[Sunday, June 6, 2004 entry]

When I finished Saturday's entry, I rushed home, planning to write a post comparing and contrasting Ronald Reagan with John Kerry. As soon as I walked in the door, though, I heard the news that President Reagan had passed away, and I realized this was not a day for politics.

It is with an odd mixture of equal parts sadness and relief that I write this. Sadness that there is no longer a Ronald Reagan in the world, and relief that President Reagan is no longer a prisoner in his own body, betrayed by his own mind.

In the hours of the afternoon of September 11, 2001, one thought kept popping into my head -- this country needs Ronald Reagan to hold it together. George W. Bush is many things, but the Great Communicator is not one of them. I thought back at the countless times I'd winced as Bush stumbled over the pronunciation of a word and honestly didn't know if he would be up to the job of giving voice to our national grief and anger. Thankfully, in the days following 9/11 George W. Bush and Rudy Giuliani did an admirable, even heroic, job of preventing this nation from falling apart.

Then came Columbia. Again I found myself wishing the Gipper could step in and set the tone. While Bush gave a good speech, telling us all the astronauts were safely home, it was not a great speech, like the one where Reagan told us the Challenger Seven had slipped the surly bonds of earth and touched the face of God.

I'm trying to find one moment that symbolizes everything about President Reagan. Many give us a glimpse of him, but none gives the whole picture.

There was his way of disarming his opponents by being so damn likeable. Mondale was doomed in that second debate from the moment Reagan promised not to exploit his youth and inexperience. He had to laugh, even if only to dispel the perception that he was a bitter, joyless old man. And after laughing, how does one switch gears and go for the jugular?

There was his joking on the way to the emergency room after being shot and, as we would learn later, nearly killed. I forgot to duck, Nancy. I hope you doctors are Republicans.

Today, Mr. President, we are all Republicans.

There was his robust chopping of wood at an age of greater than eighty. There was his growling insistence that he PAID for that microphone, and the unspoken follow-up that he'd say whatever he damn well wanted.

There was his selective inability to hear questions he didn't want to answer over the whirl of helicopter blades. There was his insistence that he didn't recall. Not that he COULDN'T recall, mind you, but that he DIDN'T.

There were his beloved jelly beans.

There was the malaise of the America he inherited, and the optimism of the America he left behind. There was his successful beating back of the notion that America is the cause of all the world's problems, a notion now creeping back into political circles. There was his belief that it is a good thing to strive to be better than you currently are. There was his insistence that the government get off our backs.

There was that speech in Berlin, urging Gorbachev to tear down the wall. There was that convention speech after he left office where he started shaky but grew younger and stronger the longer he talked.

And there was that letter-- the one where he was comforting the nation about his revelation that he had Alzheimer's Disease. Even that letter was full of optimism and faith.

But the one image that sticks in my mind was repeated countless times in the Reagan years. The Commander in Chief steps down off Marine One, or sometimes Air Force One, sharply dressed in a dark suit, with a spring in his step. He stops at the bottom, turns stiffly to the man in uniform waiting there for him, and snaps a crisp, proud salute to him. None of this strolling lazily off the aircraft in a bomber jacket and delivering a limp salute because you have to, like Clinton did. And even George W. Bush hasn't mastered the technique, though he's tried.

What that image says to me is pride. It says respect. It says honor. But it doesn't just say those things about how we feel about President Reagan. It says those things about how Reagan felt about the office of the Presidency and about the armed forces. And about America. And about us.

Today, we are all Republicans, Mr. President. Now go catch up on things with Maureen. It's morning in Heaven.


Oh Captain! My Captain!
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.


O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.


My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

Walt Whitman (1819-1892)