The first nationally televised three-person presidential debate in U.S. history was held in the Athletic Complex Field House on Oct. 11.
Approximately 100 million Americans and millions of people worldwide watched the debate on television. Meanwhile, some 250 Washington University students joined the media, dignitaries and invited guests inside the debate hall. Chancellor William H. Danforth welcomed the audience to "what used to be the Washington University Field House," which was extensively remodeled for the event. Following his remarks, Danforth left the debate hall to watch the event with students in Edison Theatre.
At center stage were the three candidates -- bathed in 200,000 watts of theatrical lighting and ringed by eight cameras. The event's producers anticipated the largest non-sports audience in the history of television.
Independent candidate Ross Perot, Arkansas Gov. Bill Clinton and then President George Bush took the stage in an order determined by an earlier drawing. Opposite each candidate was his camera, its lens ringed by blue Christmas-tree lights to mark its position. The usual red lights that signal when a television camera is active were eliminated for the debate, a precaution to prevent the candidates from hunting for the camera that was working.
Perot's preferences remained the wild card; everything else had been decided. By noon on Sunday the problems had been reduced to determining the size and shape of the panelists' water carafes. The original water pitchers, approved by the Bush and Clinton campaigns, were determined to be distracting in shots of the panelists, who sat facing the candidates, with their backs to the audience. When no smaller pitchers could be found, a Washington University staff member went looking for the right size.
Ed Fouhy, executive producer of the 1992 debates, referred to the event he was staging as "the show." In order for him to be satisfied, the exacting demands of a television production had to be met. No matter that the participants were live and unpredictable politicians, not actors with lines.
Security was even more precisely managed, with some decisions closely held. At least 10 different credentials were issued. Each was a colored card worn on a string or a beaded chain around the neck. Secret Service agents invariably asked to see the printed side of any card that had turned over, and access to particular areas of the Athletic Complex was restricted to those bearing specific credentials.
Late Sunday morning, everyone in the Athletic Complex was evacuated from the building for about 45 minutes so that the Secret Service could conduct a thorough search. After the "sweep," anyone entering or re-entering the building had to pass through a magnetometer. Every bag was searched by hand. Cameras and tape recorders were checked to make sure they actually operated and weren't simply a hiding place for bombs.
The Field House was opened to the press and to ticket holders at 3:30 p.m., following the candidates' rehearsals. At 5:15 p.m., the room was locked down, and no one entered or left except film runners. The runners, student volunteers, carried exposed film from still photographers (34 had credentials for the hall floor) to the darkrooms set up in the men's and women's locker rooms by the pool. Once a film runner exited the room, he or she was not allowed back in.
When the Field House doors opened, Bart Rowen, economics columnist for the Washington Post, was the first to enter. Rowen, one of about 1,000 who received press credentials, came wearing a trench coat to resist the 65-degree temperature in the Field House. The cool air was necessary to keep the candidates from perspiring under the lights. He also brought apples to sustain him while he waited and soaked up atmosphere. "I don't have to be here," Rowen said, "but on television, you don't get the interaction; the camera usually sees one at a time." So Rowen flew in and planned to watch debate videotape later in the interest of the best possible reporting.
Also among the press was Stefano Del Re, correspondent for Panorama, the Italian equivalent of Time magazine. It was his opinion that more people are vitally interested in this year's debate than the debate held four years ago. Del Re recognized news anchor Tom Brokaw on the NBC network platform. He watched as Brokaw was briefed by Tim Russert of NBC's "Meet The Press." Brokaw then ate his dinner from a plate on his lap before viewing the debate on a small monitor, his back to the candidates.
Below Brokaw's perch, a live audience of some 600 people put their fervor on hold for the good of the millions watching on television. Moderator Jim Lehrer made it clear that the event was staged for telecast, and in good humor he cautioned the audience, "Remember, I interrupt people for a living. If you make too much noise, I'll embarrass you on national television."
Few outbursts occurred; Carol Smith of Jackson, Mo., an avid Perot supporter, and her two companions were the only audience members who cheered. After the debate, Smith, the only one who carried a sign into the Field House, explained, "He is the candidate who has something to say to the people. I can't help it, I'm excited."
When the debate ended and the candidates moved on to their individual off-campus rallies, workers began breaking down the set. By 11 p.m., the dismantled stage was in trucks and on its way to Richmond, Va., where it was scheduled to serve as a backdrop for the second debate.