Thanks to the efforts of Reagan and Thatcher, global communism has been severely weakened. Before Reagan’s election, it was almost unthinkable that the Soviet Union and its satellite countries in Eastern Europe would embrace democracy, but that process has already begun. Poland is just five months away from its first partially free elections since 1928. Emboldened, the people of East Germany will soon rise up and do as Ronald Reagan demanded of Mikhail Gorbachev: ten months from now, on November 9, 1989, the Berlin Wall will collapse.
None of this would have happened without Ronald Reagan’s unswerving lifelong belief in freedom and America’s exceptionalism. England’s Iron Lady understands that: “Your beliefs, your convictions, your faith shone through everything you did,” Thatcher responded to Reagan’s letter. “You have been an example and inspiration to us all.”
* * *
Ronald Reagan opens the top drawer of the empty Resolute desk and checks to make sure the workers did not remove a note he placed there yesterday. It is tradition for the outgoing president to leave a simple message for his successor in the Oval Office. Reagan’s handwritten letter wishes Bush good luck and reminds the new president that he will be in his prayers.
Despite the warm tone, there is tension between Reagan and Bush, stemming from the campaign. Ronald Reagan endorsed the candidacy of his former vice president but did very little campaigning on his behalf. Some believe Reagan was snubbing Bush, but the truth is the Bush campaign wanted the candidate to be his own man. A barnstorming Ronald Reagan could easily have overshadowed the less charismatic Bush.
The residence has become a beloved home to Ronald and Nancy. Reagan is a sentimental man and very much moved by the sense of history filling that space. The president is convinced that the ghost of Abraham Lincoln haunts the residence. He has stated that he can sometimes hear the creak of Franklin Roosevelt’s wheelchair gliding from one room to another, and he once told a friend he could easily imagine the ghost of Teddy Roosevelt mumbling his trademark cheer of “Bully.”
“We were familiar with every room and hallway,” Reagan will later write, “and had the warmest memories of our life in that beautiful historic mansion.”
But now it is time to go.
National Security Adviser Colin Powell steps into the Oval Office to give Reagan his last-ever daily briefing. “The world is quiet today, Mr. President,” the former army general says succinctly.
Reagan reaches into the jacket pocket of his crisp blue suit. He pulls out the plastic card he has carried with him every day since taking office. It authenticates that he is president of the United States. In the event of a nuclear war he will present this to the military attaché who remains near him at all times, whereupon the special briefcase known as the “football” will be opened and the nuclear launch codes revealed.
“What do I do with this?” he asks Powell.
“Hang on to it,” Powell replies. “You’re still president.”
* * *
Ronald Reagan’s last official act as president of the United States takes place just before 11:00 a.m., as he hands the plastic authentication card to his air force military aide. Now, at 12:40 on a bitter cold Washington day, with George Bush already sworn in as the forty-first president of the United States, Ron and Nancy Reagan step aboard a government helicopter to begin the journey back to California. As he is no longer president, the call name Marine One no longer applies to the official aircraft. It is Nighthawk One that lifts off from the Capitol, taking the couple to Andrews Air Force Base.
The moment, in Nancy’s words, is “wrenching.” They have participated in a long list of “final” scenes in the past few weeks: final visit to Camp David, final dinner in the White House, and final moment with the press. This morning, at their good-bye reception, is when it hit Nancy the hardest that it was over. “We were supposed to have coffee, but I don’t remember drinking any. Then it was time to leave for the inauguration,” she will later write.
As she and Barbara Bush share a limousine to the swearing-in, Nancy gazes out the window at the White House Lawn, wondering if the magnolia trees she planted will survive long enough for her grandchildren to see them. “My heart ached as I looked at those beautiful grounds I was unlikely to see again.”
Time and events have changed Nancy Reagan. Shortly after her return from Berlin in 1987, the First Lady was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent a mastectomy to remove one breast. The procedure was a success, and Nancy’s very public ordeal softened her in the eyes of many. With the end of her husband’s presidency, whatever animosity may have existed between the Reagans and the media has now been replaced by nostalgic warmth. Walter Cronkite brought the Reagans onstage for a round of applause at the recent Kennedy Center Honors, leading the orchestra in a chorus of “Auld Lang Syne.” And even Sam Donaldson, the ABC newsman who has been baiting the Reagans for eight years, approached Nancy recently to say that he would miss them.
As the helicopter lifts off, the Reagans take one last look at the White House. They push their faces against the windows, straining to see the glory of their former home. Below them sprawl the vast lawns, fountains, and famous columns they have come to know so well. Even as they look down, movers are hauling their furniture into trucks for transport back to their new home in Beverly Hills. The Bush family furniture, meanwhile, is being installed in its place.
“Look honey,” says Reagan, not taking his eyes off the White House. “There’s our little shack.”
The pilot finally banks away, steering the VH-60N helicopter to Andrews—the Reagans vanishing into the clouds.
30
MAYO CLINIC
ROCHESTER, MINNESOTA
SEPTEMBER 8, 1989
11:00 A.M.
Eight months later, the White House is the last thing on Ronald Reagan’s mind.
A surgical drill hums as the former president lies flat on his back in an operating room. Fifty-nine-year-old brain surgeon Dr. Thoralf Sundt presses the bit against the right side of Reagan’s skull and carefully opens a hole the size of a nickel in his cranium. Two months ago, Reagan was thrown from a horse while riding at a friend’s ranch in Mexico, just south of the Arizona border.
The horses used during the ride were unshod and left to run wild when not saddled, leading Secret Service agent John Barletta to warn Reagan against the ride. Nancy took the advice, but the former president did not. On the second day at the ranch, Reagan’s horse was spooked by a wild bull. It began bucking wildly. At first, Reagan was able to hang on. But the frightened horse continued kicking its hind legs straight up into the air, and on the third buck, Reagan was hurled from the saddle. He flew so high that his entire body rose above the heads of those riding alongside him.
Reagan landed hard, slamming his head into the rocky soil, just missing a patch of cactus. “Rawhide down,” Agent Barletta yelled into his radio, marking the first time those words had been uttered since the assassination attempt of eight years earlier.
Reagan lay unconscious, but he soon revived. At first he appeared uninjured. Nevertheless, he was flown by military helicopter to an army hospital in Arizona, where he was treated for scrapes and bruises, then brought back to the ranch to continue the vacation—albeit without any further horseback rides.
But unbeknownst to Reagan and his doctors, a blood vessel in his head ruptured during the fall. For two months fluid has been leaking into his skull, causing a clot that is slowly putting pressure on Reagan’s brain. This condition, known as a subdural hematoma, alters mood and vision and elevates levels of dementia. Patients often complain of headaches or simply fall into a stupor before seeking treatment. But Reagan’s hematoma is a silent killer, with no outward symptoms other than his usual forgetfulness. Were it not for his annual physical here at the Mayo Clinic, the former president’s condition might never have been discovered. But a precautionary CAT scan located the clot, and Reagan was rushed into surgery.
Dr. Sundt removes the drill, then looks through the opening
at Reagan’s brain. In the course of his job, the esteemed surgeon glimpses the human brain on an almost daily basis. But this is the brain of a living president. Dr. Sundt has the unique opportunity to save Reagan’s life.
Clinically, the procedure Reagan is undergoing is known as a burr. In many cases, it is necessary to drill a second and even third hole to ease the pressure, but the brain surgeon is satisfied that one burr is enough for Reagan.
And that, seemingly, is that. Less than an hour after being sedated, Ronald Reagan is wheeled into the recovery room. His doctors are satisfied that Reagan shows no signs of the stroke, nerve damage, or paralysis so common in elderly patients suffering from head trauma. But the truth is that despite the operation, the fall has accelerated Reagan’s debilitating condition.
Nancy Reagan will one day sum it up best: “I’ve always had the feeling that the severe blow to his head in 1989 hastened the onset of Ronnie’s Alzheimer’s.”
* * *
Four years later, Ronald Reagan is still functioning. The date is February 6, 1993, and the occasion is Reagan’s eighty-second birthday. Reagan and Margaret Thatcher chat amiably about their lives since leaving office. Unlike Reagan, Thatcher did not go of her own accord. She was forced out by her own Conservative Party in 1990 and cried as she left 10 Downing Street for the last time.1 Now, at age sixty-seven, she makes her living giving speeches at fifty thousand dollars per appearance and works on her memoirs. The state of dementia in which she will spend her twilight years is still almost a decade away, and she is sharp as she stands next to Reagan in the “Oval Office.”
The birthday fund-raiser is not at the White House but in Simi Valley, California. Tonight Reagan and Thatcher are standing in the exact replica of the Oval Office now on display here at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library. Thatcher and a host of celebrities have gathered for this five-hundred-dollar-per-plate dinner to raise money for the library. Old Hollywood friends Jimmy Stewart and Merv Griffin and media mogul Rupert Murdoch are among the five hundred guests at the black-tie affair. The festive night sold out immediately.
Reagan and Thatcher move into the great white tent pitched on the library lawn, where dinner will be served. The menu is crab-stuffed fillet of sole, prime rib, and baby potatoes, all washed down with the California wines Ronald Reagan has long enjoyed. Dessert will be another longtime Reagan favorite, Häagen-Dazs ice cream topped with fudge sauce.
The night belongs to Ronald Reagan, and it is Margaret Thatcher who rises first to pay homage. She praises him for bringing “the Evil Empire crashing down.”
“If Ronald Reagan’s birthday is celebrated warmly in California,” continues Thatcher, “it is celebrated even more warmly in Prague, Warsaw, Budapest and Moscow itself.”
Then it’s Reagan’s turn to toast Thatcher. “Thank you, Margaret, for those very kind words,” he begins. Reagan’s toast continues at length. He wrote and memorized it beforehand. On paper, the speech fills four typewritten pages. “I don’t think I really deserve such a fuss for my birthday. But as George Burns once said, ‘I have arthritis and I don’t deserve that, either,’” he says with a smile.
Reagan continues. “Margaret, you have always been a staunch ally and a very dear friend. For all of us, I say thank you for the immense role you have played in shaping a better world. And I personally thank you for the honor of your presence tonight.”
As he finishes, the entire tent thunders with roars of “hear, hear” and the clinking of glasses.
Moments later, Reagan stands to deliver a second toast.
Anticipation grows as the former president stands erect, his blue eyes shining, his tuxedo perfectly fitted to his body, which looks a decade younger than his actual age of eighty-two. To the casual observer, Ronald Reagan appears to be fit and healthy.
Slowly, he turns to Margaret Thatcher and raises his glass once again. Mrs. Thatcher is beaming, and the audience eagerly awaits Reagan’s next memorable line. Smiling, he begins to speak.
“Thank you, Margaret, for those very kind words,” he says, raising his glass. “I don’t think I really deserve such a fuss for my birthday. But as George Burns once said, ‘I have arthritis and I don’t deserve that, either,’” Reagan says with a chuckle.
Immediately, shock envelops the room as Ronald Reagan, word for word, delivers the same exact four-page toast to Margaret Thatcher that he uttered just a few moments ago.
Reagan continues for two excruciating minutes.
“And I personally thank you for the honor of your presence here tonight,” the former president tells Margaret Thatcher, raising his glass once again.
Reagan’s friends sit in stunned silence.
31
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
JUNE 1994
MORNING
The man with ten years to live has been dealt a stunning blow.
His daughter, forty-one-year-old Patti Davis, is now fully exposed for the entire country to see. Playboy magazine is on newsstands everywhere, its cover promising a father’s ultimate humiliation. Patti wears nothing but a smile as the hands of a muscular unseen man cup her bare breasts. The magazine’s lurid headline promises that “Ronald Reagan’s Renegade Daughter” will tell all.
As Patti Davis has intended, her father is deeply wounded by his estranged daughter’s latest attempt to embarrass him. For years, Reagan has struggled to deal with his rebellious children. But Patti has always been the biggest problem. From her defiant liberal politics to her open use of marijuana, she has striven to be the polar opposite of Ronald and Nancy Reagan in every way.
Just two years ago, Patti published a tell-all memoir about life in the “dysfunctional” Reagan family. The book revealed Nancy’s dependence on tranquilizers and diuretics, along with the fact that Patti was so afraid of becoming pregnant and parenting as her mother had that she had herself rendered infertile with a tubal ligation at the age of twenty-four. In addition, Patti openly led a lifestyle that flaunted a libertine attitude on social issues. One writer described her as “an angry daughter with scores still to settle.”
Now, grinning on the cover of Playboy, she has humiliated her mother and father—and the whole world knows it.
Patti Davis publicly states that her rebellion is Nancy’s fault, saying that her mother was physically and emotionally abusive, a chronic prescription drug user who slapped her daughter when she ate too much and even slapped her when she began menstruating at a very young age. When she told her father about the abuse, Davis alleged, Ronald Reagan called her a liar.
“Patti you are hurting us—your parents—but you are hurting yourself even more,” Reagan wrote to his daughter in 1991, when word leaked that she was writing her tell-all memoir.
“We are not a dysfunctional family,” Reagan’s letter continues. “Patti, in our meeting at the office you said your mother didn’t like you. That’s not true. Yes, she’s unhappy about the way things are but again I can show you photos in which the love between you is unmistakable. And these pictures are at almost every stage of your life. Pictures don’t lie.”
Reagan concludes: “Please Patti, don’t take away our memories of a daughter we truly love and who we miss.
“With Love, Dad.”
But Patti Davis did not listen, and her defiance is clear in each and every photo in Playboy. She looks straight into the camera, knowing that every click of the photographer’s shutter publicly will humiliate the man whom she considers a failure as a father.
It is a stunning betrayal.
* * *
Two months earlier, Ronald Reagan experienced another episode of public embarrassment.
The date is April 27, 1994. Ronald and Nancy Reagan are attending the funeral of Richard Nixon. Twenty years after the Watergate scandal brought him down, and less than a year after his beloved wife, Pat, succumbed to lung cancer, the thirty-seventh president of the United States is dead of a stroke at the age of eighty-one. Nixon is being laid to rest on the grounds of his birthplace and
presidential library in Yorba Linda, California. Despite hitting afternoon traffic on the drive south from Beverly Hills, it takes the Reagans just a little over an hour to arrive for the 4:00 p.m. ceremony.1
There are four former presidents and the current chief executive, Bill Clinton, at the funeral. In addition, a crowd of four thousand sits in folding chairs, awaiting the start of the ceremony. Among the last to be seated are the former presidents and their wives. There is no formal introduction, but as a Marine Corps band plays light triumphal music, each couple walks to their seats, to polite applause.
Gerald and Betty Ford, Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter, George and Barbara Bush, and President Clinton and wife Hillary all take their seats.
But it is the arrival of Ronald and Nancy Reagan that steals the show. As the television audience and those in attendance look on, Reagan’s confusion is apparent. Making their way down the steps after Ford and before Carter, the former president holds tight to Nancy’s hand. She leads him like a child, walking in front and pulling him along. Reagan looks bewildered and frequently swivels his head. He wears a fascinated smile, as if not sure what all the hoopla is about. As the audience breaks into applause, Nancy whispers to her husband, telling him to wave to the crowd.
He dutifully obliges.
As the Reagans take their seats between the Carters and Bushes, Ronald Reagan’s physical decline is clear as well. Compared to Gerald Ford, who at age eighty is just two and a half years younger, Reagan looks frail and wrinkled. Ford thinks he looks “hollowed out,” and Bush is telling friends that he is deeply worried about Reagan. Carter, for his part, thinks that Reagan’s responses to everyday questions are “not right.”
Ronald and Nancy Reagan at President Richard Nixon’s funeral
But even as these former presidents are well aware of Reagan’s decline, there is a general consensus among the media that the matter must be kept hushed until the Reagan family chooses to make it public.
Nixon’s funeral is Ronald Reagan’s last major appearance. After a lifetime of performing, the actor has now left the stage.
Killing Reagan Page 23