For our new president, the Inauguration was a thrilling beginning. For Laura and me, it was an end. It was another president’s turn, and I was ready to go home. After a heartwarming farewell ceremony at Andrews Air Force Base, Laura and I boarded Air Force One—now designated Special Air Mission 28000. We landed in Midland in the late afternoon of a beautiful West Texas winter day. We drove to a rally in Centennial Plaza, where we’d attended a sendoff ceremony eight years earlier. Many of the faces in the crowd were the same, a reminder of true friends who were with us before politics, during politics, and after politics.
At the welcome home rally in Midland. Eric Draper
“It is good to be home,” I said. “Laura and I may have left Texas, but Texas never left us. … When I walked out of the White House this morning, I left with the same values I brought eight years ago. And when I look in the mirror at home tonight, I will have no regrets about what I see—except maybe the gray hair.”
We flew to Crawford that night and were up at dawn the next morning for the first day of what Laura had termed “the afterlife.” I was struck by the calm. There was no CIA briefing to attend and no blue sheet from the Situation Room. I felt like I had gone from a hundred miles an hour to about ten. I had to force myself to relax. I would read the news and instinctively think about how we would have to respond. Then I remembered that decision was on someone else’s desk.
I had plenty to occupy my time. I went to work building the Bush Presidential Center on the campus of Southern Methodist University, which will include an official government archive, a museum, and a policy institute dedicated to promoting education reform, global health, economic growth, and human freedom, with a special emphasis on creating new opportunities for women around the world. I am blessed to be the only president to leave office with both parents alive, and I’m grateful for the chance to spend more time with them. In June 2009, Laura and I joined our extended family in Kennebunkport to mark Dad’s eighty-fifth birthday, which he celebrated with another parachute jump. Mother quipped that his choice of a landing zone, St. Ann’s Episcopal, was strategic. If the jump didn’t turn out well, at least he’d be near a cemetery.
Every now and then, there are reminders of how much life has changed. Shortly after we moved to Dallas, I took Barney for an early-morning walk around our neighborhood. I hadn’t done anything like that in more than a decade. Barney never had—he’d spent his entire life at the White House, Camp David, and Crawford. Barney spotted our neighbor’s lawn, where he promptly took care of his business. There I was, the former president of the United States, with a plastic bag on my hand, picking up that which I had been dodging for the past eight years.
The day after I left office, I started writing this book. Working on it has been a great opportunity for reflection, and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading these thoughts as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them.
When I chose to structure this book around major decision points, I knew it would mean leaving out some aspects of my presidency. I don’t fully cover foreign policy accomplishments such as the historic civil nuclear agreement with India or the Merida Initiative to fight drugs with Mexico. I devote just a few words to my record on energy and the environment, and I do not describe my decision to create the largest marine conservation areas in the world. I also omit an account of our successful efforts to improve services for veterans and reduce teen drug use and chronic homelessness. All these accomplishments are sources of pride, and I am grateful to those who helped make them possible.
Instead of covering every issue, I’ve tried to give the reader a sense of the most consequential decisions that reached my desk. As I hope I’ve made clear, I believe I got some of those decisions right, and I got some wrong. But on every one, I did what I believed was in the best interests of our country.
It’s too early to say how most of my decisions will turn out. As president, I had the honor of eulogizing Gerald Ford and Ronald Reagan. President Ford’s pardon of Richard Nixon, once regarded as one of the worst mistakes in presidential history, is now viewed as a selfless act of leadership. And it was quite something to hear the commentators who once denounced President Reagan as a dunce and a warmonger talk about how the Great Communicator had won the Cold War.
Decades from now, I hope people will view me as a president who recognized the central challenge of our time and kept my vow to keep the country safe; who pursued my convictions without wavering but changed course when necessary; who trusted individuals to make choices in their lives; and who used America’s influence to advance freedom. And I hope they will conclude that I upheld the honor and dignity of the office I was so privileged to hold.
Whatever the verdict on my presidency, I’m comfortable with the fact that I won’t be around to hear it. That’s a decision point only history will reach.
am fortunate to come from a family of bestselling authors. My mother and father wrote fine books, as did my sister Doro. Closer to home, Laura wrote a bestseller, Jenna wrote a bestseller, and they collaborated on another. Even my parents’ dogs, C. Fred and Millie, authored their own works.
I was inspired by my family members’ success and, more important, sustained by their love. I thank Laura for her constant love and for sharing in the experiences that made this book possible. I thank our daughters, Barbara and Jenna, for their hugs and laughter. I am glad to have Henry Hager as my son-in-law. I appreciate the unwavering support of Mother and Dad. And I thank Jeb, Neil, Marvin, and Doro for comforting their brother.
When I considered writing this book I knew the task would be a challenge. I did not realize how enjoyable it would be. The main reason is that I worked with Chris Michel. At the end of the administration Chris was my chief speechwriter. He knew how I talked and saw much of the history we made. His broad range of talents, from research to editing, has made the book project move smoothly. His upbeat personality was a constant joy. I will miss him as he heads off to Yale Law School.
This book took its first step toward publication when I hired Bob Barnett. Bob is a talented lawyer with sound judgment, unmatched experience, and great patience—which he showed by tolerating my frequent ribbing about his hourly rate. The truth is that Bob is the best in the business, and he was worth every penny.
I cannot imagine a better editor than Sean Desmond, a Harvard-educated son of Dallas, Texas. Sean knew where to add detail, when to cut words, and how to bring my decisions to life for the reader. He did it all with patience, professionalism, and a good sense of humor.
I am grateful to the superb team at Crown Publishing. Steve Rubin and Jenny Frost showed confidence in this project from the beginning. Maya Mavjee and Tina Constable capably saw it through to conclusion. I appreciate managing editor Amy Boorstein, copyeditor Jenna Dolan, creative director Whitney Cookman, editorial assistant Stephanie Chan, publicity director David Drake, production director Linnea Knollmueller, interior design director Elizabeth Rendfleisch, and the many others at Crown and Random House who helped make this book a reality.
Much of the research for this book was conducted by the brilliant and tireless Peter Rough. Peter spent the past eighteen months digging through archives, searching the Internet, and sifting through reams of paper. His insights and resourcefulness improved this book in countless ways. He also fact-checked every word of it, with assistance from four former members of my speechwriting staff: Staci Wheeler, Mike Robins, Mike Hasson, and Matt Larkin. Gabriel Gillett, Paul Langdale, Chris Papagianis, Sarah Catherine Perot, Kerrie Rushton, Sara Sendek, Josh Silverstein, and others added valuable research.