They received standing ovations from thirty members—and stony silence from the other seventy. Sixteen years earlier Henry Cabot Lodge had chaired this committee. Now he was being treated like an alien. He returned to the Mark Hopkins, made his way through the gilded, mirrored—and, this week, mobbed—lobby to the elevator, and found himself accosted by a raving Goldwaterite: “I voted for you in 1960, but never again. You’re terrible!” Lodge shot back, “You’re terrible, too.” He repaired to his suite, leafed through the roll of delegates, and cried, “What in God’s name has happened to the
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