The Nixons, the Hisses, and some cards
I've always heard that my grandmother, an avid Bridge player, once played cards with Richard Nixon. Not sure that anyone's a fan of Tricky Dick, but knowing that your grandmother was asked to play Bridge with a sitting U.S. president is pretty cool, right?
When my parents were visiting a couple of weeks ago, the story got fleshed out a bit more, along with another piece of family lore that we'd never researched much before.
My dad grew up in Coral Gables, Florida, the Miami neighborhood that is home of The University of Miami, The Venetian Pool, and The Biltmore Hotel. My grandmother passed away when I was eight and I haven't spent much time there since, but I can picture the huge ficus trees arching over the streets... the lovely homes with Spanish tile roofs... the Art Deco storefronts on The Miracle Mile... and Daddy's favorite barbecue in the world--Shorty's--with corn on the cob floating in a tub of melted butter...
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Coral Gables was home to some interesting cats back in the day, which has made for some pretty fascinating family stories.
Some friends of my grandparents, the Mackles, lived across the street. Terrifyingly, their daughter Barbara Jane was kidnapped from Emory University in 1968 and buried alive while being held for ransom. Thankfully, she was found, but the story was national news that was eventually made into an autobiography and later turned into the movie, "83 Hours 'Til Dawn." I'm told that when the reporters wouldn't get off of my grandparents' lawn, my grandfather turned the sprinkler system on them. I can imagine him laughing as he watched them scatter and shield their precious cameras from the "rain."
The Mackles were land developers, primarily in south Florida--including Key Biscayne--and Mrs. Mackle and my grandmother apparently were Bridge Club buddies with the wife of Bebe Rebozo, founder of the Key Biscayne Bank, mob associate... and good friend to Richard Nixon. Rebozo facilitated the financing for the president's Key Biscayne home.
So when President Nixon, who loved to play Bridge, was visiting his "Winter White House" (as he did some 50 or so times during his presidency) and wanted to play cards, who was asked? Mrs. Rebozo and her Bridge Club ladies, of course.
Now here's where the story got really interesting a couple of weeks ago:
We were brushing up on the history of someone we are probably related to... one of those infamous characters in history whom you might not like to claim, but with a rare last name like HISS, it's hard to imagine that there isn't a family connection to Alger Hiss, or "Uncle Alger" as we've always jokingly referred to him. We've got to at least be third cousins twice removed or something like that.
Alger Hiss was a U.S. government official in the 1940s, a rising star who served as secretary at the Dunbarton Oaks Conference (where the plans for the United Nations were drawn up), attended the Yalta Conference (with those guys--FDR, Churchill, and Stalin), and served our country in other hoity-toity capacities. In 1948, however, Alger Hiss was accused of being a Soviet spy. The circumstantial evidence around this is fascinating... including some documents that were found in a hollowed-out pumpkin, and a typewriter with almost-matching serial numbers that was fabricated by the FBI... And although he was never proven to be a spy, Alger was found guilty of perjury in 1950, served some time, and was tarnished forever.
The Alger Hiss witch hunt was a story that captivated the nation's attention at the time and was worthy of the history books when my parents were learning U.S. history in the 1950s and '60s. It was the springboard for McCarthyism in the 1950s... and (here's the piece of news to us) catapulted the career of an until-then unknown figure who led the charge against Alger Hiss... Richard Nixon...
Who later played Bridge against my grandmother, Marilyn Hiss.
If I had to guess, she was the only Hiss that Nixon had encountered before or since his quest against Alger.
I'm a little giddy thinking of what he must have felt when introduced to his fellow Bridge players that day. "Mr. President, this is Mrs. Hiss." I hope he was squirming in his card table chair.
And I hope she beat his pants off.
From what I understand about my grandmother, she was a killer Bridge player and would not have let anyone beat her. Not even the President of the United States.
Marilyn Anne Ward marries James Lewis Hiss, January 31, 1947
Maybe this is why we've only heard of her playing cards against the president ONCE.
