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tv   Funeral Service for Nancy Reagan  CSPAN  December 30, 2016 12:48am-1:54am EST

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what we were trying to do is highlight the values of the restitution of the united states, the values of freedom of speech, freedom of practice -- the constitution of the united states, the values of freedom of speech, freedom of practice, do practice of law. -- due process of law. those values are challenged today. >> watch or listen on the free app. 2016 draws to a close, we take a look back at important figures in politics passed this year. we show you special programming from the lives and careers of nancy reagan, gwen eiffel, senator robert bennett, abner mcvie, and anton scalia. from the reagan presidential library in ca valley, california, this is about an hour. ♪
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>> i am the resurrection and the life, so the lord. in me, yetieveth that he was dead, shall live. and he that believeth in me shall never die. i know that my redeemer live stand of the latter days on the earth and yet robust body may be destroyed, i shall see god. none of us lives to themselves and no man dies to himself. four if we live, we live on to unto the lord and if we die, we die unto the lord.
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whether we live or die, we are the lord's. blessed are those who died for -- they, for the rest rest from their labors. >> holt. -- halt. enter. down. ready. up. ready.
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face. step. up. up . >> a reading from the book of proverbs. wife,ne finds a worthy her value is far beyond p earls. she brings him good and not evil, all the days of her life. and flax andl makes cloth with skillful hands. secures provisions from afar. she rises while it is the light and distributes food to her outsold. -- household. she plants a vineyard. she is girt with strength and sturdy are her arms.
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she enjoys the successes of her dealings. at night, her lamp is undimmed. she puts her hand to the distaff and her fingers to the spindle. she reaches her hands out to the poor. she fear not for her household. she makes her own coverlets, fine linen and purple or her clothing. of theband is prominent city gate as he sits with the elders of the land. garments and stocks the merchants of the veldt. she opens her mouth and wisdom -- in wisdom and on her tongue is kindly council. she watches the conduct of her counsel and each not her food in idleness. her children rise up and
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appraiser, -- and praise her, her children extol her. many are the women of proven worth but you have excelled them all. woman who fears the lord is to be praised. differently her the reward of her labors and let her works praise or at the city gates -- give her the rewards of her labors and let her works praise her at the city gates. >> amen. >> in the spring of 1987, president reagan and by were weren into a large -- i
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driven into a large hanger in the ottawa airport to the arrival of mrs. reagan and my prior to the departure ceremonies following their highly successful state visit to canada. president reagan and i were alone except for the security details. when her car drove in a moment later, stepped nancy and mila -- out stepped nancy and mila, looking like a million bucks. threwent reagan beamed, his arm around my shoulder, and said with a grin "you know,
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brian, for two irish men, we sure married up. [laughter] i mention this antidote again --because it reflects a unique reagan reality. she really, always, was on his mind. we all know of ron's love and admiration for nancy, and the elegance and constant manner in which he publicly expressed it. one day at the white house, after another absolutely flowing tribute by president reagan to his beloved nancy, i said, privately, you know, ron, you're going to get me and all the rest of us here in a whole lot of trouble with our wives. because we cannot keep up with you. [laughter] the president chuckled and look at me with that irish twinkle, and said well, brian, that is your problem, not mine. [laughter]
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brian mulroney: to illustrate this absolutely unique partnership and relationship, let me share with you today a letter he wrote to nancy on their first christmas together in the white house, on december 25, 1981. dear mrs. r., there are several much beloved women in my life and on christmas i should be giving them gold and precious stones and furs and lace and perfume. i know that even the best of these would fall short of expressing how much these women mean to me and how empty my life would be without them. there is of course my first lady. she brings so much grace and charm to whatever she does, that even stuffy, formal functions sparkle and turn into fun times. everything is done with class. all i have to do is wash up and show up. [laughter] brian mulroney: there's another woman in my life who does things i do not always get to see, but i hear about them and see photos of her doing them.
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she takes an abandoned child in her arms, and the look on her face, only a madonna could match. and the look on the child's face is one of adoration, because i -- and i know, because i adore her as well. she bends over a wheelchair and the bed to touch an elderly invalid with warmth and compassion. just as she fills my entire life with warmth and love. there is another gal i love, who is a nest builder. if she were stuck for three days in a hotel room, she would manage to make it home sweet home. she moves things around, looks at it, straightens this, straightens that, and you wonder why it was not like that in the first place. i am also crazy about the girl who goes to the ranch with me. if we are tidying up the woods, she is a peewee powerhouse. pushing over dead trees.
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she is a wonderful person to sit by the fire with, or to ride with, or just to be with when the sun goes down and the stars come out. if ever she stopped going to the ranch, i would stop too because i would see her in every beauty spot there is, and i couldn't stand that. then there is a sentimental lady i love, whose eyes fill up so easily. on the other hand, she loves to laugh and her laugh is like tinkling bells. i hear those bells, and i feel good all over, even if i tell a joke she has heard many times before. fortunately, all of these women in my life are you. fortunately for me that is, for there could be no life for me without you.
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browning asked, how do i love thee, let me count the ways. for me, there is no way to count, i love the whole gang of you, mommy, first lady, the sentimental you, the fun you, and the peewee powerhouse you. merry christmas you all, with all of my love, lucky me. [laughter] brian mulroney: there's was the love story for the ages. as first couple ron and nancy reagan represented america with great distinction. they had a magnificent sense of occasion. they had style, and they had grace, and they had class. some of you may have heard my reference to lines from william butler yeats when talking in
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other circumstances to what the reagans meant to us all. today, those same golden words tumbled across cotton and down the vista of the years, as we think of nancy reunited, finally, with her beloved ronnie. yeats wrote, "think where man's glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was that i had such friends."
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♪ [ave maria] ♪ >> we do not want you to be
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unaware brothers, about those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope. for if we believe that jesus died and rose, so too will god, through jesus, bring with him those who have fallen asleep. indeed, we tell you this on the word of the lord, that we who are alive and left until the coming of the lord, will surely not precede those who have fallen asleep. for the lord himself, with the word of command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet of god will come down from heaven and the dead in christ will rise first.
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that we know are alive who are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the lord in the air. thus, we shall always be with the lord. therefore, console one another with these words. the word of the lord. >> thanks be to god. [crowd in unison] diane sawyer: thank you so much. it is an honor, and i'm so grateful to be included today. i have been asked to say a few words before i read a passage from the new testament for mrs. reagan. you may want to sit down.
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[laughter] diane sawyer: 15 years ago i interviewed her, it was long after the white house years, and i did not know her then. but our conversation was about the president and alzheimer's, and how you go on when every single day, the size of the love is the size of the loss. and when the interview was over, we kept talking. and i think i joined so many of you here who checked in with her by phone, and came to los angeles to have lunches with her. those lunches, in which she a microscopic amounts of food, tiny little chopped salads and one chocolate chip cookie, and iced tea. and i was so terrified of that that i used to hide my roll under the table and butter it, so she would not see it. i did not want to offend her. [laughter] but make no mistake, she would bop a journalist if she did not
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like a report that was done. but she never parted differences into definitions. she was way too interested in people into who you really were, what you really knew. all of us will together in this life. and so we talked about politics, and celebrities, and she told wicked stories about old hollywood. and in the days of life would throw you a curve, and you would get up and put on your lipstick, comb your hair, and kept the band playing. and i always thought of the old, desert movie morocco, that said there is no foreign legion, just for women, but there is a foreign legion for women too. they have no uniform, no flag, no medals, but they were brave. and as lunch ended, she would make her way up the hill to the
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house with the memories, the silences, and her happiness and the children were coming. and all this week i have been thinking about watching her head down the hall, because she would head into the bedroom and right there, i cannot remember what it was, was a pillow or a frame to needlepoint, but i know the words were clearly for president reagan. it says something like this, if you must believe, could you just take me with you? and i think of that again today as i read what i am asked to read this passage from the gospel of john. jesus said, "do not let your hearts be troubled. trust in god, trust also in me. in my father's house are many rooms, if it were not so, i would have told you. i am going there to prepare a place for you, and if i go to prepare a place for you, i will
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come back and take you with me so that you may be where i am. you know the way to the place where i am going." thomas said to him, "lord, we don't know where you are going, so how can we know the way?" jesus answered, "i am the way and the truth and the life. no one comes to the father except through me." for nancy, the word of the lord. >> thanks be to god. [crowd in unison] ♪
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[pie jesu-requiem] ♪ james a. baker iii: we gather
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here today to say goodbye to nancy davis reagan, a beautiful, smart, and gracious woman, a woman who captured the heart of a man who loved his craft, his country, and his countrymen, and most especially, loved this remarkable woman. a woman without whom ronald
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wilson reagan would never have become the 40th president of the united states, or succeeded as well as he did. the cold war that president reagan did so much to end brought them together. in 1950, the name nancy davis appeared on a list of communist sympathizers, with the blacklisters know that this was a different person, and not the young actress? she took her problem to her union boss, the president of the screen actors guild, ronald reagan. they met at a hollywood restaurant. the dinner would be brief, they agreed, because each had an early casting call. in fact, neither had an early casting call. [laughter] an early casting call was the standard hollywood excuse to put a quick end to unpleasant
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dinners. but when i opened the door, she wrote later, i knew he was the man i wanted to marry. their meeting lasted through dinner, and then into the wee hours at a nearby club. the third age in shakespeare's seven ages of man is the lover, sighing like a furnace, with a woeful ballard. shakespeare, of course, is gently mocking young lovers, their passion always burns hot, he said, and then it fades. well, the bard never met nancy or her ronnie. as prime minister mulroney pointed out, they could hardly bear to be a part. when he was on a movie set, or on the road for general electric, or as a candidate, or as governor, or as president, he wrote her, every single night.
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when they were together, he hid love notes around the house for her to find. one christmas at pacific palisades, he wrote, whenever i treasure and enjoy, all would be without meaning if i did not have view. i live in a permanent christmas because god gave me you. nancy saved his love letters in a shopping bag in her closet. she reciprocated by slipping little notes and jellybeans in with the clothes in his suitcase. and while he was away, she said, i would drive home feeling very lonely and very sad, and i would knit him socks. she also reciprocated by dedicating her life to him. i was, i suppose, a woman of the old school, she wrote. if you wanted to make your life
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with a man, you took on whatever his interests were, and they became your interests, too. if ronald reagan had owned a shoe store, nancy would have been very happy pushing shoes and working the register. ronald reagan's interest turned in a different direction, of course, to politics and public service. nancy, who might have preferred a more private life, became the consummate political wife and first lady. he owed much of the success of his presidency to her. she had an instinct for reading people that the president knew he lacked. nancy, he wrote, sees the goodness in people, but she also has an extra instinct that allows her to see the flaws. nancy was the president's eyes and ears when it came to personnel. she knew who was paddling their
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own canoe and who was loyal to the president. she was as tough as a marine drill sergeant, as many of us found out when things did not go well. [laughter] the president's advisers learned to keep her informed and seek her support. if she trusted them and agreed, she would add her voice to theirs, but she was without a doubt, absolutely without a doubt, his closest advisor. she is the one who said, you need to do this, ronnie, you need to find a way to negotiate with gorbachev. the only time i saw her lose her composure was the day the president was shot. she was devastated and, in fact, she fell apart. even in his condition, he did his best to give her strength. honey, i forgot to duck, he said. [laughter] james a. baker iii: that was his way of comforting her. president reagan left the
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hospital convinced that god had spared him for a special purpose, and the first lady left with a fierce determination to protect him in every way that she possibly could. ronald and nancy reagan were defined by their love for each other. they were as close to being one person as it is possible for any two people to be. when the president made his slow exit from the stage, she dedicated herself to his memory, and to his place in history. now she, too, has exited the stage, to join her beloved ronnie in eternity. i can just imagine how st. peter might let the president know that she had arrived. a beautiful lady is at the gate asking for you, he said, with a jar of jelly beans.
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[laughter] james a. baker iii: a shopping bag full of letters, and a suitcase filled with hand-knitted socks. we love you, nancy. we miss you, but we will see you on the other side. tom brokaw: this is a very emotional and evocative time for me. i arrived in los angeles in 1966 to join nbc news three and a half years out of south dakota, i was 26 years old, and the
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geniuses on the nbc news desk said to me, there is an actor running for governor of california. we don't think he is going anywhere, you are the junior guy, so you get on the bus with him. [laughter] tom brokaw: it is also worth pointing out that was before the brown family put a semipermanent lease on the governor's office in california. [laughter] tom brokaw: and so i did. and it was such an instructive beginning for me as a political correspondent, because i saw the best run campaign i had ever seen up to that point, and maybe since. by the time the governor got ready to run for a second term, i knew my way around, so i went to the los angeles press club where he would make his announcement, and walked into the holding room early and took a seat in the far corner. but then i realized it was kind of reserved for reagan supporters and family and friends because they began to line the walls, including jimmy and gloria stuart.
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nancy came in and she was on autopilot as she made her way around that wall of friends and supporters, giving each a kiss, squeeze of the hand, and a word or two did it dawned on me that she was going to get to me. [laughter] tom brokaw: i am the outlier at that point, i'm a reporter from the press. she got to me and she leaned back and i quickly said, mrs. reagan, whatever it is i have, it is not catching. i can promise you that. [laughter] tom brokaw: she laughed heartily, leaned over, and gave me a kiss. that was the beginning of a remarkable friendship between the first lady and a reporter. it was also a time when i began to appreciate just how much she meant to the man who became the president of the united states, not just as his wife, but as his best political advisor, as jim baker and others have pointed out. she could be, as we all saw in
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those photographs and videos, she could be the adoring wife in public, but behind the scenes she was a politically astute analyst and the keeper of the flame. we stayed in close touch but it was not always easy. shortly after his inauguration as president, i made some public comments about his early years in which i said i thought the poor boy in narrative was somewhat overblown. after all, he had been a successful broadcaster in his 20's and then a movie star under contract before he was 30. nancy was furious, and the word came from jim baker and others, stay clear of the white house for a while. [laughter] tom brokaw: we will let you know when it is safe to go back. [laughter] tom brokaw: about two months later, meredith and i were invited to a state dinner and i was told that i would have to think about what i was going to say to her when i arrived in the receiving line. don't say anything to the president, he doesn't care, but nancy is still steaming. meredith was nervous because i had not come up with anything to
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say. [laughter] tom brokaw: finally, i stood before her, and i saw in her eyes that steely glaze from people who did not please her. and i spontaneously said, nancy, back to square one. she looked at me and broke out laughing and said, back to square one. the next day, a white house photograph of that moment arrived with the inscription, "tom, back to square one, love, nancy." that was such a telling moment about how astute she was as a political wife, as someone who knew about personal relationships, how to get her message across, and then quickly move on. we all saw those other moments when she was utterly in command. jim has referred to that awful day when the president was shot. they did not know what his condition was when the secret service told her that there was
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a shooting, the president was rushed to the hospital, she said i must go. they said we don't think that is a good idea. she said right away, you get me a car or i will walk to the hospital. the president and i shared a birthday. over the years, it became an occasion to share phone calls and notes, especially between mrs. reagan and me. when the president was going through his ordeal after leaving the white house, our calls became more regular, and i could hear her loneliness, and on one of the calls i suggested the next time i'm in california, we should have lunch. and maybe we should invite our mutual friend warren beatty. no, tom, she said, it is enough to have lunch with you. [laughter] tom brokaw: until the next day when the phone call arrived and it was nancy saying, do you think warren might want to have lunch with us? [laughter] tom brokaw: of course. and the luncheon companion star
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power went up many multiples. there is nothing like walking into a los angeles dining room with mrs. reagan on your arm. brokaw and beatty were also quickly in the publications. we treasured those lunches because she always arrived with political observations and the best gossip from both coasts. metaphorically, there was no lunch for me. as a you would just at the president's funeral, i looked down at the first few and decided it was my duty to name them, president and mrs. bush, president and mrs. bush, president carter, and vice president dick cheney, president and mrs. clinton. i finished my remarks, walked back to sit beside meredith and said to me, you did not mention nancy. i said, she is not here. she said, yes, she is, she is hidden behind the column. [laughter] tom brokaw: i had not seen her, so i eagerly called our friend
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stu spencer who answered by saying, what were you thinking, brokaw? stu, do you think she noticed? [laughter] tom brokaw: are you kidding? here is her mobile number. call her right now, which i did. i took my medicine from an aggrieved friend for the next 15 minutes, until she accepted my explanation, and then it was back to square one again. [laughter] tom brokaw: and in the way i got out of it was, she had been given a terrible seat, i agreed. what i so admired about nancy was that ability to do just that. she knew how to protect her husband and her president, but also her own place, to stand her ground, and once it had been resolved, to move on. that was never more evident on the many occasions when i spoke here at the library.
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we meet in a holding room downstairs to catch up on the latest gossip, what was going on in our personal lives, and then after everyone had been seated, especially after she was confined to a wheelchair, i would help get her to her feet, then we would take her to an entryway that had been curtained off, and beyond the entry way could hear the music begin to swell, and off stage announcer in toning, ladies and gentlemen, the former first lady of the united states, nancy reagan and her guest tom brokaw. i would escort her into the auditorium and into the front row and seek her beside tom selleck, her friend, and then give my lecture. the last time we were there together, i received an enthusiastic response from the audience. but i wanted to be sure nancy approved, so i leaned over to her seat as the applause continued and said, i hope that was ok.
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she whispered back to me, tom, give me a little kiss, they are going to love that. [laughter] tom brokaw: and so i did, and so they did. [laughter] tom brokaw: our shared editor of random house reminded me that when we lost nancy last weekend, it would have been the 68th anniversary of their marriage, ronnie and nancy. so god bless nancy, mrs. ronald reagan, first lady, and the unlikely friend of a reporter. thank you, nancy.
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patti davis: in the month before my father died, my mother repeated often that she had to be there at his last moment. her determination was ferocious. she simply had to be at his side when he left this world. i said the only thing i could think of, and what i thought my father would say, was that it was in god's hands. she was there, and occasionally i thought, even god might not have the guts to argue with nancy reagan. [laughter] patti davis: as her own health declined, she was quite adamant and vocal about reuniting with my father on the other side after her passing. i am hoping for god's peace of mind, that she got her wish.
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my parents were two halves of a circle, closed tight around a world in which their love for each other was the only sustenance they needed. while they might venture out and include others in their orbit, no one truly crossed the boundary into the space they held as theirs. i saw this exquisitely portrayed in front of me one summer evening when i was a teenager. we used to rent a beach house for a few weeks in the summer. and on this evening, with a vivid sunsets across the sky, i looked out and saw my parents sitting on the sand, close together, heads tilted in conversation. there was so much of vastness around them, the blue pacific, the orange and pink sky, miles of white sand, and then there was the circle of their own private world, as clear as if it had been traced around them, indestructible, impenetrable, an island for two.
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i knew i would carry that image for the rest of my life. when my father was shot and my mother rushed to the hospital, they at first would not let her see him. i have to, she said. you don't understand how it is with us. the moment before my father died, he opened his eyes, which had been closed for days, and he looked straight at my mother. the circle was drawn again as he left this world. in the weeks after he died, my mother thought she heard his footsteps coming down the hall late at night. she said he would appear to her long after midnight, sitting on the edge of the bed. i don't know anything about the possible passages between this world and the next, but i do know her faith in these visits eased some of her loneliness. they made her feel that he was close by. on one occasion, i am quite certain that she was channeling my father. i had gone up to her house and
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found her very busy making phone calls to elected officials, trying to gain their support for stem cell legislation, something she was quite passionate about. she ended one phone call and gave me a somber look. well, she said, in a calm tone, sounding much more like my father than herself, karl rove is dogging my phone calls. everyone i call, he calls right after and tries to get them to oppose stem cell legislation. right after, i asked. are you sure your phone is not bugged? no, i had a secret service check on that. [laughter] patti davis: you must be furious, i told her, puzzled by the fact that she did not seem furious at all. she shook her head, no, and her entire demeanor was not only calm but practically zen.
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even people who never knew my mother will know that the word zen has never before been applied to nancy reagan. [laughter] patti davis: but that is what i saw. there is no time to get upset, she said, there is work to be done, i cannot get distracted. i have to keep moving forward. i admit, i did say, who are you, and what have you done with my mother? [laughter] patti davis: over time, what she referred to as late-night visits from my father ceased. she no longer heard his footsteps in the hall, but she never stopped missing him. she told me the reason she had a television on all the time was because it filled the house with sound and made her feel less lonely. another remedy for her loneliness was to fill the empty spaces with stories and memories. a few days before she died, i reminded her of something that happened many decades ago when we lived in pacific palisades.
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my father used to get massages from a large eastern european man who would come to the house and set up his massage table in my parents dressing room. on one of these days, as my father lay face down on a table, my mother tiptoed in, kissed him lightly on the back of his neck, and tiptoed out. [laughter] patti davis: he did not know it was her. [laughter] patti davis: but he went through the rest of the massage. [laughter] patti davis: never said a word, and after the masseuse left, he said to my mother, i don't think we can have him back anymore. [laughter] patti davis: why, she asked, what happened? well, he kissed me.
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when she told him it was her he was flooded with relief, and said, thank god, i did not know what to do. [laughter] patti davis: my mother's laughter in remembering that day would, unbeknownst to me, would turn out to be the last time i would hear her laugh. it is no secret that my mother and i had a challenging and often contentious relationship. when i was a child, i imagined having warm, comfortable conversations with her, the kind of conversations that feel like lamplight. the reality was far different. i tried her patience, and she intimidated me. we were never mild with one another, whether we were distant and angry, or bonded and close. our emotions burned up the color chart.
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nothing was ever gray. but there were moments in our history when all that was going on between us was love. i choose to remember those moments. i choose to remember the mother who held together the back of her young daughter's head after she fell at a friends house and cracked her skull open on the fireplace hearth. she drove with one hand and held my head with the other, talking soothingly to me and trying to conceal the fear in her eyes. watching her was hypnotic. it made my head hurt less. i choose to remember my mother, framed by the window of a new york hotel room as i told her that i have been involved in a complicated relationship for two years and had now been cruelly tossed aside. i was 19. i felt older and more wounded than any 19-year-old should feel. i needed a mother, and i came to mine, holding out a fragile hope that she would keep me from
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crumbling beyond all recognition. she did. she did not judge me, she was not punishing or accusatory. she was tender and understanding and loving. i choose to remember walking with her along the beach. somehow, the ocean always calms the air between us and allows us to be easy with each other. most of all, i will remember looking out the window to the sweep of sunset and seeing my parents sitting together on the sand, maybe on the other side there are other shores and eternally brilliant sunsets. maybe it's possible to sit there forever, undisturbed, two souls happily entwined, needing only each other. robert sexton wrote, across the years, i will walk with you. in the green forest, on shores of sand, and when our time on earth is through, in heaven, too, you will have my hand. i hope for my parents those
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words don't live only in the poets imagination, but are a map to what they both long for and believed in in the world beyond this one. ron reagan: i love that story about the masseur. i imagined my dad laying on the table, laying there, just waiting for this man to do something else. [laughter] ron reagan: what must have been going through his mind? [laughter] ron reagan: i guess i'm batting cleanup here, so on behalf of my family, thank you all for coming here.
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we really appreciate it. my sister and i who suddenly find ourselves orphaned, really appreciate being surrounded by so much love and kindness. and to jim, tom, everybody else who spoke, their kind words, appreciate that very much. and to the folks at the library here who put this whole thing on. what a terrific job they have done. we so much appreciate that, too. she did love a party, and she would want this to be a party. this is not a tragedy, this is a celebration. i hope you had a chance to have a look around here. some of you, of course, have been here many times before. i hope you realize, none of this would have been possible without nancy reagan. i do not mean that she was active in fund raising, building the library -- of course, she was. what i really mean to say is there would be no ronald reagan presidential library without a
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president ronald reagan, and there likely would not have been a president ronald reagan, without a nancy reagan. of course, it may not have happened that way, if she was not made of such stern stuff, she may not have made it all the way to being mrs. ronald reagan. my dad played hard to get a little bit when they were dating, way back when. he had already purchased a ranch not too far from here in malibu, and he loved to go there and ride his horses and buck hey, generally get dirty and sweaty outdoors. not the kind of thing that she is really crazy about, my mother. [laughter] ron reagan: but she was a good sport, and she wanted to participate in this. if he loved his ranch, well, she was going to love the ranch, too. and so she would go out there and he would do his thing and she would wonder how she could help. this ranch in malibu, about 700
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acres, had a long driveway that led to the house, about a half mile, fences on both sides. so they would go out there and hang out, the ranchers, but she wanted to help, as i said, so she asked him, what can i do to help? did i mention that the fences lining that half mile driveway were unpainted? [laughter] ron reagan: so he handed her a bucket of paint and a brush, and my mother painted a miles worth of fence. every post, every plank, both sides. once. [laughter] ron reagan: that paint job lasted for the duration. confident but was
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he was not an arrogant man at all. and it takes a great deal of puts -- chutzpah to run for president or governor of california and her absolute leaf zpah togave him that chut run for office. i do not know if he would have done it otherwise. my mother provided guidance and a refuge in which he could prepare and gather his strength. she protected him. both possessed a great individual talents. but as a couple, they were more than the sum of their parts. and it would be a mistake by the way to consider her in some way heordinate to him because was the one usually taking center stage. co-equals, they complemented one another. individually, they may have gone far, but together they could and
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they did go anywhere. tofather was inclined believe that everyone was basically good and that certainly, anyone that worked for him was pure of heart and could never be nursing a private agenda. my mother did not share that inclination. [laughter] and she did not have that luxury. in my mother's world, you were either helpful to her husband or you were not. and i think we all know what side of the equation you would want to be on. since we are among friends, i think we can admit that she was not always the easiest person to deal with. she could be difficult. she could be demanding. be aould be a bit does -- bit obsessive. truly, she could be a royal pain if she wanted to but only so that my father did not have to be. mom'sd not want to get on
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bad side particularly by hurting her husband. if you did that, you had earned yourself and implacable foe. if you happened to run into the ghost of don regan sometime, you can just ask. on the other hand, on the other hand, you could not ask for a more loyal or dedicated friend. you ask joan rivers should run into her in the hereafter. husband died he was on the east coast and joan for some reason could not get the corner to release his body so he could come home to the west coast. joan is a comedienne. she did not know who to call to pull things like that to get something done. she was acquainted with my mother but they were not great friends, yet. nevertheless, she got up her couric and called the white house and got my mother on the phone. husband's body was on the
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next plane out of town to the west coast. husband's body was on the next plane out of tone to the west coast. i see the faces of many friends. people who have known and loved my mother for many years. most of her buddies are gone. heris among the last of cohorts, the old gang, her generation and now she is truly with them. if my mother had one great talent it was that she knew how to love and she loved one man more than the world. in her later years after my father had gone, she used to ask me if i thought she would be with him again when she died. i am not a believer in the supernatural but i always assured her that wherever dad had gone, she was surely going to go there too. toshould all be so lucky stand up where we have always wanted to be and today my mother comes to rest on this lovely
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hilltop with its far-reaching views next to her beloved ronald reagan library. here, she way, from will be able to keep an eye on things. [laughter] just saying -- no slacking. how long will it be before tales begin to emerge about a petite spirite -- chanel clad roaming the halls checking to make sure things are running smoothly. most importantly, she will once again lay down beside the man who was the love of her life. the one she loved until the end of her days. dropwill watch the sun over the hills in the west towards the sea and as night falls, a will look out across the valley. my father will tell her that the lights below are her jewels.
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willoon and the stars endlessly turn overhead and here they will stay, as they always wished it to be. resting in each other's arms, only each other's arms until the end of time. >> in september, 1994, nancy with anthony to talk about her time as first lady and how she dealt with the assassination attempt on ronald reagan. this portion of the conversation is part of our year end in memoriam program. do you think that ronald reagan could have been elected president without nancy reagan? oh!y reagan: [laughter] oh my!


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