Summary of “The Secrets of Lyndon Johnson’s Archives, by Robert A. Caro”

Lyndon Johnson had been invariably, in his correspondence, the junior to the senior.
Tommy Corcoran had been wrong: Lyndon Johnson had for once put something in writing.
The congressmen were going to need money for future campaigns, and they had learned that a good way to get it-in some cases the only way-was through Lyndon Johnson.
We worked from nine to five, when the library closed, and then I would hurry out to my car and drive to the Hill Country to interview one of the men or women who had grown up with Lyndon Johnson.
Kitty Clyde Ross, Lyndon Johnson’s first girlfriend, was Kitty Clyde Leonard now, but she was still in Johnson City, available to be talked to.
At the time I started, there were already seven biographies of Johnson in print, and they all related the same anecdotes, which portrayed young Lyndon as a sort of Horatio Alger hero of the Hill Country, smiling and popular, who had risen through ambition and hard work.
I persuaded the National Park Service to allow Sam Houston and me to go into the Johnson Boyhood Home, in Johnson City, which had been faithfully re-created to look as it had when Lyndon was growing up in it.
At first, Alice’s sister and her friend said, Johnson brought Lady Bird, but soon, they said, “He would leave her on weekends, weekend after weekend,” and come to Longlea, where “Sometimes Charles would be there, and sometimes Charles wouldn’t be there.” Lyndon and Alice had become lovers, and the affair lasted for years, right under the nose of a man vitally important to Lyndon’s career.

The orginal article.