into a, a shop that had luau plants, you know, luau little lamps, and then they had a propane gas tank underneath, and they weren't even sure that it would work.

It didn't get set up until like two hours before the funeral.

But she lit it and it worked.

Thank God.

RUBENSTEIN: So after the assassination was he asked to come back to the White House by Lyndon Johnson?

And why would Johnson wanna hire a Kennedy aide as one of his top advisors?

GOODWIN: Yeah, there really was a fault line between the Johnsons and the Kennedys even then.

But we didn't know exactly what it was that made Johnson call him until we found one of Johnson's tapes and listened to it.

And Johnson had these tapes, as I'm sure many of you know, that when he had anything important to say, he could press a button on his desk and then record conversations.

Most importantly, with congressmen, whatever deals he made with them, he wanted to be sure that they could stick to the deal.

In this case, we heard a conversation between Bill Moyers, Johnson's aide, who was Dick's friend and, and, and Johnson, which Johnson's saying, "You know, I need somebody to work on my speeches.

I need somebody who could put sex into my speeches.

I need somebody who put rhythm into my speeches.

I need somebody who could put Churchillian phrases into my speeches.

Who can that be?"

And Moyers said, "Well, the only person I know is Dick Goodwin, but he's not one of us."

Meaning he's one of the Kennedys.

But Johnson said, "Well, let's try him on a message to Congress anyway, on the- on, on poverty."

So, he came over, he did that message, it worked out well.

And the next thing you know, he's over in the White House as Johnson's main speech writer.

RUBENSTEIN: And did he come up with a phrase, the Great Society?

GOODWIN: He did indeed.

Well, this is an incredible story that he loved to tell.

What happened is, one morning, about a month after that, Moyers called him and said, "The president wants to talk to us about, um, he- a program that he wants of his own."

He had gotten the tax cut bill through, which was Kennedy's, the civil rights bill to end segregation was going through the Congress.

He said, "I want the Johnson program to be announced."

So Dick said, "Are we meeting in the Oval Office?"

He said, "No, we're going to the White House pool."

So they go to the White House pool and they find Johnson naked, swimming up and down the side of the pool.

Dick said he looked like a big whale going up inside the thing.

And then, um, he- the two of them are standing there in their suits and ties and Johnson says, "Well, guys, come on in.

We have a lot to talk about."

So, they have no choice but to, you know, get stark naked as well.

Soon, you know, there's three guys naked swimming in the pool.

Finally, Johnson pulls over to the side and says, "Okay."

And he knew exactly what he wanted for his program to be.

He knew he wanted Medicare.

He knew he wanted aid to education.

He knew he wanted civil rights, voting rights, immigration reform, NPR, PBS.

Um, so much was already in his head, the National Foundation of the Arts.

And so they decided, well, we better have a name for this thing that we're gonna be announcing.

And they decided we better announce it somewhere.

And Dick was tasked to write this speech at University of Michigan, which took a lot of chutzpah 'cause that's where John Kennedy announced the birth of the Peace Corps.

It's kind of a competitive going on there.

So they had a month or so to work on the speech, and then they needed a name for it.

So they all debated, what should we call it?

Could it be the Better Deal rather than the New Deal?

Could it be called the Glorious Society?

But Dick tried out in a couple small speeches in non-capital letters, "the great society will be a place where the affluence is shared by people, and that everybody has a chance to move to the level of their talent and discipline as Abraham Lincoln wanted."

And so the Great Society became.

So Dick loved to tell the story, it was born with three naked guys in a pool at the White House.

RUBENSTEIN: So, uh, when the civil rights came along, Johnson wanted to give a speech, and ultimately the speech became known as the We Shall Overcome speech.

Uh, did he write that speech and that phrase as well?

GOODWIN: Yeah, that was really probably the highest moment for both Lyndon Johnson and for Dick and their relationship.

Um, and it was a- too, was an extraordinary story.

What happened is the Selma events had taken place.

I was in graduate school at the time, and I remember when we were watching what happened at that bridge, at the Edmund Pettus Bridge, there was a feeling of, can this really be our country?

The peaceful marches were setting out with John Lewis in the head to go from Selma to Montgomery to protest the failure of Black Americans to be able to get the right to vote in all the southern states.

They were asked ridiculous questions when they had to go to register.

How many... How many jelly beans are in this jar?

What's the 13th Amendment?

What's the 17th Amendment?

Um, questions that couldn't be answered in so many ways.

And so they were gonna protest that, but they were met by the Alabama State Troopers halfway across the bridge who were on their horses, had clubs and whips, and fell them to the ground.

And it was all captured on television.

I watched it, as I said, and wondered how this could be our country?

My friends and I were, were so sad, crying.

And then Lyndon Johnson, of course, saw that as well and he knew that he had to do something immediately.

He was not gonna go for voting rights in '65.

He had already got the civil rights bill.

He thought... He thought we needed to absorb it.

He was gonna have the Great Society in '65, but he knew then the conscience of the country had been fired.

So he decided on a Sunday night that he was gonna give this major speech to Congress, to a joint session of Congress that would take weeks normally to write, and Dick had only that one day to write the speech.

So he came in that morning and he put his watch aside.

He was under such pressure.

Um, he figured if he put the watch aside, he wouldn't watch time go by.

And it took like two hours of that nine hours to write the first line of the speech, but it was a beautiful line that he came up with.

"I speak tonight for the dignity of man and the destiny of democracy."

I mean, how incredible is that?

I couldn't write that if I had hours and hours to write that.

(audience applause) And then, and then he... Then he wanted to situate Selma in an historic context.

So he said, "You know, at times, history and fate meet at a certain place at a certain time.

So it was in Lexington and Concord.

So it was at Appomattox.

So it was in Selma, Alabama.

This is not a negro problem, not a White problem, not a northern problem, not a southern problem.

It's not a moral problem.

It's simply wrong to deny your fellow Americans the right to vote.

It is an American problem.

And we are met here tonight, not as Democrats, not as Republicans, to meet that problem."

And then what happened is he got to that point and he had to take a break.

He went out to smoke his cigar and to walk around a little bit.

Now, by now it's the middle of the afternoon.

And he heard somebody- people in the distance, a muffled sound of people singing, "We Shall Overcome," the anthem, of course, of the Civil Rights Movement.

And he came back in, and then he wrote the lines that made the, the title of the speech he wrote.

"But even if the right to vote is, is given, there's still a century of oppression and bigotry to overcome for all of us."

And then Lyndon Johnson would say, "And we shall overcome."

So that becomes the title of that historic speech.

But that wasn't all.

Then at about six o'clock, he's gonna leave to go to the Congress at like 8:30, it's gonna be at nine o'clock, um, Johnson called him up, first time he bothered him all day, and in, in the softest voice that he ever had heard from Lyndon Johnson, he said, "I don't mean to interrupt you, but, um, could you talk a bit- little bit about Cotulla?"

The speeches had been... The pages had been going back and forth from his secretary to Johnson, coming back and edited.

But Dick knew what that meant.

When Johnson was in Southwest State Teachers College, he had taken a year off to go and teach at a small school in the Mexican-American community of Cotulla, where the kids were, Johnson remembered that they felt that they knew people were prejudiced against them because of the color of their skin.

And they had little to eat when they came to school.

But he used everything he could from his salary to get them athletic equipment, but there was little he could do.

"So I want to tell them..." Johnson told Dick, "I wanna tell them that I'm gonna do something now for their kids and grandkids."

So Dick wrote a passage in which he said, "In 1928, I couldn't do much for those kids, but now it's 1965 and I'm standing here and I am the President of the United States, and I have the power and I intend to use it."

It was incredible.

The audience went crazy once again.

And the most important thing was five months later, the Voting Rights Act passed.

So that was a moment of great connection.

Dick said, "God, how I loved him that night.

How I little could have imagined that two years later I'd be marching against him in the streets."

RUBENSTEIN: When the relationship changed, he wanted to go, uh, just become a res- a writer in residence at Wesleyan University.

He kept telling Johnson, "I wanna do this."

Johnson kept saying, "No."

Eventually he goes, and then the war in Vietnam becomes, uh, much bigger than it was before.

Um, does he ever talk to Lyndon Johnson about the war?

GOODWIN: Well, what happens is when he leaves, they leave on pretty good terms.

But then, um, then he ends up going to South America with Bobby Kennedy, who becomes his greatest friend.

And Johnson's certain that he left because of Bobby and that he was writing speeches for Bobby, which wasn't even really true at that time.

So their relationship really, really got hurt.

And then Dick gave the first administration speech against the war in Vietnam.

And somebody said, "Johnson, what do you think about it?"

And Johnson said, "Well, it's like a dog that came back and bit you," you know, they, they hurt their relationship.

And it was one of the things that was saddest for me was 'cause I really, in many ways, felt great affection for LBJ.

I... I worked for him too.

RUBENSTEIN: So, um, your late husband decided to try to talk Bobby Kennedy into running for president against his former boss, Lyndon Johnson.

Failed to do that.

He then went to work for Eugene McCarthy.

And what was his condition with Eugene McCarthy in terms of working for him?

GOODWIN: Well, he told McCarthy as soon as he got up there, that if Bobby were to enter the race, that he'd have to leave because he was his closest friend at that time in political life.

McCarthy understood that.

He was a really standup guy.

But Dick loved being with the kids.

There was something about those kids who came to New Hampshire from all over the country.

They worked their ass off really in many ways.

And they, they, they cut their beards for Gene.

They... They wore long dresses so that they wouldn't be kids that would scare the people in New Hampshire.

And they really made it possible to go door to door.

They went through every single door, Democratic doors in New Hampshire.

And Dick said the night that they won that race, um, he felt a great sense of achievement that maybe, maybe this would make the war come to an earlier end.

RUBENSTEIN: Shortly thereafter, Bobby Kennedy does get in the race and does your late husband then go work for him?

GOODWIN: And then he left and he went to work for Bobby, and he was with him in, in California.

He was with him the night that he died and was with him in the hospital when he finally died.

So that Dick was left with this sadness that was part of our lives all along.

And that's why moving through these boxes meant so much.

He held a grievance toward LBJ.

And as I say, I, well, as you know, I had worked for LBJ.

I, I got chosen as a White House fellow in 1967 and ended up working for him in the White House.

Surprisingly, because what had happened is when I was chosen, we had a big dance at the White House, he did dance with me.

It wasn't peculiar, there were only three women outta the 16 White House fellows.

But as he twirled me around the floor, he whispered that he wanted me to be assigned directly to him.

But it wasn't to be that simple, for in the months leading up to my selection, like so many young people, I too was active in the Anti-Vietnam War Movement and a friend of mine and I had written an article against LBJ, which we'd sent into the New Republic.

We hadn't heard anything from them.

It was really talking about a third party to count-challenge Lyndon Johnson.

And it turned out that they hadn't been interested in publishing it.

And until suddenly this dance was announced, I was with Lyndon Johnson and they decided to publish the article with their title, "How to Remove Lyndon Johnson" in 1968.

So I was certain he would kick me out of the program, but instead, surprisingly, he said, "Oh, bring her down here for a year and if I can't win her over, no one can."

So I did eventually end up working for him in the White House and accompanied him to his ranch to help him on his memoirs.

And that's where my relationship with him developed.

I spent many, many months at the- at the ranch in Texas, and I developed a, a great loyalty to him.

So it made me so sad that in all those last years of our life together, Dick had kept those grievances about LBJ and the war that it made him angry.

We would argue about him all the time, and it was almost like a poison in his system.

So the extraordinary thing that happened, that most important thing in many ways that happened when we went through the boxes, was that as he relived those years in 1964 and '65, and remembered what it was like to be with LBJ when he got that civil rights bill through, when he was so magnificent in voting rights, in Great Society, in poverty, um, he began to soften his feelings toward him.

And I remember one night we went to bed and he finally said to me, "Oh my God."

He said, "I'm beginning to feel affection for the old guy again.

This is terrible."

But it was really wonderful because when you- it made him remember that he had made a difference, that Johnson had made a huge difference in the country.

And in those last years before he died, especially in that last year when he had cancer, he kept working on going through the boxes.

He kept saying, "I, I'm gonna live as long as these boxes."

They were like a talisman to us.

We felt as long as we had things to do, he had a sense of purpose every day in that last year of his life.

And it meant so much to me to watch the serenity and fulfillment that he felt.

All of us who knew him had never seen that side of him.

He was greatly vital.

He was the most interesting guy I ever met in my life.

And I loved him desperately, but there was a sadness that I couldn't take away.

And I kept thinking I can make him happy.

And somehow the boxes gave him that sense of things really did matter.

The '60s was not just simply assassinations and violence, it was something much bigger than that.

It was a time, and I know all of you who would've lived through that, who when we all believed we could make a difference that we could change the country.

The Civil Rights Movement helped us feel that way.

Beginning of the women's movement, beginning of the gay rights movement.

It's a feeling we need to have again now that citizens can make a difference.

Change comes from the bottom-up.

It doesn't come from the top-down.

When Lincoln was called a liberator, he said, "Don't call me that.

It was the anti-slavery movement and the Union soldiers that did it all."

When Teddy Roosevelt was progressive in, in, in the- this terrible turbulence of the turn of the 20th century, it was the movement that was already in the settlement houses, it was already in the social gospel and the Civil Rights Movement made the difference.

So that's what changes us, and that's what Dick felt again.

And he got a hope again about the future.

RUBENSTEIN: So you fell in love with Teddy Roosevelt, you fell in love with Abraham Lincoln, obviously Dick Goodwin.

Who are you gonna fall in love with next?

Who's your next book about?

GOODWIN: No... AUDIENCE: You have a next book ready to go?

GOODWIN: I... I... It's hard to... It's hard to get somebody to go to feel like one of these guys again.

I don't know what I'm gonna do next.

I mean, it's- it takes me a while to figure it out 'cause I'm gonna live with this person for a number of years, as was said, when, when Lincoln wrote that great letter that you read that was so incredible- 10 years, I lived with Lincoln.

I have to like to wake up with the person in the morning, I have to think about them when I go to bed at night.

So it may seem strange that right now, I, I take solace from remembering the people I lived with in the Civil War, the Great Depression, World War II, really hard times in our history.

I'd rather live in those because I know how they ended.

They all ended the right way.

The Civil War ended with emancipation secured.

The... The turn of the century ended with rational reform on the- on the exploitations of the Industrial Revolution.

The allies won World War II.

We have to remember that, that these things that America's been through have ended in ways that they were stronger- we were stronger at the end of them.

That's what's gonna happen to us in this turbulent time.

I... I know it.

That's why I love history so much.

And we've gotta believe it because unless we believe it, we really will be in trouble.

RUBENSTEIN: Doris, I wanna thank you very much for a great conversation.

We've been coming to you from the Robert Smith Auditorium in the New York Historical.

Doris, thank you very much for coming.

Thank you.

GOODWIN: Oh, thank you so much for letting me be here.

Thank you.

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