Ronald Reagan’s Words … Echo

As a very young person, ages 21, 22, and 23, life swept me along, always a matter of wonder where next my feet walked – and for a time, they walked and I worked in the White House of Ronald Reagan. His words, optimism, and humor, echo.

Serious in temperament, he could also be suddenly humorous, as if his Irish elfin or wild and whimsical side had to get out, had to be shared, gift of a lift.

Reagan was so much himself, so sure of who he was, where he had been, what he had seen, learned, felt and what it meant he owed the rest of us, that his bearing, his very being were fluid, in perfect sync, at ease in the world, troubled as it was.

Where does that level of confidence, inner peace, and outer optimism come from? Given its realness, how is it cultivated, and where do you go to harvest that attitude? I wondered that recently, thinking back, and so relooked his words.

Funny, remarkable, and heartening are some of his earliest musings, about baseball, America, the limitless possibilities for anyone, if they will just work hard, have faith in themselves, keep getting up when knocked down, and never give in.

Here was the son of an alcoholic father, a father more absent than present, always down on his luck, never able to really make it, on whom the young Reagan looked with empathy, love, and unbroken hope, even when all around him was broken, except his consistent, demur, deeply faithful, and forgiving mother.

In his high school yearbook, as if foreseeing what lay ahead or perhaps just wishing it so – his quote: “Life is one grand, sweet song, so start the music.”

As a high school and college lifeguard on a treacherous river, he is credited with saving 77 lives, just part of his job, which he did like everything else with heart.

Nearly 40 years later, having been a sportscaster, actor who played the good guy (except once), married, divorced, remarried, father of four (one adopted), former head of Hollywood’s screen actors’ guild, already fiercely anti-communist, he was asked to give a speech. He did, and called it “A Time for Choosing.”

The year was 1964, and with surety he said: “You and I have a rendezvous with destiny. We will preserve for our children this, the last best hope of man on earth, or we will sentence them to take the first step into a thousand years of darkness. If we fail, at least let our children and our children’s children say of us we justified our brief moment here. We did all that could be done.”

The words, in our present state of dismay, dissolution, and political disrepair, buffeted by China, Iran, and from within, echo. They have a certain timelessness.

Well, summoned to the task, we – We, The People – did rise. We resolved to win internally and externally, put inner and outer wars to rest, men on the moon, wind in our own sails, and after being twice a governor, Reagan in the White House.

Again, in 1985, he spoke to us, often and with conviction, but specifically in that year’s State of the Union, after decisively winning 49 of 50 states and reelection.

He reminded us what we know or knew, yet often forget. “Anything is possible in America if we have faith, the will, and the heart. History is asking us one again to be a force for good in the world. Let us begin in unity, with justice and love.”

More than words, this was Reagan’s life credo, how he thought, felt, and behaved. He was saying, without saying it, you can too, we all can, and sometimes we must.

Over the next four years, Reagan did all he could for freedom, opening the private sector, helping businesses come to life, expand and add tens of millions of jobs.

After cutting federal taxes by one-fourth, driving inflation and interest down, and rebuilding America’s national defense, he brought the Soviets to their knees.

Having dared to call their oppressive, unfree, expansionist, communist government evil, he helped decisively end its run, and freed 300 million under its yoke. He envisioned that outcome, worked for it, and lived to watch it happen.

In 1992, I sat with him for the last time. He was crisp, focused and cheerful, unhurried. I thanked him for many things, not least ending the Soviets’ run, offering young people like me – at that time – a vision and how to make it real.

He was modest, as usual, funny and still full of optimism. Even then, his words echoed. At the 1988 convention, he had spoken plainly, once again – and almost echoed the 1964 speech, although few likely made the connection. Still, he did.

“When our children turn the pages of our lives, I hope they’ll see that we had a vision to pass forward a nation as nearly perfect as we could, when there’s decency, tolerance, generosity, honesty, courage, common sense, fairness and piety.”

He continued, earnestly confessing to the nation he loved, his faith: “This is my vision, and I’m grateful to God for blessing me with a good life and a long one …”

In 1991, he added: “I know in my heart that man is good. That what is right will always eventually triumph. And there’s purpose and worth to each and every life.”

And before his last gift, handwritten in 1994, confession that his last battle would be with Alzheimer’s, he spoke with resolve in 1992: “America’s best days are yet to come. Our proudest moment are yet to be. Our most glorious achievements are just ahead.”

Reagan knew that life, from start to finish, can be hard – and perhaps for reasons that elude us, should be hard. Thus, do we earn our way to heaven.

But he also had a profound, unshakable faith in life, in each of us, and in America. We too need that. So, on this day and on many others, I am glad his words echo.

Robert Charles is a former Assistant Secretary of State under Colin Powell, former Reagan and Bush 41 White House staffer, attorney, and naval intelligence officer (USNR). He wrote “Narcotics and Terrorism” (2003), “Eagles and Evergreens” (2018), and is National Spokesman for AMAC.