My Brush With Corporate Fame

Back in the early 1980s, I was employed as a young public opinion analyst for the renowned survey firm of Cambridge Survey Research/Cambridge Reports, Inc. One of the syndicated products of the firm was a 1,500-member, in-person survey conducted nationally each quarter. The survey covered a wide range of topics, including: politics, economics, energy, and consumer confidence. Several large corporations subscribed to the survey—including its extensive written analysis—for a hefty fee (at least it seemed hefty in the 80s).

Many of the larger subscribers would request personal data presentations by principals of our company. One of these was Chrysler Corporation. Chrysler was headed up by its legendary CEO Lee Iacocca. Iacocca was previously president of Ford Motor Company, where he was responsible for the development of several iconic American cars—most notably the Ford Mustang. His tenure at Chrysler was marked by an incredible financial turnaround—helped in part by a 1979 federal loan guarantee. 

In 1981, I was tapped to do the personal data presentation to Iacocca and the Chrysler Board of Directors. One of our partners was originally scheduled to be there, but was unable to make it. So, as a 29-year-old analyst, I headed to Detroit with celluloid transparencies in hand. I knew of Iacocca and his reputation for flying into fits of rage—while chomping down on an ever-present cigar. To put it mildly, I was nervous. 

I waited outside the Chrysler boardroom for my scheduled 10AM presentation. Ten o’clock came and went—as did 11AM, 12PM and 1PM. At around 2:30PM, the board meeting started to break-up, with people streaming out of the room. Then, Iacocca himself strolled over to me, shook my hand and said, “I’m sorry, kid. Our meeting went a little long and we just don’t have time for your presentation. I’m sure it was brilliant.” He smiled and walked away. So, all of my angst was for naught. But I did get to meet a celebrated American CEO and live to tell the story.

Inaugurations And The Weather

On January 20, 2025, Donald Trump’s second inauguration was moved indoors due to frigid temperatures in the nation’s capital. But this wasn’t the first presidential inauguration to be impacted by weather—not by a long-shot. In fact, just 40 years ago, Ronald Reagan’s 1985 inaugural was also moved indoors due to a -25F wind chill.

But inaugurations have been snakebitten by weather from the very first one—George Washington’s inaugural in 1789. Originally scheduled for March 4, harsh winter weather slowed the travel of the First Federal Congress to New York City—where they were tasked with counting the Electoral College ballots. They finally got to New York from the far-flung 13 states on April 6th. While Washington was unanimously chosen as our first Chief Executive, it took George until April 30th to travel from his home in Mount Vernon, Virginia to New York to finally be formally sworn-in. Then, 120 years later, ten inches of snow and roaring winds forced the inauguration of William Howard Taft indoors in 1909. 

But perhaps the most notorious impact weather had on an inaugural was William Henry Harrison’s swearing-in on March 4, 1841. While the lowest temperature in Washington that day was 34 degrees, a cold rain fell on the proceedings. Harrison at the time was the oldest person to be elected President (68), and felt he needed to prove his heartiness to naysayers. So, he wore no hat, no coat and no gloves in the frigid rain. Plus, he spoke for over two hours and had previously ridden from the White House to the Capitol on a white horse (instead of the traditional carriage). Needless to say, the newly-minted 9th President fell ill and died one month after his inaugural—marking the shortest presidency in history.

So, an inaugural impacted in some way by weather is not an unusual event—in fact, it's fairly commonplace.