All the Best, George Bush: My Life in Letters and Other Writings
Page 73
When the recent sniper attacks were going on,28 I literally prayed, “Please do not have these killers be of Arab descent, be Muslim extremists.” When John Muhammad’s name surfaced, some were quick to again condemn Arabs and Islam. This alleged killer probably knows less about Islam than my dog Sadie, but his actions bring prejudice down on the heads of many innocents because of the propensity out there to stereotype.
Listen to these words from a friend of mine, a dedicated Catholic Seminarian: “What those terrorists did on September 11th a year ago had nothing to do with serving God. They may have called themselves Muslims but they have nothing in common with my Muslim friends, just as I have nothing in common with neo-Nazis who call themselves Christians and try to use the Bible to justify their violence and racism.”
My appeal is for tolerance and understanding, for avoiding polarizing rhetoric, for working as best we can for your goals of “peace and justice.”
I came here to say thanks for all you do for our community; to say I empathize with each and every one of you who may have felt the sting of prejudice right here in this land of the free and the brave.
I deplore the mindless attacks that hurt the feelings of Arabs, be they Christian or Muslim.
I came to assure you that our President does not want war, does not want a conflict where innocent people lose their lives. What he wants is to make Iraq’s brutal dictator give up his ruthless quest for weapons of mass destruction; make him honor the many agreements already made and broken; make him abide by the will of the civilized world.
Speaking of innocents—the President wants to compel Saddam Hussein to account for Kuwaiti citizens rotting in Iraqi jails, something he agreed to in the tent at Safwan when Desert Storm ended in his humiliating defeat.
I can assure you that this President, like his Dad before him, certainly abhors war and the horrors it can bring to innocents.
As President I worried about the loss of innocent life; but I knew in my heart of hearts we could not let a tyrant with the 4th largest army in the world take over his neighbor by force. Yet I worried about the loss of life in Kuwait and in Iraq too.
But innocent lives are at stake in Iraq today as Saddam brutalizes his own people, and as he continues to violate international law and sacred agreements. I will never forget the picture of that Iraqi mother holding her dead baby in her arms, both of them having been gassed to death by Saddam’s forces.
Given our President’s own strong faith, I can assure you that he values the life of every innocent Iraqi man, woman or child (and that goes for the innocent ones in what he hopes will someday be the State of Palestine), just as he valued the life of everyone killed in the Twin Towers on September 11.
So put it this way: No one wants war against Iraq, but no one wants Iraq to get more terrifying weapons of mass destruction.
We must do all we can to work for peace and then, if we have to fight, to protect the lives of the innocents in Iraq.
And, here at home, we must continue to fight against stereotyping as we fight and win the war against terror. No freedom-loving, patriotic American should ever be subjected to prejudice because of his looks or his religious preference.
We must be tolerant, and as the rallying cry of this organization says, we must stand for “Peace and Justice.”
Thank you very much.
I wrote this urgent letter to Dan Amos, chairman of the board and CEO of AFLAC.
November 12, 2002
Dear Dan,
This will be the most unusual request you have ever received from any President of the United States of America.
The truth is, I need two more of those tiny, furry AFLAC ducks. Why, might you ask? Well, the answer is Sadie, our beloved dog who sleeps in our bed and dominates our lives, loves the AFLAC duck you gave me at that marvelous AFLAC meeting in Las Vegas. It’s quiet around our house now because the AFLAC duck is missing. Frankly, I kind of like the quiet, but Barbara and Sadie both miss hearing that duck go, “AFLAC, AFLAC!”
So, if you have a couple of those ducks lying around, would you mind sending them to me. I would be willing to pay for the ducks and even pay shipping and handling. I don’t want that great company of yours to go in the red because of this.
Most sincerely,
George Bush
E-mail to my granddaughters Jenna, Barbara, and Lauren.
March 9, 2003
Subject: Nervous grandfather
It is Sunday morning. I am at my duty station in the office. I am worrying about three of my older granddaughters. Spring break causes the worry. I wonder—are all three off somewhere trying to get on the Wild College Women TV show? Are they having a good time? Are they sticking near their three campuses so they can do what, well, what I used to do during spring break back in the good old days, circa 1946-47-48. Namely, stick near the Library. I found it was almost free of noise and people during spring break. Maybe you three have discovered the same thing. I am here all week in Houston in case you need adult leadership. In spite of these worries, maybe because of these worries, I love all three of you “guys” (who says the Gampster can’t be “with it”?)
Devotedly,
Gampy
E-mail I sent to the President when Saddam Hussein fell from power.
April 9, 2003
Subject: very personal for POTUS
Dear George,
This is a great day for our country, indeed for the world. I talked to Saud al Nasser, Kuwait’s former Ambassador, a great friend. He called to congratulate you and the USA. I said “What about the Arab Streets?” He says, “That is all gone, all over. USA is again widely respected.” I thanked him. I hope he is right.
But this letter is about your leadership and the way you have conducted yourself as you face an accumulation of problems that no American President in the last 150 years has faced.
You have borne the burden with no complaining, no posturing. You have led with conviction and determination; and now the whole world sees that more clearly.
The other day I started to tell a group of very close friends, assembled to help with my 80th birthday charity celebration, how I felt about you and your service to our country.
The tide of the battle had not completely changed, but things were going our way. I got almost through my remarks. But then this father’s love of his son overwhelmed him.
I shamefully choked up, the tears tumbling down my aging cheeks. I was embarrassed; but then I realized that I shouldn’t worry if people see this visible manifestation of a father’s concern, a father’s love. It was pride, yes, but it was also an overflowing of joy from all that you have given your mother and me over the years. . . .
Chemical Bar29 and I are at your side. I hope you can feel it. We will stay out of the way, but I am there beside you, my heart overflowing with happiness on this day of vindication.
No doubt tough times lie ahead, but, henceforth, here and abroad, there will never be any doubts about our Commander in Chief, about his leadership, about our boy George.
Devotedly,
Dad
This was my handwritten response to a request from Henry O. Dormann, chairman and editor in chief of Leaders magazine, to answer this question: “What is the greatest challenge you have had to overcome in your life?”
April 23, 2003
I cannot single out the one greatest challenge in my life. I have had a lot of challenges and my advice to young people might be as follows:
1. Don’t get down when your life takes a bad turn. Out of adversity comes challenge and often success.
2. Don’t blame others for your setbacks.
3. When things go well, always give credit to others.
4. Don’t talk all the time. Listen to your friends and mentors and learn from them.
5. Don’t brag about yourself. Let others point out your virtues, your strong points.
6. Give someone else a hand. When a friend is hurting, show that friend you care.
7. Nobody likes an o
verbearing big shot.
8. As you succeed, be kind to people. Thank those who help you along the way.
9. Don’t be afraid to shed a tear when your heart is broken because a friend is hurting.
10. Say your prayers!!
I sent this e-mail to my granddaughter Barbara, and the second one to both Barbara and Jenna.
June 27, 2003
Subject: A cat
I am in the QUEENS Bedroom. Your Mum and Dad are gone. There is a black cat on my bed rubbing against my arm pit. What should I do? Now the cat is on the table. Help!
Your devoted Gampy
It is now 5:14 AM. That cat, Willy, is on my bed rubbing against my hand and licking it too. She/he was outside my door when I walked out to go get my coffee. Ramsey30 was bringing the coffee. So I went back to bed, and the next thing I remember is that cat nuzzling me. My question is, “Does the cat really love me?” Or, oops I am now in the bathroom and the cat, after rubbing against my leg, is now sitting on the chair right near my legs. What’s a Gampster to do?
Love,
POTUS 41
E-mail to the grandkids.
October 12, 2003
Subject: Leaving and crying.
In exactly 69 minutes we drive out the gate of the Point we love so much. The trek back to Houston begins. We speak at West Virginia Monday, then fly back to Houston Monday evening.
Yesterday Bill Busch31 and I took a final run in Fidelity. It was heaven. Swells but no real chop on the sea. There were tons of mackerel breaking the water but no blues, no stripers chasing them. We did see some tuna, obviously in quest of a mackerel lunch. I left Bill off on his boat here at the Point then roared back to the river going full blast. I am sure It was over 60. I felt about 19 years old.
The only thing wrong with the last five months is that none of you were here enough. Oh I know some got to stay as long as usual, but there never can be enough of having all of you here. Next year, promise this old gampster that you will spend more time with us here by the sea.
I am a very happy Gampy. My legs don’t bend too well. As you know I have had to give up fly fishing off the rocks, but there is plenty left to do—plenty of wonderful things.
I think of all of you an awful lot. I just wonder how each of you is doing—in life, in college, in school.
If you need me, I am here for you, because I love you very much.
This comes from your
devoted,
Gampy.
PS—I never went in the ocean this year. The first time in my 78 years here (I missed 1944) that I haven’t gone in. Sad am I, but I got huge kicks of seeing you dive off the pier. I got a clear shot at that from Jean’s office window.
Sadie just came in. She is very nervous. She sees the bags. She knows Ariel, Paula and Alicia32 left a week ago. Now she prances around viewing the horrid suitcases wondering what’s next for her. She’ll be OK in Houston but she’ll miss Kport—of that I am sure.
E-mail I sent to J. T. Crawford, husband of one of Barbara’s past aides, Quincy Hicks, after his father died. J. T. is the golf pro at the New Orleans Country Club.
January 05, 2004
Subject: For: JT
Dear JT:
E mail is so impersonal, so distant in a way.
But I have just heard about your terrible loss. I’ll never forget when my own Dad died. I was then Ambassador to the UN back in 1972. The finality of the news hit me hard, hit all of us hard, for our Dad was our true leader and to all of us a true, loyal friend.
I expect you are hurting a lot right now. You will be for some time. But I think you will find that as time goes by you will still ache some. Most of that ache will give way to happy memories of your wonderful Dad. Times together, jokes told, his pride in you—all of these and so much more will be with you forever.
Oh, you’ll still miss him a lot, even when you get to be my age; and that, Dear JT, is way up in the stratosphere. I still think a lot about my Dad, about all he gave to me in terms of values and joy. I can hear him singing with his beloved quartet. I can feel the respect that his peers all had for him. I was and always will be guided by his commitment to serving others. I confidently expect you will have many of the same thoughts about your own Dad.
So take time to grieve, to shed some tears, to honor his memory knowing that happier times lie ahead, knowing that those tears will assuredly give way to smiles then laughter.
Give my Love to your special bride, “Q”.
With respect and sincere
condolences from your
friend,
George Bush (#41)
This is an e-mail I wrote to Hugh Sidey about my 80th birthday celebration—called “41@80”—for which we raised $56 million for MD Anderson Cancer Center, the George Bush Library and Museum, and the Points of Light Foundation. As part of the fun I got to parachute. I would parachute again on my 85th birthday. Still thinking about whether to do it on my 90th . . .
June 23, 2004
Dear Hugh,
My Steuben Eagle, the lovely one you and Anne sent me, is staring at me as I type.
I find it hard to concentrate on the key board because Maine is at its sparkling best today—clear, relatively cool, sunny, flat seas, boats on the moorings in the bay.
But now I stop staring out the window and come back to my eagle and to the 41@80 festivities. I cannot imagine that there could be a better birthday for an old guy—ever. Jean Becker took charge early on and aided by a first class team of volunteers adopted a broad view plan and then executed it.
I was disappointed that they would not let me solo jump. At first I thought it was a Golden Knight33 conspiracy to keep an old guy out of harm’s way. After spending 6 hours in ground training I felt I was ready, but the elements were not. The Knights convinced me that the winds were very tricky. They changed direction at various altitudes, velocity, too. I yielded and after my second tandem jump I became convinced the Knights made the right call.
We are all surprised at how this jump has resonated. We are hearing from people all over the world. No negatives at least until now, and plenty of people whom I know and don’t know do understand that old guys should get out and “go for it”.
I am way behind on our correspondence and there has been a lot to correspond about; but for some reason 41@80 took a lot of my time.
My summer speaking schedule is very light—almost nonexistent, which is the way we have planned it.
And so I breathe in the sea air, sleep well at night, run fast over the waves and say “I am one lucky guy.”
More, much more, later on.
All best,
GB
I sent this e-mail to the staff with us in Kennebunkport: Chief of Staff Jean Becker; Tom Frechette, who was my aide; Michele Whalen, Barbara’s aide; our summer intern, Amanda Biedrzycki;, and Laura Pears, our logistics coordinator. I wrote this right before our grandson George P. married his beautiful bride, Amanda, in Kennebunkport, and right before we left to go to Athens, Greece, for the Opening Ceremonies of the 2004 Olympics and then on to a family cruise in the Greek isles. Yes, it was a very busy time!
August 5, 2004
Subject: Chief of Staff
I address this to our “Chief” asking that she enlist the summer lads or someone to solve this problem:
All of you, each in your own way, have done a good job on paper towels, Kleenex, soap, and toilet paper. Indeed, we have had very few glitches.
But now there is a new danger. The toilet seat upstairs here appears to be misaligned. There is grave danger that if it tilts further someone can fall off and get hurt. What if Laura re-broke her arm just before the cruise. What if Tommy or I had the embarrassment of having to call for help whilst writhing on the floor. How could we explain to Brian34 if M got seriously hurt in this unseemly, undignified, unladylike manner?
Jean—this may seem a tiny matter on this big BBQ day, just as wedding plans come to fruition, just as final decisions on the cruise must be made, secur
ity problems wrestled with; but please attend to this matter. Delegate! Lead us!
Do not ask Ariel—the man cooked all night long. Do not ask Teresa35 or Alicia or even Paula—they have other duties.
Perhaps this crisis can safely wait until after we all leave, but suppose we have all gone cruising and special, dear Amanda, while soloing in there, falls off—unattended.
Please Jean. Please do this.
P.S. Do not call a plumber. After Robin’s Nest pond work, increasing demands for champagne, more ordering-out-for pizzas, more “can I borrow the car or the truck?”, more “just have me met in Boston by People Movers,” I am feeling broke so we must fix this ourselves.
The more I think about it: “Tommy just bring me a monkey wrench!”
Sincerely,
George Bush,
41st President of the United
States of America
November 4, 2004
Dear Hugh,
I am all messed up. I started a letter to you. It was to have given you a day by day countdown until this day, election day 2004. But my good intentions gave way to numerous really meaningless phone calls from friends “How’s it look? What do the polls say? How was West Palm in Florida or Green Bay? Or how about Schilling36 being for the President? Or how is your aching gut?”
So the document I started is gone. It isn’t even in “My Documents” where I know I stored it.
But what’s to matter? Yesterday in the morning Jean Becker, who is so closely plugged in with the campaign literally from top to bottom, came into my office with the latest overnights. They were not good. There had been slippage in the battleground states. Though 43 was still leading by a thin smidgeon in many of the states, some of the important ones had slipped into a tie or into a small negative. This, of course, caused my aching duodenum to throb, to pulsate, to hurt. Peristaltic action did not start up, but I expected it at any minute to strike with a vengeance.
Sunday was a nice quiet day for us except I could not help but watch the darned TV. The talking heads seemed even louder, even more obnoxious. The Kerry campaign had given up any “respect for the office” long ago and his minions had apparently been unleashed to go the junk yard dog route. “Liar” was often used to describe the President. Hatred filled the airwaves and oozed into the print media, too.37