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

by George H. W. Bush

  Arrangements were made for the American delegation, 5 in all, to leave the Vatican first. We had a huge motorcade tethered outside; so just as the ceremony was about to end, a priest from the Vatican came and got Condi,51 42, and me. We had been seated about 8 rows behind the President and Laura. But the priest got us to the very front, next to two kings, both men I like, King Juan Carlos of Spain and King Abdullah of Jordan. So I chatted a little with both of them, feeling uncomfortable all the while because we were blocking the view of other ranking visitors.

  Clinton for his part so enjoyed seeing a lot of his old friends so while some chanting was still going on he was a couple of rows back greeting people for the various delegations. Amazing.

  We did walk out first. I was a tad self conscious, explaining to the two monarchs and others that the Vatican wanted us out first so we wouldn’t hold up traffic. I am not sure the kings and the Presidents appreciated that move, but I saw no faces of angst nor heard no whining.

  At the reception for the Cardinals at Ambassador Sembler’s, several of the American Cardinals had prepared me for what we were to see. They couldn’t begin to explain the whole thing but at least I felt oriented; and I will add, inawe.

  The service was 10 minutes short of three hours. Much of that time was devoted to serving communion. The pageantry was amazing. The Cardinals, of course, all decked out in their red vestments . . .

  Everything was as you’d expect in Latin, but programs which were easy to follow were given to everyone. In addition I was sitting right in front of a very knowledgeable European who was representing his country at the funeral. He knew everything and would lean over and whisper to me what page we were on and what came next. He was a great help. I failed to get his name so I could thank him.

  So much will be written about the service, all of it telling about it better than I could, but what moved me the most:

  The size of the crowd down below where we VIPs sat was mind-boggling. I was told it was the largest crowd by far the Vatican has ever seen. I believe it was larger than the crowd that assembled in Prague to celebrate the anniversary of the Velvet Revolution. That crowd was estimated to be one million plus. This one I am satisfied was even bigger.

  The affection for the Pope symbolized by the various banners and flags in the large square brought home to me so clearly the love that people felt for the Pope.

  I asked my new friend behind us to point out what would happen when the new Pope is named. He told me of the walk from the Sistine Chapel to the balcony above our heads. He showed me the balcony from which the new Pope will give his first speech.

  I was mightily impressed by the Pope’s casket. It was plain wood, no plush handles or rails to hold. It was plain brown wood, just like I hope to have for my own casket.

  The homily by senior Cardinal Ratzinger,52 Dean of the College of Cardinals, was outstanding. The theme was “follow me”. A tad long, but it spoke so beautifully of the Pope’s whole life, about his love of the mother of God.

  So here I am having de-briefed sketchily and badly; but here I am feeling deeply about what I was privileged to witness—the funeral of Pope John Paul II.

  E-mail I sent to my dear friend since Yale, Lud Ashley, about a trip to Germany where I saw two old friends.

  June 24, 2005

  The meeting with Gorby and Kohl was at Point Alpha near Erfurt—about a two or three hour drive west of Leipzig. Point Alpha was another place along the FRG-GDR border where the allied forces felt that GDR and Russians might make a break through and head to Frankfurt.

  The three of us did not speak before the crowd of 10,000. We did answer questions from the leading German interviewer—a Tim Russert type interview; but she, the interviewer was lovely. Russert is not.

  The event commemorated 15 years since Germany was unified. Two Minister-Presidents spoke. There were six laudations. Three eagles were released landing on the handlers’ arms. We had donned claw proof leather gloves. Each eagle was then transferred to one of us. My eagle was the biggest—I was thinking “Oh great symbol of American might and pride, do not claw me, do not shit upon me”. It worked out OK.

  Gorbachev looked very well and was good fun to be with. I have a close, very pleasant relationship with him. Helmut, looking bigger than ever, could not have been more pleasant. He has put on some tonnage since he was here in Maine with us just last summer.

  There are tons of events of this nature. Gorbachev always wants to get us “used-to-bes” together for one good cause or another. He keeps holding yellow pad conferences trying to save the world on the environment, human rights, health care, Africa. You name the subject—then a conference will be convened, if not by Gorbachev, then by some other former leader. Get a cause and the Gorbachev Foundation will assemble a bunch of the “once-was” crowd. Write a paper that will then gather moss and remain unread by the current world leaders who Gorby and others hoped to enlighten.

  I prefer Maine or A&M—besides, if I entered in to these type of things some report would inevitably show differences between the old guys and the current administration; and I do not need to cause the President grief by my signing on to some report that is not necessarily in accord with his policies.

  Enough—all the best,

  GB

  E-mail I sent to Brent Scowcroft, my great friend and former national security advisor, who wrote to me about some mysterious scratches he spotted on my boat.

  July 05, 2005

  Subject: RE: Scratches

  Dear Curious,

  Those scratches are a puzzle to Fidelity’s Captain. The only thing he can think of is this. Over in Cape Porpoise Harbor, a 20 knot tide running, the Captain momentarily looked up to see if the young kids he had generously taken aboard Fidelity were safe. At that very moment there was an ear shattering, screeching sound regrettably heard way down at Nunan’s.53 The port side of Fidelity, which was being pushed sideways by unusually strong tides, had encountered a propeller of a 3 HP outboard motor fastened to the stern of a half sunk dory. Putting the lives of the passengers first, the Captain did the right thing; in putting lives first, his own property second. But, yes, minor scratches did occur. With a lesser seaman at the wheel the damage could have been horrendous. The ugly white marks will soon be erased and over-painted by the generous Captain of Fine Print.

  The Captain of Fidelity confidently expects the Harbor Master at Cape Porpoise to recommend him for the coveted “Peeble’s Award”, named for Isaac Peebles, the great grandfather of the man now in charge of the prestigious Peebles Fish market.54 It seems that Isaac was faced with a similar dilemma way back around 1901 when he saved the lives of two drowning kids who were thrown into a 6 foot gale-driven sea off Cape Porpoise lighthouse even though that put his lobster boat, “Peebles of the World”, at risk. The coveted award was created in 1916 and has only been given seven times since then. It is hoped this award will be given because it is rare that lives are saved when the person doing the saving put his own property at risk. “Sacrifice” is the key word here. In this instance the sacrifice was a minor paint job but the damage could have been much worse. The bottom line is lives were saved, real danger averted, and Fidelity’s Captain still has his papers and his Coast Guard medal of distinction. Stay tuned on July 12th when the committee meets to decide about the Peebles Award for Courage.

  All the best from another

  shimmering Kport day.

  GB 41

  This is one of the last letters I wrote my dear friend Hugh Sidey. He died unexpectedly in November.

  September 2, 2005

  Dear Hugh,

  I write this on a down day—down in my normally high spirits.

  Yesterday, with President Clinton, I was in Washington where, at the White House, the president asked us to suit up again for money raising. This time our goal is to raise private sector monies for helping the victims of Katrina.

  We have decided to resurrect the Tsunami Bush-Clinton Fund but this time under the name Bush-Clinton
Katrina Fund. We will be asking for donations large and small. I am convinced we will raise a lot of money.

  We got the Governors of Louisiana, Alabama, and Mississippi to create relief funds to which the Bush-Clinton monies will be disbursed. All three Governors promptly responded and the funds have been established.

  Just for this letter of record the names are:

  Alabama Governor’s Emergency Relief Fund

  Louisiana Recovery Authority

  Mississippi Hurricane Relief Fund

  Wal-Mart has already stepped up to the plate with a $15 million donation.

  The response should be good, but as stated above I am down.

  I am down watching the suffering of so many people. It is terrible to see people who can’t even locate family members, also the sick and even the dying. I cannot begin to imagine the horrors of the Superdome—the smell and the terror are horrible.

  I am really down about the lawlessness that has cropped up in Katrina’s wake. Gangs are running rampant. Looting, shooting, even rapes terrify those who remain in downtown New Orleans. It is sick.

  For a while people seemed to condone this mayhem. “What would you do if your kid did not have water? Isn’t it ok then to help the kids by taking water from a store?” This is the question often asked by the press. I was asked this at a little press avail that I did with Clinton at the White House.

  There is a kind of hands off from criticizing the law breakers. After all they are minorities, they are poor, and they have no chance. The Black Caucus played up that theme in skewering the President.

  But I am really down about the way the President has been attacked. Over and over again the networks attack him. First for being late in moving. Then for over flying Louisiana on the way back to Washington. Then on the snail like pace of relief.

  One story in yesterday’s NY Times suggested that the President didn’t care because Katrina’s main victims were African American.

  Last night, after our press conference with the President in the Oval Office, I was about to fly back to Maine with President Clinton. We had finished several PSAs and interviews with 5 networks. As I started towards the door one of the President’s aides asked me if I could stay for an early dinner with the President. Of course I did that and at about 6:45 Jean Becker, Marvin Bush and I joined the President in the family dining room.

  My heart went out to him. Here is a guy who cares deeply. Who wants every possible resource of the Federal government brought to bear to help people, yet he is being roundly accused of not giving a damn.

  I made the mistake of hearing a Black Caucus press conference this morning. Speaker after speaker attacked the President.

  Later I was here in my little office flicking from one channel to another. NBC continued to report on the disaster and on how the Federal Government had not properly responded.

  Houston has responded by putting a lot of people into the Astrodome. Initial reports were very positive, but Jean has just come in to tell me that crime has broken out in the Astrodome. The people do have food. They do have water. They do have a clean place to sleep, yet the law breakers are apparently starting up their vicious ways. I hope this is not true, but there have been frightening incidents today.

  I had wanted to join Clinton on Monday in a Labor Day church service where the victims could come and worship; but, given the terror in the dome, the USSS do not want us to go there—sad, very sad.55

  On the TV coverage only Fox has been positive. “Help is on the way.” “You should see the length of the caravan of trucks, buses, boats on trailers, all coming across the bridge headed for downtown New Orleans.” That report was up beat and lifted my spirits, but there are few like that.

  These attacks by politicians and news media remind me of those I weathered back in 1992 when Hurricane Andrew hit south Florida. We could do nothing right. Every person who lost a roof or a house aimed their fire at me personally.

  Now my own son is under this kind of blistering, mean-spirited attack. People assign to him the worst possible motives. They do not recognize how complex the recovery is. They do not want to say that it was impossible to foresee the extent or even the type of the damage. And also they seem to feel that these gun toting, knife wielding thugs should get a pass.

  The critics do not know what is in 43’s heart, how deeply he feels about the hurt, the anguish, the losses affecting so many people, most of them poor. . . .

  I am proud to be working on the private sector part; and I am very proud of the President for all he is doing to make the Federal part a success.

  Warm Regards,

  George

  PS—61 years ago to this very day I was shot down by the Japanese over Chi Chi Jima. Now I see some of his most nasty critics trying to shoot down my beloved son—shoot him down by mean spirited attacks. I was a scared kid back then. Now I am just an angry old man hurting for my son.

  In October 2005 a devastating earthquake struck the Kashmir region of Pakistan, killing more than 75,000 people. United Nations secretary-general Kofi Annan asked if I would serve as a special UN envoy for Pakistan earthquake relief. It was a frustrating assignment as my main job was to convince other countries to follow up on their pledges to Pakistan. Let’s just say international bill collecting is not easy. This is a note I wrote the secretary-general shortly before I left for the region. Unfortunately, severe weather prevented us from going into the mountainous region hardest hit by the earthquake but we did visit a huge refugee camp outside the capital of Islamabad.

  January 2, 2006

  Dear Kofi,

  First of all, Happy New Year to you and your family. I hope 2006 is a great one for you and for the United Nations.

  I am looking forward to being your special envoy for Pakistan. A few days ago, I called President Musharraf and had a nice conversation. He has approved my coming to see him on January 16 or 17; so on January 14, I will leave Texas and head for the devastated area in Kashmir and for Islamabad to see the President and the Prime Minister. I have arranged for a private plane, so there will be no expense to the United Nations on my transportation to and from the area.

  I will be traveling with a small staff—namely, Kevin Kennedy,56 who has been assigned to help me out on my overall mission; Jean Becker, my Chief of Staff; and Tom Frechette, who will be my point of contact for anyone at the UN that wants to keep up with what we are trying to do.

  After visiting President Musharraf and Prime Minister Aziz, and after working further with your staff, I will try to set priorities for getting people to pay the pledges they have already made.

  I am very pleased you asked me to undertake this assignment and I will try to accomplish it with the least possible expense to the United Nations and, hopefully, with some effectiveness.

  Respectfully yours,

  George Bush

  E-mail to Susan Ellis, wife of our nephew John Ellis, upon the passing of her mother.

  June 29, 2006

  Subject: Sadness

  Nan Ellis, sister and mother in law, just left my little office here in Kport. She told me that your Mom had just passed away.

  I remember when my Mom died. I was still President. With Doro I went up to Greenwich from Washington to see her. She was in bed in her house. She was having great trouble breathing. Mum was a real fighter and a great competitor. She was our leader, our beacon of kindness, the Captain of our team.

  She was fighting hard for every breath. I remember kneeling by her bed asking God to take her on to heaven. She finally drifted off into a troubled sleep so we left and flew back to Washington. It was only a few hours later that I got the call saying that she had passed away, that she was now at rest.

  Susan, I have trouble remembering a lot of things now—82 does that to a guy you know. But I remember everything about that visit. I was close to my Mom, very close.

  The day she died I wondered if I would ever get over the grief and sadness in my heart. But I did. Time heals so much. Though I remember her strug
gle in those final hours to stay alive, those sad thoughts have all but given way to happy wonderful memories of my wonderful mother.

  I hope the same happens to you. I know it will. Time heals the hurt. Soon I hope you, too, will have only happy memories of love and wonder.

  Yes, I am an old guy, but my Mom is still with me. I love you and I want you to have that same joy.

  Love,

  GB

  E-mail to the children and grandchildren, with a CC to my sister, Nancy Ellis, and nephew Hap Ellis.

  September 16, 2006

  Subject: The Death of Tranquility

  Ever since we got the new Maine Coaster type boat [Tranquility], the stars have been crossed. First the old engine froze up (no oil) and was a total loss. Then came the horror that ended the boat’s life. Last night the sea was really big. Tranquility dragged her anchor right into the rock in front of Ariel’s house. Ariel heard a loud crash and then a grinding as the Fiberglass and the engine were being done in by the seas—all about 3:30 or 4 this morning. He alerted the USSS who made a heroic run in very, very high seas. They pulled the boat off the rocks and towed it to the marina. Wazoo57 picked it up and brought it on a trailer to the Point. I looked at it. Wazoo declared it “dead”, a “total loss”.

  I hate to report this tragedy but this new, star-crossed lovely boat had never had time to work its way into our hearts. Tranquility we hardly knew ye.

  The good news is Sadie is still alive and so am I. Heck with the rubber sided boat.

  Love to all, signed the-one-

  the-only,

  Gampster.

  Handwritten note to President Bill Clinton after he and I received the Liberty Medal at an event at the National Constitution Center for our work after Katrina.

  October 10, 2006

  Dear Bill,

  We are back in Houston now after our five months in Maine. I write regarding the Constitution Center event. Though I had been cool on going, the event was a good one; and the medal, unlike so many “coveted” honors was truly meaningful. As you pointed out to me, we were in good company given that list of previous winners.