The radio stations in Yakima were respectful to Reagan, and there was genuine sorrow in his passing. But as I entered Snoqualmie Pass on I-90 and began to pick up the Seattle stations, the tone changed. There was joy in his death and ridicule for his record. The reaction of England’s young people to Thatcher’s death was very similar. I had to turn off the radio.
That summer I heard a wonderful story about Reagan from concert violinist Ida Levin at the Seattle Chamber Music Festival. Ida had appeared with pianist Rudolf Serkin in concert at the White House. Serkin was notorious for his stage fright before a concert. As an old actor, Reagan recognized the symptoms backstage and engaged Ida and Rudolf in conversation to calm him down. It worked. Ida was surprised to discover that Reagan knew her father, who was a California superior court judge. Reagan was tickled to find that the daughter of Judge Levin, a great jazz afficianado, was a classical violinist.
In 2007, I flew from Seattle to Los Angeles to attend the 70th birthday surprise party of my cousin and her husband. He had written for Bob Hope, “Laugh In”, Carol Burnett and others for decades.
A few days later, we went to the Reagan Library to see the Air Force One exhibit. The film about Reagan that we saw before going to the exhibit had some in the audience in tears. My cousin’s husband, the comedy writer, left the movie; he was an unrepentant Hollywood liberal.
I had lived in Simi Valley from 1993 to 1997 on the same hill as the Reagan Library, but just a few hundred feet lower by the Wood Ranch Golf Course. One thing I loved to do was drive up to the library, park and walk to the railing where a piece of the Berlin Wall stood. It was the perfect place to watch the sun set over Ventura County and disappear into the Pacific.
This time there was something new by that patch of ground: Reagan’s grave. I watched as some folks walked to the grave and turned back with tears in their eyes. I understood. I went over to the grave and gave the man my most profound thanks for his service.
Back at the house, I went into my cousin’s husband’s study and found a framed script on the wall with lines for Reagan and Bob Hope. It was from Hope’s 85th birthday special on NBC in 1988. It had lines scratched out and written over almost to the point of illegibility. I asked him what that was all about.
He had written the sketch for Hope and Reagan, and he had faxed the script to Reagan who was on Air Force One at the time and who was to record his lines from the plane. Hope’s lines were to be recorded separately and edited together before show time. He knew that Reagan would have a problem with one particular joke, so he was not surprised when Reagan called him at home from Air Force One. For the next half hour, he and the President of the United States went over that joke again and again until it finally worked as intended. It was case of two comedy professionals of different political views working together to put the icing on the cake.
That script had pride of place in his study. The story was accompanied by a certain grudging respect for Reagan: one old pro to another.
Thank You so much for those memories, Publius.
((((HUGS))))
You have some awesome stories of the great man...and you have known some folks! Wow!
Thanks for sharing this wonderful story, Publius....if only we had him back.
WOW, thanks for sharing that great story. ((HUGS))