"President Ford is a decent and honorable man," Meany said, his speech rich with the accent of the Bronx, where he spent his childhood. "But it's not enough to have a nice guy in the White House. We need a new script and a new cast of characters."
In 1976 Meany could have a lot to say about who will occupy 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. At 81 he is hale and hearty—"George has no intention of dying," says a friend—and firmly in control of his $90,000-a-year post at the powerful 13.6-million-member federation.
"I'm glad to be here," Meany quips. "At my age I am happy to be anywhere," but, indeed, he seems to be everywhere. A fierce opponent of detente ("If they kick us in the shins, we kick them in the shins"), he forced President Ford to reconsider the grain deal with Russia. He harangues the White House about programs to create jobs and is constantly at the throat of Arthur Burns, chairman of the Federal Reserve Board. "High interest rates were not written into the Constitution by our Founding Fathers—they were dictated by Arthur Burns," Meany chides. "Being an economist is the one profession you can gain great eminence in without ever being right. Arthur is a prime example."
"Sure Meany has influence here," one high White House official concedes grudgingly. "He's no fool, he's an old s.o.b. with a rough tongue." At the moment his best pal in the Administration seems to be tough-talking Labor Secretary John Dunlop.
Although Meany is a staunch Democrat, he refused to vote in 1972 when George McGovern was the party's candidate. "McGovern's a farmer who wears suede shoes," Meany growled recently. (McGovern, in turn, called Meany "a $100,000-a-year plumber who hasn't fixed a washing machine in 40 years.") The labor chief admits that he'd like to see a liberal in the White House in 1977—"someone like Harry Truman"—but so far has steered clear of endorsing a candidate.
Meany has no plans to retire. "A lot of possible successors have disappeared into the sunset waiting for George," says an aide. Meany does get a touch of bursitis in his right hip and occasionally must limp along on a cane. He's too fat (220 pounds, 5'11"), but eats delectables like corned beef and cabbage with gusto, enjoys a very dry martini and smokes six to 10 big Jamaican cigars a day.
He dotes on his 14 grandchildren—Meany and his wife of 55 years, Gena, have three daughters—and he likes to shoot pool with them at his Bethesda, Md. home. Though a high school dropout, he reads omnivorously. "His breadth of knowledge is fantastic," says one of his aides.
Each day he leaves his comfortable home around 9 a.m. and travels to his office by chauffeured Cadillac (sitting in the front seat). By 5:30 he is back home. On weekends he sometimes unwinds by dabbling in oil painting—mostly abstracts—playing gin rummy or shooting golf (in the low 80s). He often tunes his television set to a football or baseball game. And, when he does, George Meany always roots for the underdog.
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
