The President's Man

Who is the last White House staff member to see the President at night? Who wakes him in the morning? Who spends more time with Richard Nixon than Henry Kissinger? Who is privy to the periods of presidential reflection during walks on the beach? Haldeman and Ehrlichman of the palace guard? Political Operatives Dent and Chotiner? No. The correct answer is Manuel ("Manolo") Sanchez, 41, the President's man, an ebullient Cuban refugee and family servant for nine years.

Manolo is always there: waiting by the buzzer in his third-floor White House apartment or West Wing office for the signal to retrieve papers or bring the tray from the kitchen for a working lunch. He serves as a one-man gallery for presidential bowling in the basement, sits quietly in the Executive Office Building hideaway while Nixon works alone late at night, gives the word to Secret Service men and military aides about the departure time for presidential trips. He is the one free spirit of the White House, the pet of secretaries and staff members, who jokes with the press in fractured English and breezes past the protective shield that rebuffs Cabinet members and Congressmen.

One or Two. Once Manolo and his wife Fina, 40, were the Nixons' personal servants, cooking, keeping house, chauffeuring--first in California, then in New York. The White House staff takes care of those duties now, although Manolo defensively explains that on weekends at Key Biscayne or San Clemente it is like the old days when Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez were in charge. Manolo's chief duty now is being on hand when Richard Nixon wants him.

On New Year's Eve, Nixon invited newsmen into his office for a taste of his "secret" martini formula. It was not long before the press corps discovered that Manolo knew the vaunted recipe. But there were no high-level disclosures: "I give you my secret formula for daiquiris," he offered. "How about that?" He dispenses footnote facts--Nixon has orange juice, cold cereal and grapefruit for breakfast--but Manolo husbands in true Nixon fashion what he considers to be more controversial information, such as which newspapers the President reads during breakfast: "Oh, one or two. I really cannot say." The gentleman's gentleman has even begun to look like the boss: Manolo's sideburns have fallen to mid-ear level in recent months; his hair has become fuller above the temples, and the greasy kid stuff has disappeared. The reason: Manolo has placed himself in the hands of Nixon's hair stylist, Milton Pitts.

The Sanchezes, who have no children, came to work for the Nixons shortly before the 1962 California gubernatorial election. Nixon Pal Bebe Rebozo recommended the couple after they had been forced to leave Cuba with their wealthy Italian employer. Manolo's English was so bad in the beginning that Nixon often had to leave notes for Fina to translate.

Still, Manolo was Nixon's driver during that unsuccessful race: "Somebody in the heaven was looking out for me. I have a good map. I find every place. But sometimes he tell me something and I just stand there helpless--no understand." The Sanchezes moved with the Nixons to New York, where Fina taught Tricia and Julie to cook and looked after the apartment. In the pre-White House days, the Sanchezes chose Christmas gifts for the Nixons, but since moving into the White House they can think of nothing the First Family needs: "When we run the house we know what the girls need. We know what is broken or what Mrs. Nixon needs. But it is different now. No like before."

Palace Life. Nixon was the Sanchezes' sponsor when they sought U.S. citizenship in 1968, delaying his departure to the Republican Convention long enough to stand beside Manolo and Fina as they received their naturalization papers. The move from refugees to White House residents has a storybook quality to the Sanchezes. Says Fina: "Every night we thank God for what we have. It's like you live in a history book." And Manolo: "It's the palace of the United States. How many other immigrants have had our chance?"

The Sanchezes are registered Republicans in San Clemente, their official home. Manolo fishes off the rocks below the Western White House. In Key Biscayne, he does his angling from the kitchen window: "I tie on a little piece of white string and I can tell if I have a bite. The President never goes fishing, but when we walk the beach he will ask me about it. He never mentions his problems. He have too many things on his mind. It is only way to escape."

Life with the President has its rough moments too. When Nixon took his famous early-morning excursion to the Lincoln Memorial to talk to demonstrators at the time of the Cambodian invasion, Manolo was rousted out of bed to accompany him. When a fire Manolo started in the living-room fireplace at San Clemente accidentally burned out of control, damaging a wall and sending the President fleeing in his pajamas to an adjoining cottage, angry White House aides approached him for an explanation. Manolo had a humorous answer: "I promise not to smoke pot in the basement any more."

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