THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, November 3, 1996 TAG: 9611030146
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: NORTH CAROLINA
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Paul South
DATELINE: ROANOKE ISLAND LENGTH: 62 lines
In his gray felt fedora, blue blazer, gray trousers, Windsor-knotted tie and spit-shined black shoes, 84-year-old William F. Donald looks like an elder statesman comfortable in the corridors of power.
In his younger days, during the Truman administration, Donald had access to a special entrance at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave., as well as across the street at Blair House, where White House visitors often stay. The door was hidden from view and only Secret Service agents and gate guards would see him come and go.
Donald was no diplomat or national security adviser. Nor was he part of a ``kitchen cabinet'' for the plain-spoken man from Independence, Mo.
But for eight years, Donald, who now lives in Kill Devil Hills, knew something about the White House kitchen, and its cabinets.
From 1946 to 1953, Donald was bread man at the White House - a sandwich away from the presidency, some might say.
``I drove a truck for Bond Bread,'' Donald recalled. ``The White House and Blair House were on my route. I got to where I knew the guards and the Secret Service fellas. One day, I saw the president.''
Donald remembered his lone meeting with the chief executive.
``I came up to the gate, and there was the president. He said, `Go on in there, Mr. Bread Man.' I said, `Sir, if I go in past these guys, they'll kill me.' He thought that was funny.''
In his own way, Donald contributed to the national well-being.
``I got to know the chef pretty well,'' Donald remembers. ``He told me that every night around midnight, the president would come down and have a ham sandwich and a glass of milk. That made me feel good.''
Donald was on the prestigious route when two Puerto Rican nationalists attacked Blair House on Nov. 1, 1950, in an attempt to assassinate Truman.
``I remember Truman was upstairs taking a nap,'' Donald said. ``He said later on that if he had been able, he'd have gotten his shotgun and fought 'em off. He was something.''
Truman, however, didn't have a monopoly on moxie. Donald has his own share of chutzpah. Listen as he tells the story of how he got his job selling Bond Bread:
``I was working selling bread door-to-door for another company. The president of the baking company that sold Bond Bread was on my route. I sold him cinnamon rolls, a dozen doughnuts, all kinds of stuff. He said, `The way you sell, and the way you talk, you ought to be working for us.'
``I said, `I'd love to work there. I've tried. But the sales manager won't give me the time of day.' The next thing I knew, the man handed me a note, and said, `He will now.'
``I got hired that day.''
Donald retired form his bread delivery job in 1975, but left the White House route in 1953, with the start of the Eisenhower administration. For Donald, a lifelong Democrat, the arrival of the Republican president meant the bun stopped there.
``I left when the Republican came in,'' Bond says, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
With Tuesday's election looming large, Donald doesn't hesitate when asked his choice for the presidency. But Bill Clinton, Bob Dole, nor Ross Perot get a rise from the former White House bread man.
``I'd vote for Harry Truman,'' Donald says. ``He was the best we've ever had. He said exactly what was on his mind. I like that.''
For Donald, any man who ate midnight snacks on Bond Bread can't be all bad. by CNB