Ronald Reagan was widely viewed as a visionary. His deep and abiding faith in the goodness of the American people and our unlimited potential, coupled with his unmatched skills as a speaker, enabled him to communicate a clear and compelling idea of what our country could and should be. Sometimes, he was even predictive.
He was never more so than in August 1984, a very important month in Reagan’s Presidency – one that was choreographed as carefully as any during his eight years in the White House. Everything was designed to be a build-up to the Republican National Convention at the end of the month in Dallas where Reagan would triumphantly accept his party’s nomination for another term as president, officially kicking off the final stretch of his campaign for re-election.
Truth be told, things got off to a rocky start.
On the morning of Aug. 11, Reagan was at his beloved Rancho del Cielo in California, from where he was to deliver his weekly radio address to the nation. I was there, and as hard as I have tried to forget that day, I remember it well. A few minutes before the speech was to begin (9:06 a.m. PST/12:06 p.m. EST), Reagan strode into a trailer that had been converted into a make-shift radio studio, where technicians and staff were gathered. Clad in western riding attire, he was in his usual good mood as he took his seat at the table where the microphone had been placed. After some friendly banter with the folks in the room, the president was asked for a voice-level check, which meant he was to say a few sentences from the speech into the microphone to make sure everything was technically in order. He looked at the text in front of him and with a twinkle in his eye, said: “My fellow Americans, I’m pleased to tell you today that I’ve signed legislation that will outlaw Russia forever. We begin bombing in five minutes.”
Everyone in the room, including Reagan, laughed. Since such sound checks were to remain in the room and not “fed” outside, none of us present in the trailer had any idea that Reagan’s riff had been heard in the White House press briefing room at the hotel in Santa Barbara. But it had, and the reaction from the press and Reagan’s political opponents was swift and brutal.
The idyllic August so deliberately planned was on the verge of blowing up. Instead of smoothly cruising to the American political equivalent of a coronation in Dallas, Reagan and his aides were forced to push back against charges of insensitivity, irresponsibility, and even questions about age and competence.
Two days later, Reagan himself seized a golden opportunity to put things back on track when he went to Los Angeles to talk to U.S. Olympic Medal Winners. It was a virtual love-fest. The president beamed as he praised America’s young heroes who did it all for the red, white, and blue, and they, in turn, were clearly elated to be with the Gipper and Nancy.
Perhaps most interesting and important about what was on Reagan’s mind that day was what he said after the usual words of congratulations:
From California, Reagan returned to Washington for a few days and then hit the campaign trail for events in the heartland from which he came – Missouri, Ohio, and Illinois, to be specific – where the size and enthusiasm of the crowds made clear that his comments about “bombing Russia” had in no way diminished support for his candidacy.
By the time Ronald Reagan arrived in Dallas, his campaign for reelection was going exactly as planned. He was welcomed as a hero, and while he seemed to bask in the glow of his supporters, he was uncomfortable with the personal adoration. With Reagan, it was never about him. It was always about ideas, America, and the people.
That’s why he worked so hard on his acceptance speech. He knew that the country and world would be listening, and he wanted his words to resonate beyond the convention hall.
Reagan said a lot of things that night. He recited his administration’s record of accomplishments, knocked his opponents, and shared his goals for a second term. But he went beyond the usual political rhetoric to say something that not only did he not have to, but that he deeply felt and hoped would be heard and heeded by his party and country:
“…in the party of Lincoln, there is no room for intolerance and not even a small corner for anti-Semitism or bigotry of any kind. Many people are welcome in our house, but not the bigots.”
Twice in 10 days, Ronald Reagan had spoken movingly of the importance of diversity, tolerance, and inclusion. That was 35 years ago. It’s almost as if he knew what was coming.
Mark Weinberg is a communications consultant and executive speechwriter who served as Special Assistant to the President and Assistant Press Secretary in the Reagan White House, and Director of Public Affairs in the Office of former President Ronald Reagan. He is the author of the best-selling memoir, Movie Nights with the Reagans (Simon & Schuster).
