 In 1908, a few people outside the Texas Hill Country could tell with any certainty where the Pyrton Alley's River was located. But on the banks of that river, in a modest-frame house, a baby was born to Sam and Rebecca Johnson, a baby whose grandfather proudly proclaimed to the countryside, a United States Senator was born today, my grandson. The old gentleman was partly right, but he set his sights too low. For the son of Sam and Rebecca Johnson, a half-century later visits the same house on the banks of the Pyrton Alley's, not as Senator, but as President of the United States. Here in his beloved Hill Country, he rests for a few days, and quietly observes with his family and friends the 190th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. He would unwind, but not completely. For as he celebrates the national holiday as a private citizen, he still bears the burden of presidency. On the domestic scene, 19 million aged Americans overnight were entitled to free medical care through a program that his critics predicted would bring chaos to the hospitals. On the international scene, bombers blast North Vietnam targets on the other side of the world. It was characteristic of his capacity to absorb many detailed facts that as he received reports on the results of the airstrikes, he also wanted to know how many hospital beds would be available in Mississippi for Medicare patients. But in spite of the issues facing him, there would be time during those first few days of summer to involve himself with the work of his ranch and to take enjoyment from the land. Next in suntan, Lyndon Baines Johnson reported to the nation during his 66th news conference. The President prefaced his live telecast with a barbecue for the press on the front lawn of the LBJ Ranch. His opening remarks emphasized the other war in Vietnam, the attack on illiteracy, poverty and disease. This would be part of a theme that the President would hammer home to the people throughout the summer in an exhaustive effort to make sure every American knows exactly what his government is trying to do in Vietnam. Earlier in the year, the President had established an emergency board to investigate and report upon a dispute between five major airline carriers and their machinists. On June the 7th, the President transmitted the report to both parties, strongly recommending that they settle their differences within the report's framework. After 30 days of negotiations, the machinists struck. As the President's statement reflecting his concern was teletyped from press headquarters in San Antonio, Texas, an empty chair in the White House proclaimed the fact that the problems, the attempts to find solutions and the final answers continued on a 24-hour basis, no matter where the chief executive may be. This had been made possible through the increased mobility afforded the man who holds the helm. When he travels, the President virtually takes the White House with him. An elaborate communications system keeps him in constant touch with any of a host of carefully selected advisers and department heads. On 11 July, the first family returns to Washington and for a brief time would conduct business from the main store on 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. For his daughter Lucy and her fiance Pat Nugent, it would be the beginning of a whirlwind of prenuptial activities, ranging from intimate bridal showers to huge red carpet receptions. For Lucy's father, it would be the beginning of a busy summer, keyed to talking with the American people face-to-face across the land, explaining and defining his administration's policies and principally the nation's current role in the Pacific. But first, there was a bit of business at the Pentagon. On 12 July, the President personally commended 17 cost-conscious defense officials, each of whom contributed immeasurably to trimming $4.5 billion from the defense budget during the past fiscal year. The record that you have achieved in your part of the government's cost-production program in my judgment is without equal. And every department of this government today is attempting to imitate and to emulate what you have done, and is a record that you and your family can be very proud of. If I would leave no other thought with you this morning than this one, I would say that every person within the sound of my voice and every employee of the Defense Department, in uniform and out, civilian or military, can take great pride in saying, I was a part of the Department of Defense in the 60s. And that is a record that you can point to with pride and that your children and grandchildren will take great pride in. The same day, the President was scheduled to speak to the American Alumni Council in White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia, but his flight was canceled because of weather. From the White House Theater on nationwide television, he delivered his address to the council, laying out the essentials for a lasting peace not only in Vietnam, but throughout the entire Asian community. And again, the President stressed the importance of building political and economic strength among those nations as one of the foundations for a lasting peace. The coast and geodetic ship The Oceanographer is the latest deep sea research vehicle to come down the ways. Blending his personal support, as well as official impetus to the advancement of marine technology, the President attended the commissioning and at the same time invited 11 nations having interests in the sea, including the Soviet Union, to share in the first round-the-world cruise of The Oceanographer. The men who sail before the mast have come a long way in their quest for better working conditions, birthing and shipboard food, but it's doubtful that elaborate creations such as this will grace many mess deck tables on The Oceanographer's maiden voyage. But underneath the paper mache and frosting that traditionally adorns a ship commissioning lies a serious commitment by the United States to a better understanding of the sea that divides and yet unites mankind. For it's here that an untapped reservoir of natural wealth, both food and mineral, lies waiting for the science and technology that will ultimately conduct the harvest. Part of that technology in the gleaming white hull of The Oceanographer will soon set sail, only one of an ever-growing fleet of 115 federal research vessels. One of the ablest supporters of United States policy in Southeast Asia partner in the development programs for the peoples of the Pacific, Prime Minister Holt of Australia returns to the White House as ally, as friend. He would, during a toast at a luncheon in his honor the following day, symbolically refer to his friendship for the United States as one similar to the famous Esop Fable, the lion and the mouse. Only in his case it would be more accurate to describe it as the lion and the kangaroo. The secretary of the Navy's yacht Sequoia is a waterborne retreat for the chief executive. On trips like these down the quiet Potomac, the Sequoia becomes yet another extension of the White House, a very private extension where peace and relaxation are the order of the day. Discussions will continue, but the pace is less hurried, the talks informal. The President repeated to the Prime Minister the ideas he had recently conveyed to the people of America's obligations in the Pacific. On July 15, William J. Hopkins was honored by the President for 23 years of the highest possible service as executive clerk of the White House. 23 years that span the New Deal, the Fair Deal, the New Frontier and the Great Society. Foundly symbolic occasion for an honoring Mr. Hopkins, we also honor the whole core of dedicated civil servants of which he is so outstanding an example. I have said on many occasions that I believe our country has developed the finest professional civil service in the history of the world. And as President I have not merely expressed that opinion as either words. I have acted upon it. Three days later the President would again act upon this conviction. On 18 July he put his pen to the Federal Sourian Fringe Benefits Act of 1966, observing that the country was in a period of economic prosperity unequaled in its history. On the lighter side of the White House scene, Lucy was entertained by the distressed core of the press. Grateful for many prenuptial interviews and perhaps to make up for the many moments of stolen privacy, the journalist staged the skit for the bride-to-be and her mother. One news item that would remain private, however, was the location of the honeymoon. Lucy refused to disclose the secret destination, but offered to let a dart do her talking for her. If her aim was accurate, only the first family knew. Mrs. Johnson relieved the President of any responsibility in handling the many details of the wedding, now soon approaching. And in a press conference the following day the President took refuge in this fact. Fairchild newspapers found their press credentials to cover the wedding withdrawn because they had ignored a release date on a news story concerning Lucy's bridal gown. Challenging the President with denying freedom to the press, the Fairchild representative was apprised of the Chief Executive's positive stand on this issue. But if I could have your permission to just step aside on any of the detailed wedding arrangements, I would like very much to do so. Thank you very much. There were other issues during the month of July, however, on which the President had no prerogative to step aside. On 19 July he met with congressional leaders to discuss the impact of appropriation increases on the budget. Having just wrapped up the fiscal year with the lowest deficit since 1960, in spite of an ever increasing cost of war, the President was determined to keep federal spending in the upcoming months in line. Knowing that the budget can be a delicately balanced seesaw, the Chief Executive discouraged any additional expenditures, or add-ons, in an effort to hold the line on the inflationary pressures being felt throughout the economy. The President, as Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces, had repeatedly expressed his pride in the men who were actively serving in Southeast Asia. And now without publicity or fanfare, he tried to convey this feeling to some of the men who had fought in Vietnam, and who had come back home bearing the physical scars of war. On deck for this impromptu presidential boarding party were 500 enlisted men, most of them wounded veterans from the conflict in Asia. The Secretary of Defense had sponsored this summer outing on the Potomac, inviting soldiers, sailors, marines, and airmen from all of the area service hospitals. Here, among these men who had given far more than most of their countrymen, who, above all other people, could be expected to weigh seriously the cost of war in terms of its toll on human life, came reassuring words and full support for the job the President was trying to do. It was late afternoon on the 20th of July when the President, speaking for the entire nation, said goodbye to 3,000 exchange students who had completed a year of study in the United States. When countries speak of sending volunteers into other lands, let them be sent to the real battlefield, the battlefield of poverty and ignorance and disease and suffering. Let them come bearing hope and not arms. Let them cross the frontiers in the bright light of day and knock down the jungle trails in the dark of night. Let them volunteer to enlarge the lives of their neighbors, not to take the lives of anyone. This is the kind of volunteer that America understands. It's the only kind that the world needs or wants. And I promise you that wherever such a volunteer may walk, he will find an American among the first to give him welcome and to take his hand and to join him in his work for peace. Prime Minister Forbes Burnham of Guiana, the newest independent state in the Americas, prompted the President to speak of the problems another state faced when it too declared its independence some years earlier. We devoted the first decades to mastering the frontier of our rivers and our forests, of our plains and our mountains. And then next we tackled the frontier of industrial development. Today we are now pushing forward the frontiers of human aspiration and the needs of humankind. We're committed to rebuilding our blighted cities and preserving the beauty of our land and our landscape. And while doing all of this at home, we will never falter in our commitment overseas to the defense of freedom and in support of economic development. In these opening remarks to Prime Minister Burnham, the President had summed up in a few words his entire domestic program and his administration's foreign policy. But now he would take these few words and expand them to millions of Americans across the heartland of Indiana, Illinois and Kentucky. Although referred to as a non-political trip with bipartisan leaders from all states invited to come along, no one could deny the anticipated political benefits. The President's cross-country tour would be a tremendous help to Democratic freshmen in Congress coming up for election. Evidence is clear. The guerrilla war in South Vietnam was inspired by Hanoi. It was organized in Hanoi. It is directed in Hanoi and it is today being supplied from Hanoi. If the American people need any reminder of the kind of enemy we face, the kind of enemy that seeks to take over South Vietnam, they can read reports this morning in your morning paper. They can hear it over your radio where the VidCon attacked on yesterday the United States Navy Hospital in Denang. At least three of our men who are patients in that hospital were injured. And that is the typical of the way the communists fight because they cannot hope to win on the battlefield. They rely on terror and on attacks against the wounded and the innocent. There are people who denounce airstrikes against oil depots in North Vietnam, in my own country. But they remain strangely silent when the communists in the south turn their mortars on an American hospital or blow a busload of farmers or murder the mayor of a Vietnamese town. I just wish they would ask themselves if their standard of judgment is really fair. Fort Campbell, Kentucky. Home of the Screaming Eagles, the 101st Airborne. Men all too familiar with the jungles and red mud of Vietnam. At Vincent's, Indiana, the president signed into law the bill establishing the George Rogers Clark National Historical Park. The first park in the national system commemorating the opening of the Northwest Territory. I'll continue to try to persuade Hanoi that we had rather talk than fight. But I pledge you too that we shall continue if they refuse to negotiate to make them pay a high price for their warfare in the south on South Vietnam and on our men. Patient citation to the postmaster of Jeffersonville The president concluded his whirlwind tour of the three central states. The United States was born in strife and it was nurtured in hardship. We grew and we prospered because we weren't afraid of frontiers but we always looked toward those faraway horizons. And we have not come this long distance in history because we were either a weak, or a frightened, or a fearful, or a timid people. When America grows afraid and loses its commitment to freedom, that is the day that America will begin to die. And the faces that I have seen and the states that I visited today have told me that this will never be. Four days later, the president congratulated two Americans who were living examples of this philosophy. Men who were not afraid of frontiers and who, in pursuit of their everyday occupation, looked toward faraway horizons on a daily basis. Colonel Robert L. Stevens and Lieutenant Colonel Walter F. Daniel claim new world speed and altitude records for the United States Air Force. Any demonstrator questioning America's resolve in the war might receive a surprising answer from a group of Sioux City Junior High School students. Cooling dimes and nickels from their lunch money, they rented billboards with petitions for a new postage stamp honoring the service man. Now a reality, the stamp soon goes on sale. First customer, the White House. The month of July was running out and on the 29th, so it appeared, was the influence, power, and economy of Great Britain. He set by the worst financial crisis since World War II, pressured by left-wing labor rights to withdraw all support from United States policies in Vietnam and finding her military commitments in the Far East and in Germany economically tenuous, England and the person of Prime Minister Wilson was nonetheless welcomed as an old friend. The meeting was a short one by anyone's standards, which only furthered the evidence that ties continued to be strong and the dialogues fruitful. Through her Prime Minister, Great Britain confirmed her Atlantic loyalties and the Pacific ones as well and vowed that the British economy would be strengthened. You and I have many things in common, Mr. Prime Minister. One, of course, is politics and election results, including the very difficult problem that goes with a large majority. Another is economics, including that most fascinating and most unfortunately main subject, the balance of payments. And a third interest, Mr. Prime Minister, is our mutual fascination with transportation. Today I'm thinking in particular of ships and airplane strikes. The airplanes were still on the ground and had been since 7 July. In a final effort to provide a setting whereby the bargainers could effect an agreement, the President called both sides to the White House. He expressed admiration for their efforts, but pointed out that there were other people whose eagerness for a settlement rises in proportion to the number of days that the strike continues. And these people ranged from the wives of workers to even presidents. At 9.52 that night, in a nationwide broadcast from the White House, the President introduced Mr. William J. Curtin, Chief Negotiator for the Airlines, and Mr. P. L. Seymiller, President of the Machinist Union, to the people of the United States who were still waiting anxiously to become airborne. A settlement through free collective bargaining had been reached. Mr. Seymiller felt sure that the Union members would ratify this historic agreement. As the month of July ended, Mr. Seymiller may have felt somewhat akin to President Wilson at the time Congress refused to honor the President's commitments to the League of Nations. For the Machinist Union rejected the settlement, and the engines of five major airlines across the country remained cold.