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| A Farewell... |
June 09, 2004 |
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"Whatever else history may say about me when I’m gone, I hope it will record that I appealed to your best hopes, not your worst fears; to your confidence rather than your doubts. My dream is that you will travel the road ahead with liberty’s lamp guiding your steps and opportunity’s arm steadying your way."
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Dear Friends,
It is hot and humid in Washington today, a hazy day that foreshadows the depths of a Washington summer. All of our regular work has been suspended this week as we honor and lay to rest President Ronald Reagan.
Yesterday morning, in our regular meeting of members, Speaker Hastert outlined what to expect. There are very few members of the House who were here the last time we had a state funeral. It’s been thirty years. And he took a moment for personal privilege. Denny Hastert represents Dixon, Illinois, the boyhood town of Ronald Reagan. And while he went west to pursue his dream and became a son of California, Illinois still claims him, and so does Denny.
We gathered in the House chamber at 6 p.m. when the motorcade carrying the President’s casket was on its way to Washington from Andrews Air Force base, and went into the Rotunda, where Lincoln first lay in state to wait. We did not watch the caisson rolling down Pennsylvania Avenue to the west face of the Capitol, but we felt the rumble of the guns when the procession arrived.
Many of us there, Senators and House members, the President’s Cabinet and the diplomatic corps, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, silently reflected on how this man had influenced us. Over the last few days, small snippets and stories have been shared, friend to friend about this optimistic President.
I stood with members of the House at the far end of the flag draped casket. From where I stood I could look across it into the frail, weary face of Nancy Reagan and see the strain on the faces of the eight military pall bearers who carried that mahogany casket to the catafalque on which Lincoln also rested. I could look up to the domed ceiling of the rotunda at the portrait of George Washington, gazing down benevolently at all of us.
The young soldier who carried the colors into the rotunda was a sergeant in the 3rd Infantry Division – the Old Guard. It occurred to me that I had been about his age when Ronald Reagan became President and delivered his inaugural address not far from where we both stood. On that morning in January 1981 I had command post duty and, with two other cadets, I went out at the call of the bugles and raised the flag over the Air Force Academy. Excused from class to run the command post for the day, I remember watching the inauguration and simultaneously listening to reports on the progress of the hostages held in Iran who were coming home. A little after noon, we announced over the loudspeakers that the Algerian aircraft carrying the American hostages had left Iranian airspace. That nightmare was over.
On the day of his inauguration, I had misgivings. You see, I did not grow up in a political family. I cannot even tell you what party my parents were registered as. It wasn’t something we talked about. When I turned 18, I registered as a Democrat for, what I thought, was a pretty good reason: the man who had nominated me to go to the Air Force Academy was a Democrat. I was a Democrat when Reagan was President.  It wasn’t until later in my 20s that I changed my party registration and became a Republican. In retrospect, I can see the leadership he provided to the nation in a different light.
The music echoes like a cathedral in the rotunda of the Capitol. And when the echo of the Air Force Singing Sergeant’s beautiful version of America had died away, Vice President Cheney escorted Mrs. Reagan for a moment to the casket. She caressed the flag as if she was straightening his tie before a dinner speech and whispered some words to him that even those of us quite close to her could not hear. I felt sad for her at that moment, and simultaneously grateful, for all that she has done and been over the last decade.
Wish you were here,
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