All the Best, George Bush: My Life in Letters and Other Writings

by George H. W. Bush

I wrote this note to my good friend Dick Jackman, who for years worked for Sun Oil in Philadelphia. He’s a great public speaker, especially well known for his humor.

  April 27, 92

  Dear Dick,

  . . . The last 5-6 months have been trying and downright ugly. The press have been awful and the campaigns have all gone after me with a vengeance. That’s the bad news.

  The good news is the economy is turning around and that will help a lot. I will continue to focus on doing my job. I will stay out of the junk-yard dog attack business.

  After the process is further along I will have to take on Clinton and who knows, even Ross Perot. I’ve known Ross a long time—a kind of take-my-marbles-and-go home kind of guy if it doesn’t go his way.

  Thanks, Dick for that wonderful letter of friendship & support

  Your friend,

  George Bush

  May 11, 1992

  Mr. John F. Welch, Jr., Chairman & CEO

  General Electric Company

  Fairfield, Connecticut

  Dear Jack,

  Bob Mosbacher told me that you had agreed to help with the coalition of business people—great!! So many thanks. These are weird and ugly political times; but I do have the feeling the heretofore sluggish economy is beginning to stir. That will help. I will concentrate on this job, then be ready to fight the political wars. It’s no fun, but having you at my side makes it one hell of a lot better.

  Warm Regards,

  George

  May 17th

  It’s Sunday, and I’m flying back from South Bend, Indiana to Washington. The weekends are wiped out and I get tired. In Houston I got to run on Friday, Saturday and this morning at 6:30 a.m., running a little over two miles each time on the outdoor track at the Houstonian. That really helps. Running in that hot weather loosens up the old joints and I feel pretty good. . . .

  We had a lovely dinner at the Kerrs. It was really fun with the Liedtkes, Brucie Ashman, Daphne Murray, Bessie Liedtke and the Nebletts right in our old neighborhood. It seemed so quiet, so normal and so nice. The kids and their kids, and their neighborhood kids with their little kids were out to greet us. The Vanderhofs even came over, which was nice. My mind went back to the wonderful games that we had in the area and the time that Jeb hit a home run through the Vanderhof girls’ window. Barbara was furious and I was thrilled because it was a second story window. It was a powerful, towering hit by our little left-hander, so it was nostalgic. We talked about the old days. Nobody got too far into the problems we face in Washington these days. . . .

  In my speech at Notre Dame today, I talked about family values. I followed the Valedictorian, who was a rather skinny and plain girl who made a pitch for more understanding about gays and lesbians. She got booed a little and, frankly, she talked longer than I did. She is a 4.0 student but one of those people that felt since the President is present, here’s a chance to give him a little lecture. She got some cheering from the crowd. I thought she went on too darn long and should have resisted getting her own social agenda out there, like “Stop bragging about victory in the Cold War,” she says. If Jerry Brown fails, they ought to get this girl right into the act—or maybe she can help out Patricia Ireland.16 It was sad and predictable. Some of it you can explain by youthful zealousness, but she came on awfully strong and awfully long—too bad.

  Anyway, nobody seemed to give a damn, and I got a very warm reception from the students when I walked in, which made me feel good . . .

  May 18th

  I can hardly believe the television coverage on Notre Dame. Barbara asked me if I was badly received—she having watched CNN last night. I said, no, everybody thought I was well received. Then I watched the morning news and the networks all picked up on it. . . . The skinny valedictorian got all the coverage on the television and it barely touched on what I had to say . . . No mention of the standing ovation and the general warmth of the crowd. Now I’m wondering what we are up against. . . .

  George Bell, who was from Philadelphia, was one of my oldest friends given that our parents were good friends. He was dying of cancer.

  May 18, 1992

  Dear George,

  Ever since I talked to Bertie and then you last week my thoughts have strayed from our nation’s business. I’ll be working on some problem, and suddenly my mind will shift; and I’ll find myself wondering if you’re hurting, how all the tests are going, who’s there with you, and on it goes.

  I wish I could be there—better still I wish I could help. I wish I knew just exactly what to do to make you feel better.

  I know you are very sick; and I also know you are a tough courageous guy. If there’s a way to whip it, you’ll find that way.

  I am President of the United States and at 67 (oops almost 68) I’ve seen a lot, experienced a lot; but one thing is very very clear to me—Friendships really count. They really matter. I treasure ours. I always have, I always will. It’s not just that you were a good sport when we did in you and Shepley for $100 way back then on the Prout’s17 tennis court. Nor is it that we go so far back that I can clearly remember your Dad and mine teasing and kidding each other when we were little kids. No it’s just plain—we’re friends; and when all is said and done that is very important to me. And there’s one other thing. I want you to know it.

  I love you very much—my friend

  George Bush

  May 19th

  The lawn looks greener than ever. The tragedy is that my three little ducklings were killed by the crows. On the first day, they got one of them; and then yesterday, the mother and the father flew away to get food and when they came back, the ducklings had been killed by the crows. I now see the male Mallard down there on the pond. It’s funny how one can’t get a little incident like this out of one’s mind. But it’s nature. The crows are mean. They start yelling at the dogs all the time and my feeling is to blast them, but I guess we can’t do that. The dogs love bouncing through the ivy—that’s where the dead birds fall. They come out dragging dead birds—horrible looking carcasses—but they love to hunt in there. They even go to the bathroom right in the middle of the ivy—no problem.

  I keep thinking of George Bell, my dear friend who is dying of liver and pancreatic cancer, and it’s just too much. It makes you very fatalistic.

  There is a crow sitting on top of a lonely pine—a small pine right out on the knoll leading down to the road, leading down to the pond. The crow is sitting all alone up there—an easy shot . . .

  June 1, 1992

  Mr. Earle M. Craig, Jr.

  Midland, Texas 79702-1351

  Dear Earle:

  I received your fax, written from the heart.

  These are very difficult days. Ross Perot is on a rocket, saying nothing, criticizing me and tapping into the anti-incumbent, anti-Washington theme.

  I do not share your view about the campaign; though I do think we have to tighten up the coordination between the staff here and the campaign. Steps have already been taken to do that.18

  The Economy is recovering and eventually that will help a lot.

  A statistic—the economy grew at 2.4 percent in the first quarter and, yet, according to polls, 70 percent of the people still think it is getting worse. There is a lag that will be corrected and the correction will help us.

  Keep the suggestions coming, old friend. Love to you and Dottie.

  Sincerely

  George

  June 6, 1992

  To: Bob Teeter/ Sam Skinner

  A reminder:

  We must figure out how to get out in front of the DEBATE question. The debate commission is moving. The nets are moving. Every goo-goo group is moving; and I just want to be sure I’m not put in a losing position. I am not sure what we should be doing.

  Maybe we should say. “Yes, I’ll debate Clinton once on domestic and once on Foreign” and we’ll [deal] with Perot after he becomes a candidate.

  Maybe we should say “If Clinton and Perot decide to do a lot of debates, fine let ‘em
go forward without me.”

  There are many other formulations.

  All Yours!

  George

  June 9th

  A big debate in the campaign is, how many television shows to do. I want to respect the office of the President, keep its dignity; but the networks are blocking out our television press conference. We may have no other choice but to do the new fad, which is the call-in shows or the network morning news. On Larry King—I told Larry I’d like to do his show, but we’ve got to do it all with a certain sense of dignity, a certain sense of propriety. I don’t want to get caught up, obviously, with Phil Donahue and these sensationalistic, left-handed Mary’s-lost-her-cousin kind of shows. . . .19

  June 10th

  Our new ducks are here and we put a cage in the pond to keep the crows from attacking them. They are doing very well today. The mother had the ducks over by the swimming pool and they walked down, leading a little procession all the way down to the pond. Then they jumped in. I went down and looked at them in the morning and then asked the groundskeeper to do something to make sure the crows don’t get them. They are very special. . . .

  I read a wonderful column in the Times of London where the writer said America is still the country where everyone else wants to live. “From recent headlines one would imagine a country teetering towards the apocalypse,” he wrote in bewilderment.

  June 11, 1992

  Mr. Charles Bremner

  c/o Times of London

  ENGLAND

  Dear Charles,

  As I fly to Rio [de Janeiro] in controversy, I am going through a huge stack of papers. Now, this minute, I’ve stopped; because in that stack was your column about the USA.

  I commend you for putting our great country into proper perspective.

  I hope that soon the nonsense—writers, the political pundits, and, yes, the candidates will understand that you have the right feel for the USA—“not sinking backwards” “forging ahead” “taking the good with the bad”.

  Obviously, after your time here, you understand us. I hope your life over there is full of new challenges and happiness, too.

  Sincerely,

  George Bush

  Doro and Bobby Koch were married at our little chapel at Camp David on June 27. It was a happy family celebration.

  June 28th

  I pick Doro up in a golf cart with flowers on it and it looked real cute. She looked beautiful. She stopped, as we walked into the church, and cried and turned around and said, “I’ll be all right.” And then she got up to the altar and Ellie was on her left and Bobby was on her right—and then Sam. The kids got a little reckless, but it was a wonderful service. Sam and Ellie turned and whispered, “Mother is crying”—but it all worked out well, and they went off. Bobby called in thoughtfully from the hotel at Dulles just to be sure we had their place and their schedule.20 . . .

  July 8th

  We’re heading for Finland.21 It’s 9:30 and bright daylight. There are tons of lakes, and we’re about to land. We’ve got some transportation: the phones work; everything is on time; helicopters; great big 747’s; beautiful room in front; I’m President of the United States and am treated with great deference.

  And yet, I have this marvelous feeling that no matter what lies over the horizon, it will be good. I think I’ll win—I’m convinced I’ll win. But this little creeping thought comes to mind—if I don’t win, I’ll be a very happy guy. I’ll be opening the beans and the franks—the beans and the brown bread Sunday nights. I’ll be washing the dishes with Bar. I’ll be going to bed early every once in awhile; do something to help someone else; hold my grandchildren in my arms; look for the shellfish; take them fishing. If I make any money, I might say to Noelle, “Let’s fly to Helsinki. Let me show you what it’s like half way around the world.”

  I’ll watch Ellie grow up. I’ll hold Pierce and Lauren and Ashley. I’ll make it up to Neil. I’ll spend time up at Texas A&M22 teaching, maybe; but just blending in; growing old with grace and kindness; and truly count my blessings. And then every once in awhile, some big shot will come in—some officeholder, some King, some Prince, some Prime Minister, and some President, and they’ll say, “I’d like to see old George Bush.”

  I’ll invite them to our little house and we’ll have no press corps, no following, no frantic statements, and we’ll look back together and say these were interesting times. And then at night, I’ll say that I did my very best, tried my hardest, kept it honest; and put something back into the system.

  July 21, 1992

  The Honorable Hugh Gregg

  Nashua, New Hampshire 03062

  Dear Hugh,

  No, no your ‘impertinence’ is not boundless, you’re checking in is helpful—a reality check, if you will.

  I don’t agree on all points. We must make the American people understand why the good proposals I have made have not been passed. Read [David] McCullough’s new book on Truman, and read how Harry put it in perspective.

  Since your memo was written, Clinton-Gore23 have gone into orbit. They have been hyper critical of me. I have been relatively silent. This has got to change. I recognize the danger of the “Blame Syndrome”, however.

  Hugh, I’m rushing off to yet another event, but I have digested your letter and, believe me, it did not offend.

  Love to all Greggs,

  George

  My friend Bill Clark, former head of the NSC and deputy secretary of state in the Reagan administration, wrote a note saying he did not think we were doing enough to solve the growing ethnic violence in the Balkans. As a result, he said he could no longer support me.

  July 21, 1992

  The Honorable William P. Clark

  Paso Robles, California 93446

  Dear Bill,

  I received your personal letter of July 15 and needless to say I’m terribly disappointed. We’re trying very hard to have a constructive policy in that troubled area of the world. Neither the Serbs nor the Croatians are without blame when it comes to the killing. Although clearly we put the major share of the blame on Milosevic.24

  When I was abroad I had a brief meeting with Tudjman25 and a meeting with the Bosnian President. We’re terribly troubled by all of this and without throwing a lot of American troops into the fray, we’re trying to bring about peace in the area. It is not easy and I would welcome your suggestions as to how the policy should be changed.

  I do understand the depth of your feeling and Bill, you’ve got to know that I respect not only your frankness but the warm, personal words.26 I am engaged in a very tough battle for re-election. At this moment, we are way behind in the polls, but I have a quiet confidence that I will win. Obviously, I regret your decision and some day I hope you will be back at my side in the political wars.

  My warmest best wishes to Joan. You have indeed been my friend and I hope that that will continue.

  Most sincerely,

  George

  As we headed toward the fall campaign, I became concerned that we needed to shore up the White House staff for the tough battle ahead. I turned to an old friend. Jim Baker took a leave of absence as secretary of state and became White House chief of staff and senior counselor to the President.

  8-13-92

  Jim—

  As I listened to that thunderous applause at State just now,27 I realized just how much you are giving up to come here. I am so very grateful.

  Get some rest. I’m glad we will be side by side in the battle ahead—

  Your Friend,

  George

  August 22nd

  The Convention has come and gone. It’s been the darndest rollercoaster ride I’ve ever seen, but we apparently got a good bounce out of the Convention. I checked the morning paper and it says we’re 2 points back which is statistically an even race. I don’t believe it at all, but everyone thinks things have turned. . . .

  The Gulfport, Mississippi, rally was magnificently upbeat. People were waiting for two to three hours in the hot, hot sun and
it was entirely different, and a more upbeat spirit then before the Convention. They all talked about it, and the signs reflected it. . . .

  There was a tremendous rally in Branson, Missouri: Mo Bandy and Loretta Lynn and others. There were literally 15,000 people out there and I would have said even more. There were signs as far as you could see. The chant that is catching on is: “Clean the House.”28 The crowd has been doing it—not me. . . .

  September 3rd

  Tonight Bar came home. She had been down in Florida and she had been campaigning with Gerald McRaney, Major Dad of television fame. She said he was absolutely fantastic. He stepped right in and defended me and doing this out of his own kindness and his own belief. She said he was wonderful.

  I went for a run on the White House grounds, analyzing the Teeter poll results which were most discouraging, and then called Bar up and she came down and we walked around the front grounds. Our ducks were all gone, so we came up, sat on the porch, and had a nice drink before dinner, hoping the ducks would come back in. But nothing happened other than a little softball action across the fence towards the monument. It’s peaceful, quiet, and the weather was perfect . . .

  I found my mind drifting off—what happens if we should not make it? . . . I guess I’d have to say that I would have failed. Then I said to myself, it’s not going to happen. I’m a better person, better qualified, and better character to be President, despite some shortcomings that I may have and there are plenty of them . . .

  Everything is ugly and everything is nasty. But we are a family, and I have a certain inner quiet peace, which I’m not sure I’ve ever had in a situation like this. . . .

  September 12, 1992

  To: JAB III

  I note that we are to do some ‘filming’ at Camp David.

  I have been very careful about using Camp David in any way for publicity. I have done a broadcast from up here. If, indeed, we need to do some family shooting here we must be sure that we don’t shoot in any way to call attention to Camp David itself.