You carried yourself with deep humility and you told great stories. You were the most unfailingly gracious of men. Outside of family, your capacity for kindness and generosity to others knew no bounds. You were a man of deep faith who always managed to love your family first and always at just the right moment. Here though are a few small things I think everyone should know about you. It is impossible for me to reflect on your vast life of service because it is simply too overwhelming that one person could accomplish so much in the one life we all share. “This is more important,” I remember you saying through the door. On one of the biggest nights of your life as president, you actually cared more about giving comfort to someone in need than anything else you could’ve or should’ve been doing that night. You wouldn’t budge because the spouse of a staff member had cancer and you were too busy consoling the family. Everyone in the room at the Houstonian Hotel was trying to rush you into the car to get you to your speech but you wouldn’t budge. I remember getting the opportunity to ride with you to the Houston Astrodome to give your speech for re-election in 1992.
I remember how you attended the funeral and gave the eulogy for Woodrow Willoughby, the longtime elevator operator at the White House, because he had become family. Your capacity to care about so many other people in life always astonished me. There’s a letter you wrote to me when a kid picked on me at school and another letter when I graduated from college. Over the years, I’ve collected dozens and dozens of personal letters from you about important matters like the family ranking committee for horseshoe and tennis tournaments. When you are a bigger guy, you should consider it.” Kind of a hard day for me to ever forget, Mr. What’s going on I think I asked and you replied “giving back is a great thing for someone to do Walker. I remember coming back to the breakwater and seeing signs of love and support for you lining Maine’s coastline. What I didn’t know was that it was also the day after you were asked to be vice president. I thought at the time this was the coolest thing in the world because I loved your fast boat. I was 6 years old and you asked me to go fishing with you. Just down the stairs from Craig’s room is a picture of one of my earliest memories, holding a stack of mackerel on the docks in Kennebunkport, Maine after a fishing trip with you. I had no idea then that my life for the next 44 years would be filled and enriched by your boundless capacity for love in more ways than I could ever have imagined.
In the letter you asked my parents to do you one favor, to please if they ever got sick of me to just leave me off with you so you could love and care for me. On my son Craig’s bedroom wall is the first letter you ever wrote to me or actually about me to my parents the day after I was born April 16, 1974. You were always someone I hoped could live forever though deep down I knew it impossible, even for George H.W. This is a tribute I actually hoped never to write. Digital Replica Edition Home Page Close Menu