POLITICAL RENEGADE PAT BUCHANAN RAISED HIS UMBRELLA AGAINST the gray, damp sky last week as he surveyed the line of guests filing into the White House for the Ronald Reagan Presidential Medal of Freedom ceremony. “The last roll call,” he said.
He was right. There were 250 members of the power establishment of 12 years and earlier, and they flocked and laughed together, even as workers nearby hammered together the Inaugural stands for the installation of Bill Clinton. An era ended with more than a tinge of sadness for its creators, yet cheer lingered from the exhilaration of such a journey.
George Bush put the Medal of Freedom around Reagan’s neck (“Millions thank God today that you were in the White House”). Reagan is the only President to receive the medal in his lifetime. He was plainly older, hair dominantly gray. But the message was the same: “In America every day is a new beginning, and every sunset is merely the latest milestone for a voyage that never ends.” And the humor that carried him through so much adversity was still handy: “This marks the 200th anniversary of the laying of the cornerstone of the White House. By the way, my back is still killing me.”
Former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger whispered in the ear of former Secretary of State George Shultz, Kissinger still looking as if he was plotting huge power moves around the world.
“The big question is whether ((columnist)) George Will was invited,” chuckled TV’s Larry King, a new arbiter of presidential politics. Will and Nancy Reagan were close friends. Will and Bush were political enemies. In fact, Will was invited but declined. His wife Mari attended, bearing a picture of their six-month-old son David.
Barber Milton Pitts, who had trimmed both Reagan and Bush, shook their hands vigorously while proclaiming to the world, “I could not help noticing two good haircuts up on that stage.” Pitts has not been summoned by the Clintonites.
Conservative guru Bill Buckley recalled that 21 years ago he was in the Great Hall in Beijing deploring Richard Nixon’s joyous cavorting with the Red Chinese leaders. Curtain coming down on a long ideological reign.
In a front-row seat, Secretary of Housing and Urban Development Jack Kemp < nodded to Reagan’s cadences, took notes as if he were preparing his 1996 plans to chase Clinton out of the Oval Office. Defense Secretary Dick Cheney, another incipient contender, hovered on an end seat with a satchel of papers. (They were, it turned out, plans for the Iraq strike.) So even in this rite of passage was the hope of renewal.
And then there was the Marine Band, “The President’s Own,” as it is called. When Reagan once again trod the red ceremonial carpet, Colonel John Bourgeois, the band director, struck up The Ronald Reagan March. Reagan caught it and with eyes bright, straightened and gave the colonel a salute for everything that had been. Reagan and Bush walked one last time side by side in the majesty of power they created and now were ending. Then they moved off into memory.
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