hordes at the ford If you're ever passing through Grand Rapids, Michigan, stop by the triangular Gerald R. Ford Museum. You can't miss it: It's right off the Gerald R. Ford Freeway. It's also the color of oatmeal and has skyscraper-sized windows and door handles shaped like the presidential seal.
Every person who grew up in western Michigan, as I did, has visited the museum at least once as part of a school field trip. Completed in 1981, the museum has two floors. Ford only served two years before Jimmy Carter sent him packing in the 1976 election, and nothing much happened besides his pardon of Nixon. Even two floors might be a stretch, which is why the ground floor is usually set aside for special exhibits. The last time I visited this area was filled with a tribute to presidential pets. The display included the water dish of FDR's mutt Fala, a sullen photo of Laddie Boy after Warren Harding died and the patriotic dog collar worn by the Ford's beloved Liberty.
On the second floor, Ford's voice skates across the shiny floor from all directions — Ford for six minutes as House Minority Leader, Ford for five minutes as vice president, Ford for five minutes during the Carter debates. The exhibits are arranged like a maze. One display, which purports to show Ford's career "in the context of 100 years of American history," includes campaign kitchen hot pads, a copy of a book he wrote about Lee Harvey Oswald, and a photo of his wife Betty, who "in 1945 helped introduce Grand Rapids to secular and religious modern dance."
Ford is shown in a photo ducking bullets from one of the two attempts on his life. Another display includes a photo of Chevy Chase, who mocked Ford with pratfalls. The exhibit points out: "It was ironic that Ford, the most athletic of modern presidents, was the object of countless jokes portraying him as clumsy and accident-prone."
A glass case holds the contents of Ford's desk when he left the White House, including an obviously memorable 1961 citation from the American Political Science Association and a note from tax dodger Spiro Agnew telling Ford that he planned to resign as vice president.
At 34, according to a museum pamphlet, Ford was "an eligible Grand Rapids bachelor and quite comfortable living at home with his mother and dad." But not for long. Nearby is the lucky penny Betty Ford kept in her shoe at their wedding.
All paths lead to "Three Days of the Presidency," which describes Ford's handling of the SS Mayaguez conflict, an alleged "full-scale international crisis" that occured in May 1975. The exhibit includes a minute-by-minute breakdown of events after Cuban soldiers seized the ship and its crew. Ford is shown doing push-ups at 5:30 a.m. as the crisis unfolds, along with a shot later in the day taken as he met William Perkins Jr. of Illinois, who had shaken hands with every executive officer since Truman. Mr. Perkins is wearing a very loud jacket.
At 8:05 p.m. on the second day of the conflict, "the Fords talked over aspects of the Mayaguez crisis. Supper was meat loaf and mashed potatoes." After the crew was rescued, there was "widespread jubilation." (Didn't we get that day off school?)
Other exhibits include photos of Ford jumping on a trampoline and feeding deer at Camp David, then being pushed into a pool by his wife while learning to swim. Overhead, a computerized voice at the museum says, "He lost the White House, but he gained the respect and admiration of America."
The highlight of the museum are the gifts sent to the president by everyday Americans, most of which commemorated the 1976 bicentennial. The gifts include a Declaration of Independence created with dried alphabet soup letters glued on plywood and an American flag made of sturdy 1974 dollar bills.