Exit Interview
Some historians subscribe to the Great Man theory of history. That occasionally an oversized personality comes along who changes world events from what they would have been without that person. George Washington, Napoleon, Alexander the Great. My little group believes in the person-just-outside-the-frame-of-the-picture theory of history. The unrecorded person who makes some small adjustment that makes all the difference.
Can you give me an example?
One of our greatest intrusions into American history was making sure Franklin Roosevelt ran for and got elected to a third term. 1940. A key point. We knew it. He was guided into forsaking the traditional boundaries of the presidency.
Because he was considered essential? Because he was the only person who could guide America through one of its greatest crises? Because someone else might not—?
No. Because of a man named Roger Billings.
I’ve never heard of him.
Exactly. Roger Billings was on the president’s staff, but you haven’t seen him or heard his name. If you did you didn’t notice.
A key aide? A Congressional—
A dog trainer.
A what?
Roger Billings was the caretaker and trainer of Fala. Have you heard of him? The President’s dog. A little scottie. You have seen his picture. The most famous one is of FDR down on the floor in the Oval Office, playing with Fala, coaxing him to take a biscuit. You haven’t seen the whole picture, which included Roger Billings standing a few feet away. A very slender black man of average height, waiting patiently to take the dog away after the President finished playing with him. So unobtrusive you could look at him and not see him. But the president was a very sociable man. While he played with Fala, he and Roger would talk. Idle conversation. Little nothings. And occasionally, very rarely, a little something. Roger Billings would make a hint of an observation. An offhand remark. And they hit home. The Japanese in the Pacific. The cliffs of France. Who seemed trustworthy, who didn’t.
FDR had to remain in office because we had him. He was a great man, but that wasn’t the most important thing. We were right there with him. Never has a president of the United States been so devoted to an animal. Or so susceptible to suggestion. Roger Billings ended the Depression and won World War II. With help, of course.
The interviewer was skeptical. Who wouldn’t be? Can you give me another example? Something more recent, perhaps.
Okay. I’ll tell you one of our failures. Tom Hanks.
Tom Hanks. You somehow failed to get Tom Hanks to—
No. Tom is one of us. Unfortunately, not a very important one of us. He was supposed to be. He was being groomed for great things. He was recruited in his teens. I wasn’t involved, of course, I wasn’t born yet, but I understand great things were expected of Tom. He was supposed to achieve a very minor celebrity. People would vaguely remember his name as one of the stars of a short-lived TV show and a couple of silly movies. “Bachelor Party.” “Turner and Hooch.” But then came “Splash.” We have some pretty smart people on staff, but who could have predicted this? I mean, I love Tom, but honestly, would you pick him out of a lineup as a major movie star? That wasn’t supposed to be his destiny. He was supposed to go from minor actor to major behind-the-scenes player in the entertainment industry. Producer, recruiter, eventually perhaps right-hand man to a studio head. From which position he could influence what pictures got greenlighted, which ones didn’t. In case you don’t realize, that’s how world culture is formed. Tom, and we through him, were going to guide the world into certain realizations, certain beliefs. A golden age of world enlightenment. That was the theory. If we’d had our way, “The Terminator” would never have gotten made. But damn, he became a movie star. And now that he can’t move in public without attracting a crowd, what use is he to us? Oh, he does what he can, but he’s not in much position to influence events subtly.
That was a lie, wasn’t it?
Absolutely. Damn, how did you catch me? No, Tom—Mr. Hanks—isn’t one of us. How did you know?
So you screwed up?
Happens all the time, unfortunately. We’re fallible. We’re not all geniuses. Far from it. And we aren’t this monolithic army moving as one. For the most part the group encourages individual initiative. Each of us acts on his own, or in small groups. And we make mistakes. Sometimes minor ones. Sometimes big time.
Tell me about one of the times when you screwed up.
That one’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? The one that got me here.
Tell me…
It started with her. Arden. Even in that extraordinary group, she was something special. And she ruined everything.
Are you exaggerating again?
Not this time. I’ll tell you….