Tapes Don't Lie, People Do (part 2)
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear…”
Nixon was not the first US president to record White House conversations, but he was, by far, the very best. Audio recording in the White House can be traced back to the administration of Franklin D. Roosevelt (FDR) and continued with every president thereafter, in varying degrees, until Nixon’s second term of office.
Secret audio recordings during the Nixon administration ended for good on July 18, 1973, less than 48 hours after Alexander Butterfield had revealed the existence of a massive White House recording system before the select Watergate Committee (see Part 1 ) on July 16, 1973.
Perhaps it was because in the early ‘70s audio recording technology had vastly improved, or maybe because “Tricky Dick”—as his critics often called him—had a very dark and cynical personality that lent itself to this type of behavior, but in the end, President Richard M. Nixon secretly recorded over 3 1/2 times the material of all previous US presidents combined.
The final score:
Nixon: 3,700 hours of recorded meetings and conversations
All previous US presidents combined: 1,080 hours
Ironically, Nixon did not begin recording in the White House until two years into his first term.
During the presidential transition period, from November 1968 to January 1969, President Lyndon B. Johnson offered Nixon the use of the White House Communications Center. However, FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover warned Nixon that the center was bugged (Hoover was an expert on “bugs”). Hoover went on to tell Nixon that Johnson recorded all his telephone conversations and meetings.
After Nixon’s inauguration, Harry Robbins (“H.R.”) Haldeman , Nixon’s Chief of Staff, found a recording system hidden in a White House closet. Thinking that this recorder was part of President Johnson’s secret taping system and heeding the warning from Hoover, Haldeman ordered a search of the White House because he feared the White House was bugged. No listening devices were ever located, though.
Nixon abhorred tape recordings and was, by his own admission, mechanically inept. So for the first two years of his presidency, he relied heavily on note-takers. Nevertheless, some of Nixon’s aides wrote more thorough and accurate records than others, and the resulting memos were also subject to that aide’s own interpretation, and often the aide misunderstood what was said.
Nixon searched for a way to improve the documenting of presidential meetings. He even tried to have retired Lt. General Vernon Walters , who was known for both his outstanding memory and writing ability, sit in on meetings and write memoranda afterwards. But this was not the best use of a Lt General’s time, and General Walters became dismayed. “I am a leader of troops and no one’s secretary,” he declared.
As Haldeman and Nixon experimented with different ideas for improving record-keeping, former President Johnson resurfaced, and through an intermediary reminded Nixon that he had made a mistake in removing his recording system, claiming that his tapes had proved extremely valuable for writing his memoirs.
This time Nixon agreed and approved a secret recording system, primarily for (like Johnson) historical purposes, and not for eavesdropping or any other nefarious motives.
Thus something that started out without any sinister purposes and with all good intentions didn’t account for how sinister Nixon would come to be, and proves in the end that “the road to hell is often paved with good intentions.”
The audio installation assignment was given to the Technical Services Division of the US Secret Service , headed by Alexander Butterfield, in early 1971.
Butterfield was asked by H.R. Haldeman, Nixon’s Chief of Staff, to implement the audio taping system, and to "make it good and elaborate, and don’t have the military do it.”
Haldeman viewed the military with some disdain and felt that “they wouldn’t do a very good job.” Besides, he knew that military personnel get transferred from time to time and take early retirement. Haldeman wanted this recording system to be secure, elaborate and highly confidential.
So Butterfield, whose duties included overseeing the Secret Service, was given this highly classified assignment.
It was so secretive that the only people who actually knew about it were Nixon, Butterfield, Haldeman, Larry Higby (Haldeman's assistant), Al Wong (Technical Security Division Chief), and three technicians who installed the system and changed the tapes daily: Ray Zumwalt, Roy Schwalm, and Charles Bretts.
Butterfield’s group installed three different recording stations in the White House . One was in the Oval Office , one in the Cabinet Room , and one on the White House telephone system.
They went even further, installing recorders in the President’s office in the Executive Office Building (next to the White House), and three at the Camp David , Maryland, retreat (on the phone, in a lodge and in Nixon's office).
The technicians wired all devices to central mixers, which were then connected to Sony TC-800B reel-to-reel (open-reel) audiotape recorders.
The equipment was installed behind a blasted-out hole in a brick wall underneath the White House, in the Secret Service agents’ locker room. A large cabinet door was put over the hole to conceal the recorders from view. There was some concern that the agents would become suspicious about this great big door over what used to be a brick wall. However, Butterfield assumed (correctly), “the Secret Service agents wouldn’t pry or probe at something like that.” And he was “amused” that no one ever questioned “a hell of a big [cabinet] door in a tiny little room.”
The recording system in the Oval Office was tied to a “Presidential Locator,” a device used by the Secret Service to follow the president’s movements in the White House complex and know where the president was from minute to minute. Only five people—Butterfield, Haldeman, Steve Bull (staff assistant, Rose Mary Woods (Nixon's secretary), and Dwight Chapin (appointment secretary)—had locator boxes.
The locator would remotely activate the recorder to start when Nixon entered the Oval Office. Nixon’s electronic locator would automatically signal the recorder to switch into record mode when he entered, or the pause mode fifteen to thirty seconds after he had left the room.
The recordings began on February 16, 1971.
Six microphones were imbedded in the surface of the president’s desk. However, according to Butterfield, “that came back to bite us because, when coffee was served at Nixon’s desk, which was the normal routine, you could hear the coffee cups rattle, and the president’s knee would kick the desk, or he would put his feet up now and then, right on (top of) a microphone.”
Another two microphones were placed in the Cabinet Room, but that system was manual rather than activated by the locator.
In the Cabinet Room, the microphones were in the bases of the lamps on the wall (sconces). According to Butterfield, “Steve Bull would come in and say, ‘ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States’. When everyone stood up, I just stepped forward and hit the proper button to turn the things on.”
The recordings on the Sony TC-800B open-reel (reel-to-reel) recorders used a very thin 0.5 mil tape, which ran at an extremely slow speed of 15/16 inches per second—about half the speed of an audio cassette recorder, which runs at 1 7/8 " per second.
At this slow speed, a single reel of tape would deliver over six hours of recording time, but sometimes it still had to be changed in the middle of a meeting. In this case, some portions of those meetings were not recorded while the change took place.
The reels had a diameter of 5", meaning that 1800’ of 0.5 mil tape was used. Having worked for Ampex not too long after this, I suspect the tape that was used was the Ampex 661 1/4" x 1800' on 5" reel, or a similar product made by 3M (the 3M # escapes my recollection). The brand of tape, to my knowledge, was never revealed.
Gradually, the recordings became so commonplace that Nixon became almost oblivious that conversations were being continuously recorded.
Butterfield marveled at Nixon’s ability to “uh, seemingly be oblivious to the tapes. I mean, even I was sitting there uncomfortably sometimes, saying, ‘he’s not really going to say this, is he?’”
Nixon did, and a lot more that both he and the country would come to regret.
Nixon was not the first US president to record White House conversations, but he was, by far, the very best. Audio recording in the White House can be traced back to the administration of Franklin D. Roosevelt (FDR) and continued with every president thereafter, in varying degrees, until Nixon’s second term of office.
Secret audio recordings during the Nixon administration ended for good on July 18, 1973, less than 48 hours after Alexander Butterfield had revealed the existence of a massive White House recording system before the select Watergate Committee (see Part 1 ) on July 16, 1973.
Perhaps it was because in the early ‘70s audio recording technology had vastly improved, or maybe because “Tricky Dick”—as his critics often called him—had a very dark and cynical personality that lent itself to this type of behavior, but in the end, President Richard M. Nixon secretly recorded over 3 1/2 times the material of all previous US presidents combined.
The final score:
Nixon: 3,700 hours of recorded meetings and conversations
All previous US presidents combined: 1,080 hours
Ironically, Nixon did not begin recording in the White House until two years into his first term.
During the presidential transition period, from November 1968 to January 1969, President Lyndon B. Johnson offered Nixon the use of the White House Communications Center. However, FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover warned Nixon that the center was bugged (Hoover was an expert on “bugs”). Hoover went on to tell Nixon that Johnson recorded all his telephone conversations and meetings.
After Nixon’s inauguration, Harry Robbins (“H.R.”) Haldeman , Nixon’s Chief of Staff, found a recording system hidden in a White House closet. Thinking that this recorder was part of President Johnson’s secret taping system and heeding the warning from Hoover, Haldeman ordered a search of the White House because he feared the White House was bugged. No listening devices were ever located, though.
Nixon abhorred tape recordings and was, by his own admission, mechanically inept. So for the first two years of his presidency, he relied heavily on note-takers. Nevertheless, some of Nixon’s aides wrote more thorough and accurate records than others, and the resulting memos were also subject to that aide’s own interpretation, and often the aide misunderstood what was said.
Nixon searched for a way to improve the documenting of presidential meetings. He even tried to have retired Lt. General Vernon Walters , who was known for both his outstanding memory and writing ability, sit in on meetings and write memoranda afterwards. But this was not the best use of a Lt General’s time, and General Walters became dismayed. “I am a leader of troops and no one’s secretary,” he declared.
As Haldeman and Nixon experimented with different ideas for improving record-keeping, former President Johnson resurfaced, and through an intermediary reminded Nixon that he had made a mistake in removing his recording system, claiming that his tapes had proved extremely valuable for writing his memoirs.
This time Nixon agreed and approved a secret recording system, primarily for (like Johnson) historical purposes, and not for eavesdropping or any other nefarious motives.
Thus something that started out without any sinister purposes and with all good intentions didn’t account for how sinister Nixon would come to be, and proves in the end that “the road to hell is often paved with good intentions.”
The audio installation assignment was given to the Technical Services Division of the US Secret Service , headed by Alexander Butterfield, in early 1971.
Butterfield was asked by H.R. Haldeman, Nixon’s Chief of Staff, to implement the audio taping system, and to "make it good and elaborate, and don’t have the military do it.”
Haldeman viewed the military with some disdain and felt that “they wouldn’t do a very good job.” Besides, he knew that military personnel get transferred from time to time and take early retirement. Haldeman wanted this recording system to be secure, elaborate and highly confidential.
So Butterfield, whose duties included overseeing the Secret Service, was given this highly classified assignment.
It was so secretive that the only people who actually knew about it were Nixon, Butterfield, Haldeman, Larry Higby (Haldeman's assistant), Al Wong (Technical Security Division Chief), and three technicians who installed the system and changed the tapes daily: Ray Zumwalt, Roy Schwalm, and Charles Bretts.
Butterfield’s group installed three different recording stations in the White House . One was in the Oval Office , one in the Cabinet Room , and one on the White House telephone system.
They went even further, installing recorders in the President’s office in the Executive Office Building (next to the White House), and three at the Camp David , Maryland, retreat (on the phone, in a lodge and in Nixon's office).
The technicians wired all devices to central mixers, which were then connected to Sony TC-800B reel-to-reel (open-reel) audiotape recorders.
The equipment was installed behind a blasted-out hole in a brick wall underneath the White House, in the Secret Service agents’ locker room. A large cabinet door was put over the hole to conceal the recorders from view. There was some concern that the agents would become suspicious about this great big door over what used to be a brick wall. However, Butterfield assumed (correctly), “the Secret Service agents wouldn’t pry or probe at something like that.” And he was “amused” that no one ever questioned “a hell of a big [cabinet] door in a tiny little room.”
The recording system in the Oval Office was tied to a “Presidential Locator,” a device used by the Secret Service to follow the president’s movements in the White House complex and know where the president was from minute to minute. Only five people—Butterfield, Haldeman, Steve Bull (staff assistant, Rose Mary Woods (Nixon's secretary), and Dwight Chapin (appointment secretary)—had locator boxes.
The locator would remotely activate the recorder to start when Nixon entered the Oval Office. Nixon’s electronic locator would automatically signal the recorder to switch into record mode when he entered, or the pause mode fifteen to thirty seconds after he had left the room.
The recordings began on February 16, 1971.
Six microphones were imbedded in the surface of the president’s desk. However, according to Butterfield, “that came back to bite us because, when coffee was served at Nixon’s desk, which was the normal routine, you could hear the coffee cups rattle, and the president’s knee would kick the desk, or he would put his feet up now and then, right on (top of) a microphone.”
Another two microphones were placed in the Cabinet Room, but that system was manual rather than activated by the locator.
In the Cabinet Room, the microphones were in the bases of the lamps on the wall (sconces). According to Butterfield, “Steve Bull would come in and say, ‘ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States’. When everyone stood up, I just stepped forward and hit the proper button to turn the things on.”
The recordings on the Sony TC-800B open-reel (reel-to-reel) recorders used a very thin 0.5 mil tape, which ran at an extremely slow speed of 15/16 inches per second—about half the speed of an audio cassette recorder, which runs at 1 7/8 " per second.
At this slow speed, a single reel of tape would deliver over six hours of recording time, but sometimes it still had to be changed in the middle of a meeting. In this case, some portions of those meetings were not recorded while the change took place.
The reels had a diameter of 5", meaning that 1800’ of 0.5 mil tape was used. Having worked for Ampex not too long after this, I suspect the tape that was used was the Ampex 661 1/4" x 1800' on 5" reel, or a similar product made by 3M (the 3M # escapes my recollection). The brand of tape, to my knowledge, was never revealed.
Gradually, the recordings became so commonplace that Nixon became almost oblivious that conversations were being continuously recorded.
Butterfield marveled at Nixon’s ability to “uh, seemingly be oblivious to the tapes. I mean, even I was sitting there uncomfortably sometimes, saying, ‘he’s not really going to say this, is he?’”
Nixon did, and a lot more that both he and the country would come to regret.


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