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When all was planned out, Westerdahl laid the scheme on Governor McCall — who, after his initial explosive reaction, warmed up to it quite quickly. There was, however, one problem that rose to his mind. Here’s how author Brent Walth describes the conversation that ensued: “‘Ron,’ he (McCall) said to Schmidt, ‘you’re the political man. If I make a decision to do this, what happens?’ Schmidt shook his head. He noted that the election followed the American Legion convention by only seven weeks. ‘Whether it works or not, Governor,’ he replied, ‘it’s very likely you’ll lose the election because of it.’” It was a tough call. Do nothing, let riots break out, and probably win re-election in their aftermath? Or take action, prevent the riots, and probably lose the election amid accusations of “pandering to the hippies”? McCall chewed this over silently for a bit, staring at the wall behind his desk. Then he spun his chair around to face the three men. “I’ve made my decision,” he said. “And I’ve just committed political suicide.”
But the most bitter opponents of McCall’s plan were probably the hawkish members of the People’s Army Jamboree, who suddenly saw their support dwindle away to almost nothing. McCall wasn’t taking any chances. He’d called up the National Guard, sent them up to Fort Lewis in Washington for riot training, and kept them on hand in a sort of standby mode, just in case. Interestingly, he took special care not to officially deploy them, since that would make it possible for the federal government to take operational control of them; clearly, McCall still didn’t entirely trust Washington not to make trouble. On the eve of the event, McCall made a remarkable speech in which he expressed absolute support for the protesters’ Constitutional rights and an absolute-zero level of tolerance for any violence, no matter who the perpetrator. It was actually one of history’s great masterpieces of the speechwriter’s art, and it left McCall looking strong, fair, statesmanlike and very much in control of the situation. Ironically, though, he didn’t much feel in control. He’d done all he could, and now all he could do was wait, looking nervously down at the streets of Portland from a suite in the Portland Hilton, hoping for the best. We’ll talk about how the weekend worked out in the third and final part of the Vortex I story, next week.
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