Life at Key B and San C

What's it like living in the area of one of the President's two vacation homes, Key Biscayne and San Clemente? For one thing, a man is not about to be bitten by a mosquito; at Key Biscayne there is extra spraying when the President is in residence.

Unlikely as it sounds, two presidents have spent some time in my little town of Cornish Flat in rural New Hampshire (pop. 1,268). Teddy Roosevelt hunted bull moose in our Corbin Park game preserve and Woodrow Wilson spent a couple of summers on the other, tonier side of town. But that was a few years back, before the age of large Presidential entourages, strenuous security networks, legions of media people.

Wondering what it's like today to be living in close proximity to a President, I wrote to Dartmouth alumni whose addresses were, or recently had been, Key Biscayne and San Clemente. All 11 men kindly responded to a fairly simple and consciously non-political questionnaire about the effects of the Presidential presence.

The President doesn't surface very often in either place: three out of four in San Clemente have never seen him, while one man in Key Biscayne never has laid eyes on him and three have not had a glimpse since he became President. Two have seen Mr. Nixon "about a dozen times," and one man "four times."

Nor has any Dartmouth resident been invited to a Nixon home or had any business or social contact with the President. "Nope," said one alumnus, "but my wife once chatted with him in a local store."

Another confirmed that the President "is extremely nice to waitresses, bus boys and other restaurant help. He once took time out from his meal to discuss Vietnam with a waitress when he found that her son was over there. This was before the war ended."

If no alumnus has ever wined or diner with the Nixons, neither has any 0f their friends. "Only Bebe goes there from around here," said three different men, referring to the President's good Key Biscayne friend, Bebe Rebozo. Another suggested: "From all reports, Nixon's anti-social by nature."

"The closest I ever got to an invitation, said one man, "was when Bebe asked a friend to take the President's butler fishing. We were going on my boat. At the last minute the butler had to cancel out because he sprained his neck diving off the helicopter landing pad into Biscayne Bay. Apparently the water was too shallow and the poor guy hit his head on the bottom."

Not surprisingly, there was a mixed response as to whether there was a change in life or tempo when the President was in residence and security measures at the peak. "No" and "None whatsoever answered two San Clementians, while a third said: "I'm sure you heard the story that went around when the President bought the San Clemente property. When the people heard of the purchase, they opened their eyes, rolled over, and went back to sleep. That's about the way it was."

Increased helicopter activity and "our kids barred from surfing at Cotton Point were mentioned, but not much beyond that. "Our last view of the Nixons and their daughter Tricia," added one man, "was on January 6 at our church. They looked fine and were very warmly received by the congregation."

Key Biscayne residents are apparently made more aware of the President's weekend presence. Three of the seven said there was no difference, but others said the influx of sight-seeing buses, Sunday drivers and security forces was bothersome. Three men mentioned occasional picketing at the Florida compound, with the annoyance of "streets blocked off, curious onlookers and TV and newspaper people all over the place."

"His visits never faze us much, said one resident. "He comes, he goes, no particular excitement." "But," noted another, "Key Biscayne seemed quieter before Nixon became President.'

"At least," said one alumnus, "you no longer have to explain to people where you live. They now know we're part of the continental United States and not out in the Bahamas somewhere."

With the notoriety, however, come higher real estate prices, and one alumnus pointed out, apparently without complaint, that land values had risen dramatically in the past few years.

Three or four alumni with mariner instincts. weren't quite happy with some of the boating restrictions around the Nixon compound" One called them a "nuisance," another said they "burn me up."

"The only real gripe I have," said he that is burned, "is that almost a square mile in front of his place on the Bay is restricted. A couple of Coast Guard boats patrol there seven days a week, regardless of whether the President is in town. You go inside the off-limits and you could be subject to heavy fine."

He added, "Once I anchored outside the security zone catching bait-fish. The patrol boat came over real fast and ordered me to leave. I said I was outside the zone and a guardsman said I was 'lingering.' I told him to go to hell, that I was leaving. He got on the marine phone to headquarters and after a five minute chat with someone, backed his boat away. My friend and I stayed and got a nice catch of pin fish."

Another respondent said that the courts at the Royal Biscayne Hotel Tennis Club are invaded by the White House staff. "But they are quite aloof and stick to themselves. Prior to Watergate, staff members would play with local residents, but since then they've been wearing a much lower profile. The White House press corps is a much friendlier and congenial group, and the President's personal physician is a nice guy and gregarious. Mr. Haldeman never mixed with locals on the tennis courts, although Mr. Ziegler did occasionally."

"All in all." decided an alumnus whose home is just ten blocks from the President's, "Key Biscayne is probably too small for a Presidential entourage."

Two others concluded: "The President himself is ok. He comes down to relax, so the people let him. He deserves it." And: "When they are in residence here, we feel that they are at least here partially for rest and relaxation. And we feel that everyone should respect this."

The same would be true in Cornish Flat.

Fritz Hier '44 is Director of PublicPrograms at Dartmouth and a tree farmerin cornish Flat.