At Reagan funeral, George Tenet, the lame duck CIA chief, sat unassumingly between the head of the Peace Corps and a cable TV co-host
The scene at the funeral of former President Reagan
BY JAMES WARREN
Chicago Tribune
WASHINGTON - (KRT) - George H.W. Bush greeted and hugged Mikhail Gorbachev as if they were two long-lost, aging, successful alums reminiscing at a college reunion.
"Barely got through this," the former president confided when congratulated for his tribute to Ronald Reagan, his collaborator in targeting the "evil empire" once led by the former Soviet president. Now, Bush, 79, and Gorbachev, 73, were outside the hushed solemnity of the Washington National Cathedral, trading tales and awaiting their respective black SUVs underneath a stone side exit.
As other leaders, diplomats, congressmen, senators, U.S. cabinet members and royalty like Prince Charles exited elsewhere after Friday's state funeral, an A-list of the world's political aristocracy was ushered out this one double-door.
Former Presidents Jimmy Carter, Gerald Ford and Bill Clinton. German Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder. Former Canadian Prime Minister Brian Mulroney, the close Reagan chum who also gave a tribute was there. Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi. British Prime Minister Tony Blair. President Hamid Karzai of Afghanistan.
On this gray stone portico set aside for the creme de la creme, a scene unfolded resembling a college reunion only to a point. These men and women were, after all, parties to, and players in, momentous world events; the political equivalent to graying Olympic athletes, but long ago, thus explaining the receding hairlines, hunched backs and halting strides.
First Ladies Barbara Bush and Rosalyn Carter chatted away. Jimmy Carter was animatedly discoursing with fellow Southern Democrat Clinton. And former Secretary of State James Baker III diplomatically interrupted the Bush-Gorbachev confab to embrace the proud Russian, clad in jet-black suit, a decidedly central figure of the late 20th Century.
Then there was Sen. John Kerry, D-Mass., and wife Theresa, whose prime collective goal is presumably to topple President George W. Bush. They, too, were at least temporary members of a heady elite, prompting the elder Bush, who turns 80 Saturday, to characteristically stick out his hand to Kerry and engage him in conversation.
And, when done, Bush grabbed the man who wants his son's job around the neck, gave him a playful pat and said, "We'll see ya, pal!" On this day at least, partisanship was being compartmentalized.
It was then back to his friend Gorbachev, flanked by an interpreter. The precisely-planned departures were going slightly awry. "We did have some kind of order," a security officer told Rosalyn Carter. Then, the elder Bush realized his SUV van was there and turned to Gorbachev: "C'mon, let's go!"
A few feet away the irrepressible Clinton was being, well, Clinton. It was as if he were the cathedral's self-appointed driveway host; not missing a chance at a handshake or a quick back-and-forth with another member of this august club of leaders.
Prince Bandar, the legendary Saudi powerbroker and ambassador to the U.S., spotted Clinton and Carter gabbing and immediately thrust out his hand. Wearing a white cotton ghutrah, or Saudi headdress, he was immediately bantering with two men whom he visited often during their White House tenures.
"We're Baptists," said an ebullient Clinton. "We'll try to convert you. It's never too late!"
Then, Clinton, Kerry and Carter were an ensemble, at least until Schroeder surfaced to say hi to Clinton, then Carter, then apparently crack a joke in English to Clinton.
"He's good, huh?!" said Clinton, theatrically gesticulating toward the German. Then, it was time for Schroeder to depart and, seemingly, also Clinton, who headed toward his van, only to do a 180-degree turn upon seeing the diminutive billionaire Berlusconi, the conservative firebrand with whom Clinton has precious little in common - except membership in the club of primo politicians.
The genteel, at times wry, tenor was in keeping with the several hours that had just passed and constituted a head-turning assemblage of a certain elite.
The sorts of people who need normally only arrive minutes before a gathering left little to chance on this day. The likes of Sen. Elizabeth Dole, R-N.C., House Majority Leader Tom DeLay, R-Tex., former Reagan aide Pat Buchanan and scores of foreign diplomats arrived as much as two hours ahead of time.
"This is the pinnacle," said Selwa (Lucky) Roosevelt, protocol chief in the Reagan years, seated near the front of the cathedral, next to a stone column and, like many, with a slightly obstructed view of the proceedings.
"There are White House weddings and dinners but this goes beyond all that. A state funeral is the greatest accolade one can get. It's just amazing."
A short distance away, two rivals and former vice presidents, Dan Quayle and Al Gore, were hot in conversation. Twenty feet away, getting into his seat, was Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld, whose resignation Gore has called for as a result of the war in Iraq.
George Tenet, the lame duck CIA chief, sat unassumingly between the head of the Peace Corps and a cable TV co-host.
A lovely line of rich American history was found right behind Tenet, with members of the extended Johnson, Eisenhower, Nixon and Kennedy clans. Side-by-side one spied Lynda Bird Johnson Robb and husband Charles; David Eisenhower, grandson of Dwight, with wife Julie, daughter of Richard Nixon. Julie's sister, Tricia Cox, who did have a White House wedding, was next to husband Edward, while Caroline Kennedy Schlossberg and husband Edward filled out the pew.
All had been to similar gatherings, far closer to home emotionally. What flashbacks must have been going through their minds about bidding farewell to a president? What might they have been recalling as the cavernous cathedral was filled and then, after the playing of "Amazing Grace," as President Bush was seated and the coffin was making its way up nearby Wisconsin Avenue, and a spontaneous quiet came upon the entire gathering?
In a capital whose life so thrives on the spoken and written word, nearly 10 minutes passed without more than the occasional hushed whisper to a seatmate. Those who make their livings being articulate and garrulous, like NBC's Katie Couric, Tom Brokaw and Tim Russert, all sat quiet near the front.
Dynamic intellectual inspirations for Reagan's conservative revolution, like publisher and author William F. Buckley Jr., were mum, too.
The death of an American president had bound together all with the simple profundity of silence.
---
© 2004, Chicago Tribune.
