Ronald Reagan Called The House
Philadelphia, PA
June 19, 1983
We knew he was going to call. My father had been working
diligently for months, years really, for this moment. Ronald Regan was going call my father tomorrow
with the news that Regan was going to nominate him to be a judge in the Federal
Court.
So, the night before the appointed phone call, we got our
directive. There are several of us,
sitting in the kitchen, having dinner. “Now, look,” he says, looking right at
me, “I know not everyone here likes Ronald Regan, but that’s just too bad. This
is the most important moment in my career.
And this is my house. So no joking around when he calls. It’s all
business.” He speaks with stern
confidence but I know he is worried.
Anything could happen between now and when that phone call comes
in. There could be a national emergency
or a political storm or some other unforeseen nuance that could derail this
opportunity for my father. He couldn’t
control those things. So he focuses on
what he thought he could control: us.
“No funny business. No comments. He probably won’t call
here. He’ll probably call my office. But
if someone from his office calls, just cooperate. Be friendly and polite. And no one can use
the phone all day. If your friends call,
tell them to call you on Wednesday.
Don’t call anyone and no hanging on the phone with anyone. Leave the line open. I think he is going to call at 10 but I can’t
be sure”
He has a few more directives to give us but by now, he’s
lost the crowd. Dessert is being served and we have moved on from the
excitement of the announcement. But we all see how tightly wound he is at this
moment. Tomorrow is going to be an
exciting day for my dad.
So the next day, he went off to work and shortly thereafter,
the phone did ring. It is my brother,
Jim. He had just become a father.
Caitlin had just been born. My mother talks with him briefly but then they both
remember that they couldn’t stay on the phone too long. The 10 o’clock hour is approaching.
The appointed hour passed and the phone didn’t ring. Then it was a little passed 11 and still no
call. Finally, around noon, the phone did ring but we think and hope it is an
update from the hospital so Patricia runs to answer in hopes of being able to
talk to Jimmy for just a few minutes.
I’m in the living room with my mother and we are laughing
about something but then we hear Patricia’s tone drop to a seriousness that
startles all of us.
“Yes, of course, one moment please and I will get that
information for you, “ we hear her saying and we know what’s up.
She puts the phone down and runs the very short distance
into the living room, “It’s the president.
It’s the president and he’s looking for dad’s work number. They don’t seem to have it. Where is it?”
Panic set in. My mother, Sharon and Patricia all run in different
directions, each going to another phone in hopes of finding an address book
that may have my dad’s current work number.
I wander in the den, right by the phone and I am looking at
the receiver and the idea of picking up the phone and talking to the president enters
my mind. I wouldn’t say anything to him
about his stupid comments on public education or his stupid ideas on how to fix
the economy. No, I thought to myself, I’d
just tell him to tell my dad that he became a grandfather again today. My comments would be light and friendly.
But then I stop myself. I remember that sometimes I think I
am so funny and other people don’t think I am.
This is not the day to play with my dad’s emotions. So I walk away. Patricia gets back on the phone and ends the
call as quickly as possible.
Ten minutes later, my dad calls, beaming with
excitement. We put the receiver down so
that all of us can hear his conversation. His speech is rapid and emotional. He
tells us Regan is going to nominate him to the US Senate to fill a position as
a judge on the Federal Court. So now,
with that news, the moratorium on the phone is over. We are allowed to use the phone again. We immediately call Jimmy to see when we
could come over to see the new baby.
