‘That’s a lot about me, Jon’: Presidential biographer Jon Meacham reveals how George H.W. Bush humbly reacted after he read his eulogy to the former president before his death
- Meacham has been praised for his moving tribute to Bush Senior on Wednesday
- Spoke of the day Bush’s plane was shot down during WWII and only he survived
- Said Bush lived his life asking ‘Why me?’ and wanted to prove himself ‘worthy’
- Meacham also spoke of Bush Senior and Barbara’s incredible 73-year-marriage
- And recalled moment Bush broke down in tears while meeting child with cancer
Before President George H.W Bush passed away, he had the chance to hear the eulogy written for him by his biographer and old friend Jon Meacham.
Meacham would deliver the same tribute to the 41st president on Wednesday, moving the audience as he spoke of the important events in Bush’s 94 years of life.
But when the humble Texan heard Meacham’s stirring words, he simply replied: ‘That’s a lot about me, Jon’.
Meacham spoke at length about the moments that shaped Bush, including his time as a pilot for the US Navy in World War II, his long love for wife Barbara, and his enduring legacy as a president of the United States.
‘On his watch, a wall fell in Berlin, a dictator’s aggression did not stand, and doors across American opened to those with disabilities,’ Meacham told the assembled mourners.
SCROLL DOWN FOR VIDEO AND JON MEACHAM’S EULOGY IN FULL
Presidential biographer Jon Meacham delivered a stirring eulogy to George HW Bush during the 41st president’s funeral on Wednesday morning
Meacham spoke of Bush’s time as a pilot for the US Navy during World War II, his love of wife Barbara, and his enduring legacy as a president of the United States
NBC host Willie Geist revealed how Bush responded after Meacham read him the stirring eulogy before his death
Meacham opened his eulogy at the Washington National Cathedral on Wednesday with a moment that would define Bush Senior for the rest of his life.
It was September 2, 1944. Bush, just 20 years old at the time, was a Navy lieutenant in the thick of World War II.
‘The story was almost over even before it had fully begun,’ Meacham said.
‘Lieutenant Junior Grade George Herbert Walker Bush, joined by two crew mates, took off from the USS San Jacinto to attack a radio tower on Chichijima.’
‘As they approached the target, the air was heavy with flack. The plane was hit. Smoke filled the cockpit, flames raced across the wings. “My god,” Lieutenant Bush thought, “This thing’s gonna go down.”’
‘Yet he kept the plane in its 35-degree dive, dropped his bombs, and then roared off out to sea, telling his crew mates to hit the silk. Following protocol, Lieutenant Bush turned the plane so they could bail out.’
Meacham, seen here walking past Bush’s casket, has been resoundingly praised for his poetic and touching tribute to a man he knew for decades
Bush parachuted from the cockpit, smacking his head on the tail of the plane as the wind propelled him backwards.
He plunged into the ocean and lifted himself onto a tiny raft.
‘His head bleeding, his eyes burning, his mouth and throat raw from salt water, the future 41st President of the United States was alone,’ Meacham told the crowd.
‘Sensing that his men had not made it, he was overcome. He felt the weight of responsibility as a nearly physical burden. And he wept.’
A submarine would rescue Bush from the water, setting the course of history.
‘George Herbert Walker Bush was safe. The story, his story and ours, would go on by God’s grace,’ Meacham continued.
It was a moment that stayed with Bush for the rest of his life. He asked himself, almost every single day, why it was he who was spared.
‘In a sense, the rest of his life was a perennial effort to prove himself worthy of his salvation on that distant morning,’ Meacham said.
Meacham could be seen shaking George W Bush’s hand after delivering the moving eulogy for his father at the National Cathedral
Meacham praised Bush as ‘America’s last great soldier-statesman, a 20th century founding father’ during his eulogy
‘To him, his life was no longer his own. There were always more missions to undertake, more lives to touch, and more love to give. And what a headlong race he made of it all. He never slowed down.’
Meacham praised Bush as ‘America’s last great soldier-statesman, a 20th century founding father’ who ‘governed with virtues’ seen in the likes of George Washington, John Adams, and FDR – ‘men who believed in causes larger than themselves’.
He also compared Bush to Abraham Lincoln, saying that both presidents ‘called on us to choose the right over the convenient, to hope rather than to fear’.
‘Because life gave him so much, he gave back again and again and again,’ Meacham told the crowd at one point.
‘He stood in the breach in the Cold War against totalitarianism. He stood in the breach in Washington against unthinking partisanship. He stood in the breach against tyranny and discrimination.’
Meacham also spoke lovingly of Bush’s 73-year marriage to Barbara Bush, revealing he called his wife ‘Barb’, ‘the silver fox’, or ‘the enforcer’.
Meacham became close with the Bush family as he worked on the president’s life story. He is pictured here shaking Bush’s hand and holding a copy of the biography
Bush (pictured with Meacham and Bob Dole in December 2016) handpicked the biographer to deliver the eulogy, as well as his son George W Bush, former Wyoming senator Alan Simpson, and former Canadian Prime Minister Brian Mulroney
‘He was the only boy she ever kissed. Her children, Mrs Bush liked to say, always wanted to throw up when they heard that,’ Meacham said as the crowd laughed.
‘In a letter to Barbara during the war, young George HW Bush had written, “I love you, precious, with all my heart, and to know that you love me means my life. How lucky our children will be to have a mother like you.”’
‘And as they will tell you, they surely were.’
Robin Bush, the three-year-old daughter that Bush and Barbara lost to leukemia, was mentioned throughout Wednesday’s ceremony – including during Meacham’s eulogy.
The biographer recalled a visit that Bush paid to Krakow, Poland while serving as vice president under Ronald Reagan.
It was there that he met a small boy who was sick with the same cancer that had taken his little girl.
Meacham spoke at length of the day Bush was nearly killed among his men while flying with the Navy in World War II. Bush (pictured here in his cockpit during WWII) spent the rest of his life asking himself ‘Why Me?’
Meacham also joked about comedian Dana Carvey’s famous impersonation of Bush on SNL
Meacham read a diary entry that Bush had written that day, revealing he had burst into tears upon meeting the boy.
‘Behind me was a bank of television cameras. And I thought, “I can’t turn around. I can’t dissolve because of personal tragedy in the face of the nurses that give of themselves every day.” So I stood there looking at this little guy, tears running down my cheek, hoping he wouldn’t see. But if he did, hoping he’d feel that I loved him.’
Meacham also had a few light-hearted tales to tell of Bush, including once when he remarked that ‘fluency in English is something that I’m often not accused of’.
A nation unites to mourn a warrior, a statesman and a…
Sweet moment grieving George W. Bush slips a smiling…
Share this article
He also recalled one moment on the primary campaign trail that Bush accidentally shook the hand of a mannequin by mistake.
‘When he realized his mistake, he said, ‘Never know. Gotta ask,” Meacham said as the crowd laughed.
‘You can hear the voice, can’t you? As Dana Carvey said, the key to a Bush 41 impersonation is Mr. Rogers trying to be John Wayne.’
All four living presidents, as well as a number of foreign dignitaries, attended Bush’s funeral in Washington DC on Wednesday morning
Meacham concluded his stirring eulogy by returning to the very moment he opened it. A young Bush, alone in the water, asking ‘Why me?’
‘The workings of providence are mysterious, but this much is clear,’ Meacham began.
‘George Herbert Walker Bush, who survived that fiery fall into the waters of the Pacific three quarters of a century ago, made our lives and the lives of nations freer, better, warmer, and nobler.’
‘That was his mission. That was his heartbeat. And if we listen closely enough, we can hear that heartbeat even now.’
‘For it’s the heartbeat of a lion, a lion who not only led us, but who loved us. That’s why him. That’s why he was spared.’
JON MEACHAM’S FULL EUOLOGY TO GEORGE H.W. BUSH
The story was almost over even before it had fully begun. Shortly after dawn on Saturday, September 2, 1944, Lieutenant Junior Grade George Herbert Walker Bush, joined by two crew mates, took off from the USS San Jacinto to attack a radio tower on Chichijima. As they approached the target, the air was heavy with flack. The plane was hit. Smoke filled the cockpit; flames raced across the wings. ‘My god,’ Lieutenant Bush thought, ‘this thing’s gonna go down.’ Yet he kept the plane in its 35-degree dive, dropped his bombs, and then roared off out to sea, telling his crew mates to hit the silk. Following protocol, Lieutenant Bush turned the plane so they could bail out.
Only then did Bush parachute from the cockpit. The wind propelled him backward, and he gashed his head on the tail of the plane as he flew through the sky. He plunged deep into the ocean, bobbed to the surface, and flopped onto a tiny raft. His head bleeding, his eyes burning, his mouth and throat raw from salt water, the future 41st President of the United States was alone. Sensing that his men had not made it, he was overcome. He felt the weight of responsibility as a nearly physical burden. And he wept. Then, at four minutes shy of noon, a submarine emerged to rescue the downed pilot. George Herbert Walker Bush was safe. The story, his story and ours, would go on by God’s grace.
Through the ensuing decades, President Bush would frequently ask, nearly daily, he’d ask himself, ‘why me? Why was I spared?’ And in a sense, the rest of his life was a perennial effort to prove himself worthy of his salvation on that distant morning. To him, his life was no longer his own. There were always more missions to undertake, more lives to touch, and more love to give. And what a headlong race he made of it all. He never slowed down.
On the primary campaign trail in New Hampshire once, he grabbed the hand of a department store mannequin, asking for votes. When he realized his mistake, he said, ‘Never know. Gotta ask.’ You can hear the voice, can’t you? As Dana Carvey said, the key to a Bush 41 impersonation is Mr. Rogers trying to be John Wayne.
George Herbert Walker Bush was America’s last great soldier-statesman, a 20th century founding father. He governed with virtues that most closely resemble those of Washington and of Adams, of TR and of FDR, of Truman and of Eisenhower, of men who believed in causes larger than themselves. Six-foot-two, handsome, dominant in person, President Bush spoke with those big strong hands, making fists to underscore points.
A master of what Franklin Roosevelt called the science of human relationships, he believed that to whom much was given, much is expected. And because life gave him so much, he gave back again and again and again. He stood in the breach in the Cold War against totalitarianism. He stood in the breach in Washington against unthinking partisanship. He stood in the breach against tyranny and discrimination. And on his watch, a wall fell in Berlin, a dictator’s aggression did not stand, and doors across America opened to those with disabilities.
And in his personal life, he stood in the breach against heartbreak and hurt, always offering an outstretched hand, a warm word, a sympathetic tear. If you were down, he would rush to lift you up. And if you were soaring, he would rush to savor your success. Strong and gracious, comforting and charming, loving and loyal, he was our shield in danger’s hour.
Now, of course, there was ambition, too. Loads of that. To serve, he had to succeed. To preside, he had to prevail. Politics, he once admitted, isn’t a pure undertaking; not if you want to win, it’s not. An imperfect man, he left us a more perfect union.
It must be said that for a keenly intelligent statesman of stirring, almost unparalleled, private eloquence, public speaking was not exactly a strong suit. ‘Fluency in English,’ President Bush once remarked, ‘is something that I’m often not accused of.’ Looking ahead to the ’88 election, he observed inarguably, ‘it’s no exaggeration to say that the undecideds could go one way or the other.’ And late in his presidency, he allowed that ‘we are enjoying sluggish times, but we are not enjoying them very much.’
His tongue may have run amuck at moments, but his heart was steadfast. His life code, as he said, was ‘Tell the truth. Don’t blame people. Be strong. Do your best. Try hard. Forgive. Stay the course.’ And that was and is the most American of creeds. Abraham Lincoln’s ‘better angels of our nature’ and George H.W. Bush’s ‘thousand points of light’ are companion verses in America’s national hymn. For Lincoln and Bush both called on us to choose the right over the convenient, to hope rather than to fear, and to heed not our worst impulses, but our best instincts.
In this work, he had the most wonderful of allies in Barbara Pierce Bush, his wife of 73 years. He called her ‘Barb,’ ‘the silver fox’-and when the situation warranted-‘the enforcer.’ He was the only boy she ever kissed. Her children, Mrs. Bush liked to say, always wanted to throw up when they heard that. In a letter to Barbara during the war, young George H.W. Bush had written, ‘I love you, precious, with all my heart, and to know that you love me means my life. How lucky our children will be to have a mother like you.’ And as they will tell you, they surely were.
As Vice President, Bush once visited a children’s Leukemia ward in Krakow. Thirty-five years before, he and Barbara had lost a daughter, Robin, to the disease. In Krakow, a small boy wanted to greet the American Vice President. Learning that the child was sick with the cancer that had taken Robin, Bush began to cry.
To his diary later that day, the Vice President said this: ‘My eyes flooded with tears. And behind me was a bank of television cameras. And I thought, ‘I can’t turn around. I can’t dissolve because of personal tragedy in the face of the nurses that give of themselves every day.’ So I stood there looking at this little guy, tears running down my cheek, hoping he wouldn’t see. But if he did, hoping he’d feel that I loved him.’
That was the real George H.W. Bush, a loving man with a big, vibrant, all-enveloping heart. And so we ask, as we commend his soul to God, and as he did, ‘Why him? Why was he spared?’ The workings of providence are mysterious, but this much is clear: that George Herbert Walker Bush, who survived that fiery fall into the waters of the Pacific three quarters of a century ago, made our lives and the lives of nations freer, better, warmer, and nobler.
That was his mission. That was his heart beat. And if we listen closely enough, we can hear that heartbeat even now. For it’s the heartbeat of a lion, a lion who not only led us, but who loved us. That’s why him. That’s why he was spared.
Source: Read Full Article