A pleasant and plodding self-portrait whose very lack of bombshells may explain prepublication interest in the Nixon pardon. "I have to confess that my televised talk failed to emphasize adequately that I wanted to give my full attention to grave economic and foreign policy matters," Ford explains. But the story from Ford's perspective is not without drama. On August 1, 1974, he learns from Alexander Haig about the incriminating tapes, and as the news spreads, we see the Presidency shifting to him even before Nixon's resignation. The transition team is working; Ford is briefed on domestic and foreign issues; Senators discuss how to deal with Nixon ("We can't support him any longer," says Goldwater); and at a meditation with House colleagues, Ford notes that everyone else's prayers "were all in my behalf as the potential President."

After a brief summary of his youth (Michigan, Yale, the Navy, marriage), Ford methodically chronicles his Presidency, jumping from the Middle East to crime, the economy, the Mayaguez. He dislikes Agnew ("a well-groomed but somehow diffident man who seemed to talk out of the corners of his mouth"); blames Nixon's "pride and personal contempt for weakness" for destroying his ability to tell right from wrong; regrets not speaking against Joe McCarthy; might choose Anne Armstrong as a running-mate, given another chance; and names John Connally as Nixon's choice of successor. There is little about the family--Ford bursts into tears upon learning of his wife's breast cancer--but brash White House photographer David Kennerly is quoted often, seemingly to lighten things up. A conscientious account, if not memorable.