The Daily Signal - #355: George W. Bush Remembers His Dad

Episode Date: December 5, 2018

Who better to celebrate the legacy of our 41st president than his son? Today's episode features the recording of George W. Bush's memorable, touching, and even funny words commemorating George H.W. Bush's life. The Daily Signal podcast is available on Ricochet, iTunes, SoundCloud, Google Play, or Stitcher. All of our podcasts can be found at DailySignal.com/podcasts. If you like what you hear, please leave a review. You can also leave us a message at 202-608-6205 or write us at [e-mail]. Enjoy the show! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This is the Daily Signal podcast for Thursday, December 6th. I'm Daniel Davis. It was a somber day at Washington National Cathedral on Wednesday, where America officially bid farewell to 41. President George H.W. Bush was America's longest-lived president with a career in public service stretching back to World War II. His son, President George W. Bush, gave a moving eulogy to his beloved dad, and today we'll devote our entire episode to that speech. Here's Bush, the younger. Distinguished guests, including our presidents and first ladies, government officials, foreign dignitaries, and friends. Jeb, Neil, Marvin Darrow, and I, and our families, thank you all for being here. I once heard it said of man that the idea is to die young as late as possible.

85, a favorite pastime of George H.W. Bush was firing up his boat the fidelity and opening up the 300 horsepower engines to fly, joyfully fly, across the Atlantic with the Secret Service boats

straining to keep up. At age 90, George H.W. Bush parachuted out of an aircraft and landed on the grounds of St. Anne's by the sea and Kenny in the church where his mom was married and where he worshiped often. Mother liked to say he chose a location just in case the shoot didn't open.

In his 90s, he took great delight when his closest pal, James A. Baker smuggled a bottle of gray goose vodka into his hospital room. It paired well with the steak Baker had delivered from Mortons. To his very last days, Dad's life was instructive. As he aged, he taught us how to grow with dignity, humor, and kindness. And when the good Lord finally called, how to meet him with courage and with the joy of the promise of what lies ahead. One reason Dad knew how to die young is that he almost did it twice. When he was a teenager, a staff infection, nearly took his life. A few years later, he was alone in the Pacific on a life raft, praying that his rescuers would find him before the enemy did.

God answered those prayers. It turned out he had other plans for George H.W. Bush. For Dad's part, I think those brushes with death made him cherish the gift of life, and he vowed to live every day to the fullest. Dad was always busy, a man in constant motion, but never too busy to share his love of life with those around him. He taught us to love the outdoors. He loved watching dogs flush a covey. He loved landing the elusive striper. And once confined to a wheelchair, he seemed happy sitting in his favorite perch on the back porch.

on the back porch at Walker's Point, contemplating the majesty of the Atlantic. The horizons he saw were bright and hopeful. He was a genuinely optimistic man, and that optimism guided his children and made each of us believe that anything was possible. He continually broadened his horizons with daring decisions. He was a patriot. After high school, he put college on hold and became a Navy fighter pilot as World War II broke out. Like many of his generation, he never talked about his service until his time as a public figure forced his hand.

We learned of the attack on Chi Chi Jima, the mission completed, the shootdown. We learned of the death of his crewmates whom he thought about throughout his entire life. and we learned of the rescue. And then another audacious decision. He moved his young family from the comforts of the East Coast to Odessa, Texas. He and mom adjusted to their arid surroundings quickly. He was a tolerant man. After all, he was kind and neighborly to the women with whom he, mom and I shared a bathroom in our small duplex.

even after you learn their profession, ladies of the night, he would relate to people from all walks of life. He was an empathetic man. He valued character over pedigree, and he was no cynic. He looked for the good in East person, and he usually found it. Dad taught us that public service is noble and necessary, that one can serve with integrity and hold true to the important. values like faith and family.

He strongly believed that it was important to give back to the community and country in which one lived. He recognized that serving others enriched the giver's soul. To us, his was the brightest of a thousand points of light. In victory, he shared credit. When he lost his shoulder the blame, he accepted that failure is a part of living. is a part of living a full life, but taught us never to be defined by failure. He showed us how setbacks can strengthen. None of his disappointments could compare with one of life's greatest tragedies, the loss of a young child. Jeb and I were too young to remember the pain and agony

he and mom felt when our three-year-old sister died. We only learned later that dad, a man of quiet faith prayed for her daily. He was sustained by the love of the Almighty and the real and enduring love of her mom. Dad always believed that one day he would hug his precious Robin again. He loved to laugh, especially at himself. He could tease and needle but never out of malice. He placed great value on a good joke. That's why he chose Simpson to speak. He had a circle of friends with whom he shared or received the latest jokes. His grading system for the quality of the joke was classic George Bush.

The rare sevens and eights were considered huge winners. Most of them off color. George Bush knew how to be a true and loyal friend. He nurtured and honored his many friendships with a generous and giving soul. There exists thousands of handwritten notes encouraging or sympathizing or thanking his friends and acquaintances. He had an enormous capacity to give of himself. Many a person would tell you that dad became a mentor and a father figure in their life. He listened and he consoled.

He was their friend. I think of Don Rhodes, Taylor Blanton, Jim Nance, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and perhaps the unlikliest of all, the man who defeated him, Bill Clinton. My siblings and I refer to the guys in this group as brothers from other mothers. He taught us that a day was not meant to be wasted. He played golf at a legendary pace. I always wonder why he insisted on speed golf. He was a good golfer.

Well, here's my conclusion. He played fast so that he could move on to the next event to enjoy the rest of the day. to expand his enormous energy, to live at all. He was born with just two settings, full throttle, then sleep, what it means to be a wonderful father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. He was firm in his principles and supportive as we began to seek our own ways. He encouraged and comforted, but never steered.

We tested his patience. I know I did with the great gift of unconditional love. Last Friday, when I was told he had minutes to live, the guy answered the phone, said he, I think he can hear you, but he hadn't said anything for most of the day. I said, Dad, I love you, and you've been a wonderful father. And the last words he would ever say on earth were, I love you too.

To us, he was close to perfect, but not totally perfect. His short game was lousy. He wasn't exactly freddish there on the dance floor. And couldn't stomach vegetables, especially broccoli, passed these genetic defects along to us. The day of his 73 years of marriage, dad taught us all what it means to be a great husband. He married his sweetheart.

He adored her. He laughed and cried with her. He was dedicated to her. In his old age, Dad enjoyed watching police show reruns. He was on mom's hand. After mom died, Dad was strong, but all he really wanted to do was hold mom's hand again. Of course, Dad taught me another special lesson. He showed me what it means to be a president who serves with integrity, leads with courage,

and acts with love in his heart for the citizens of our country. When the history books are written, they will say that George H.W. Bush was a great president of the United States, a diplomat of unmatched skill, a commander-in-chief of formidable accomplishment, and a gentleman who executed the duties of his office with dignity and honor. In his inaugural address, the 41st President of the United States said this. We cannot hope only to leave our children a bigger car, a bigger bank account. We must hope to give them a sense of what it means to be a loyal friend, a loving parent, a citizen who leaves his home, his neighborhood, and town better than he found it. What do we want the men and women who work with us to say when we are no longer there? That we were more driven to succeed than anyone around us,

or that we stopped to ask if a sick child had gotten back. better and stayed a moment there to trade a word of friendship. Well, Dad, we're going to remember you for exactly that and much more. And we're going to miss you. Your decency, sincerity, and kind soul will stay with us forever. So through our tears, let us know the blessings of knowing and loving you, a great and noble man, the best father, a son, or daughter could have, and in our grief, by a smile knowing that dad is hugging Robin

and holding mom's hand again. And that'll do it for today's episode. Thanks for listening to The Daily Signal podcast brought to you from the Robert H. Bruce Radio Studio at the Heritage Foundation. Please be sure to subscribe on iTunes, Google Play, or SoundCloud, and please leave us a review or a rating on iTunes to give us any feedback.

We'll see you again tomorrow. You've been listening to the Daily Signal podcast, executive produced by Kate Trinko and Daniel Davis, Sound design by Michael Gooden, Lauren Evans, and Thalia Rampersad. For more information, visit DailySignal.com.