My Memories of George Herbert Walker Bush

With the recent death of our forty-first president, there have been many tributes and news accounts on the life and times of George Herbert Walker Bush. I would like to share some of my memories about a friendship spanning thirty years with this good and decent man.

It was during one of the last weeks in November 1976, when my personal relationship with George H.W. Bush began as I received a telephone call from him in the final days of the Ford administration and his directorship at the CIA.

Earlier in the month I had been elected to congress from Missouri’s Sixth Congressional District and had taken office immediately due to the vacancy created when my predecessor was killed in an airplane crash. Bush explained he was calling to see if I might still have an open position to fill on my congressional staff. He indicated he was trying to locate a job for a member of his staff before he left his office in January. I felt sorry I had to tell him I had already filled all the positions. I would learn over the years that concern for others was a GHW Bush trademark.

Receiving a call from the director of the CIA was a pretty heady thing for a 33 year old from Kansas City, even after becoming a member of congress. I remember after explaining I had no openings I then offered a rather gratuitous comment to the effect that many people were hoping he would stay in public life. It turned out he did and it was the beginning of a friendship.

Bush must have added my name to his Rolodex because two years later as he began exploring a run for president, he contacted me to see if he could help me in my re-election. Indeed he could. He was the headliner of my annual fundraising birthday party in May 1978. Seated next to each other, we able to chat during the dinner and got to know each other. We were both joggers and in answer to a question from him about how fast I ran my two miles, he indicated it was about the same pace his son George ran.

Bush did decide to run for president two years later and inquired if I would be able to support him publicly in what was shaping up to be a hot primary with California Governor Ronald Reagan. I told him that as a Republican in a heavily Democratic district I was reluctant to appear to voters to be overly partisan by being involved in a GOP primary. To his credit — and my relief — he said he understood.

During his eight years as vice president, Bush invited me to accompany him on most of his trips to Missouri. One in particular stands out. The date: May 29, 1985 — my 42nd birthday. My wife Marilyn had planned to surprise me with my favorite Kansas City barbecue from former Chiefs player Bobby Bell’s restaurant in Gladstone.

Marilyn had conspired with members of my district staff to bring several pounds of barbecue to the airport during the official event we attended in downtown Kansas City. The staff assured the Secret Service everything was on the up and up and they were able to have the brisket smuggled aboard Air Force II.

A few minutes after take off the familiar aroma of smoked meat began to fill the cabin. Air Force stewards passed by us on the way to Bush’s private compartment delivering what I thought was some of KC’s best. Marilyn grew suspicious when we were served a different entree that was definitely not barbecue. She explained that the barbecue was ordered for a birthday party for the local congressman to be held later that night with his family in Washington. The stewards were very apologetic for the mix-up but they were unable to retrieve much of it as the vice president and his staff were already enjoying it as we spoke.

The Associated Press heard about the story and ran statewide articles from a “human interest” standpoint. George Bush heard about this once he deplaned and wrote me the following handwritten note that referenced a “peace offering” that turned out to be golf shirts with the Vice Presidential seal.

George and Barbara Bush were a team as were Marilyn and I so many of our encounters were with the four of us. The Bushes invited us to the Vice President’s official residence in Washington where we were able to chat about things other than politics. We were invited to an intimate dinner at the interestingly named Alibi Club for retiring Secretary of Education Terrill Bell. On trips to Missouri, Barbara often accompanied her husband and after a few years I began to conclude that we reminded them of their own family since we were closer to their children’s generation than theirs.

As the end of the Reagan presidency approached, it was obvious that George Bush was going to run for president and this time I was fully on board to help. A small group of us in the House numbering less than ten GOP members formed what we called the core support group. At the time, Bush was being challenged in the primaries by Pat Buchanan, a former aide to Richard Nixon and then a far right television personality. We provided more than nominal support. We were committed to helping put Bush in the White House.

Several of us in the core group attended a meeting in New York City in March of 1987 of several hundred active Republican Party members from around the country to discuss the upcoming election. At the end of the all-day affair, a straw poll of attendees was scheduled to gauge the support for possible candidates that might be considering a run for president.

It became apparent to me during the discussion period prior to the straw poll that a covert move was afoot to embarrass the vice president by those who wanted to derail the Bush effort even before it officially began. When I saw what was happening, I quickly organized some of the members of congress in attendance, including many who were not in our core group, to speak up in support of the vice president. We were able to turn the tables on the dissenters producing a strong showing for Bush in the straw poll. Bush heard about what I had done and wrote me this handwritten note:

The core group met every Wednesday when the House was in session. We offered strategy and advice to Bush’s inner circle that included his son, George W. Bush, Lee Atwater his campaign manager, and on one occasion, directly to the vice president himself.

That particular meeting was held at the vice president’s residence. We discussed the campaign and problems it was encountering including a recent Newsweek cover story entitled “Fighting The Wimp Factor.” The thrust of the story was that Bush was too careful and indecisive in his political views and that his niceness indicated weakness. As a World War II fighter pilot shot down during a battle with the Japanese, as well as an outstanding athlete in college, I found the characterization of him being a wimp completely unfounded. But the accusation bothered Bush and those of us who supported him.

As we took turns going around the room offering our individual advice, I decided to speak up about what I considered something that might be contributing to this false image. I suggested he put down the note cards and instead of reading from them when making public comments talk more extemporaneously. He was a good speaker but the note cards were limiting his effectiveness. I left the meeting second-guessing myself for being so direct. I intended that my remarks be taken as constructive criticism but I sensed Bush was not interpreting them as constructive. I was not pleased with myself or with his apparent lack of understanding about what I was trying to say.

The air was soon cleared with a handwritten note from the vice president:

In the 1988 campaign for the presidency, unlike eight years previously, I was an enthusiastic supporter of George Bush for president. I was delighted when he told me he use used my Rural Development Initiative in Iowa that I had authored in the House. I campaigned for him in New Hampshire. More importantly, I hosted his son George for a weekend in my congressional district making the rounds before the contested Missouri primary election.

A few days after Bush’s inauguration, he invited our core group from the House to the White House for drinks and conversation. Our group though small believed we had made a difference. Receiving an invitation to join George and Barbara so soon after his swearing-in was a signal that they thought we had, indeed, been helpful. It turned out to be a night to remember!

The president was excited to show us around, not just in the public rooms open for tours and meetings but upstairs in the residence where the first family spends their most personal and private time. This was very special.

The Reagans, for example, had allowed only a few non family members upstairs, usually old pals from Hollywood. So Marilyn and I were excited to be seeing something that few people have ever seen. First stop was the Lincoln bedroom where the original framed Emancipation Proclamation hung on the wall.

The president encouraged us to sit on the Lincoln bed for a Polaroid picture he wanted to take. We did and he did. I had the presence of mind to ask him to sign it sixty seconds later when it developed. That picture ended up on the front page of the New York Times and Life Magazine. The White House photographer took a picture of the president taking our picture that we treasure.

As he led us down the hall explaining which rooms were used by important historical figures such as Winston Churchill we eventually came to the Presidential bedroom already adorned with shelves of family photos. He referred to the bag of pork rinds on his night stand reminding us that the media never believed he was really that “down home” to snack on this southwestern delicacy.

He pointed over to the room next to the bed. It was their private bathroom. He encouraged me to “go on in and take a look around.” I followed the orders of the commander in chief and went in and while looking around Barbara Bush suddenly appeared in the doorway. With a scolding tone she admonished “Now, really George…” As I sputtered something like “the president said for me to take a look” she in no uncertain terms ushered us out. This encounter is more evidence that what the Bush children say is true: Barbara was the family enforcer.

Marilyn and I visited the George Herbert Walker Bush Library in College Station, Texas in 2004. For us, it was a time capsule of memories of our sixteen years of my serving in the congress. The Bushes were not in residence the day we toured but a library official encouraged me to leave a note. What I left was more than a note, it was a thank you letter written on a provided yellow pad. I wanted him to know how important he and Barbara had been in our life in politics.

Several months later, I received the following letter from the former president:

It would turn out to be the last of the thoughtful notes and letters George Bush would send to me. Today, I treasure each and every one of them.