Adele Ferguson - Gen. Haig left crowd cold during early Seattle stop

THE FIRST TIME I saw Alexander M. Haig Jr. was in 1979 when he came to Seattle to scout out his 1980 presidential chances.

He did not turn on the Republican fat cats, though they were impressed by him. Haig, said one, “has the speaking ability of a Reagan, the intellectual capacity of a Kissinger and the poise of a Connally. But he’s a cold fish.”

Cold indeed. He never mingled with the crowd. While the $100-a-platers sipped watered down cocktails at McGovern’s Music Hall at $2.25 a shot, Haig was at a private reception at the Washington Plaza for the fatter fat cats. During dinner, he sat, stern- faced, looking out of place in his double breasted blue pin stripe suit (“left over from when he enlisted in the service, no doubt,” murmured one of my dinner companions.)

When dinner was over, guests were asked to remain in their seats and the general was escorted rapidly out the door to his waiting car and swallowed up by the night. There is an old saying in politics that people like to handle the merchandise. No matter the lateness of the hour. Haig should have done more mingling. He soon figured out for himself that he didn’t have the pizzazz to wow the voters and withdrew as a candidate.

HE WENT ON to become Secretary of State to Ronald Reagan and made himself a special place in history by his remarks after the president was shot in March 1981.

“As of now,” a shaken Haig told the nation via television, “I am in control here in the White House, pending return of the Vice President, and in close touch with him. If something came up, I would check with him, of course.”

That set off an enormous furor, with much pointing out of the fact that the line of succession ran from the veep to the speaker of the House, then to the president pro tern of the Senate and THEN to the secretary of state. Haig tried to explain that he was only referring to holding down the fort at the White House until George Bush (the vice president) arrived by plane, but he wore those remarks around his neck like an albatross the rest of his life.

Asked about them during his appearance at the state Republican convention in Everett in 1986, he didn’t flinch. “That was a bum rap,” he said, putting the finger on Dan Rather for “telling the American people I was talking about transition in government, and I didn’t know the Constitution.” He was the one man in history, he said, who had presided over the removal of a vice president and a president, “and I knew the pecking order.”

HIS REMARKS that followed “I am in control here” were “neatly sliced out of the TV tape shown the American people.” he said. “If I had it to do over, I might have selected my words more carefully. It was a combination of mischief and my own malapropism. But in most areas, they said thank God you did what you did.”

He came back to Washington in 1987 for the national Young Republican convention, along with fellow presidential candidates George Bush, Bob Dole, Jack Kemp, Paul Laxalt and Pat Robertson, all of whom were as boring as he was.

He did, on rare occasions, have his lighter moments. While discussing what our European friends think of us, he said that reminded him about the meeting at Yalta where Roosevelt, Stalin and Churchill found a bottle on the beach with a genie in it. “Your dearest wish is my command,” said the genie.

“The destruction of the United States of America,” said Stalin. “The destruction of the Soviet Union,” said Roosevelt. “I’d like a good Havana cigar,” said Churchill, “but please serve the other two gentlemen first.”

Bon Voyage, General.

(ADELE FERGUSON can be reached at P.O. Box 69, Hansville, Wa., 98340.)