The Ronald Reagan Centennial (UPDATED)

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Here a selection of pieces published on the occasion of Reagan’s centennial. Feel free to add links to other tributes in the comments.

Click the link below for the tributes written by our contributors:

  • A Leader like few others by George Moneo
  • Guayaberas Blancas by Val Prieto
  • Ronnie Reagan: A Legacy of Love and Devotion by Maggie (DrillANWR)
  • Spoiled by Alberto de la Cruz
  • A Gift by Ziva Sahl
  • Idealist AND Ideologue by Henry Gomez
  • A Slobbering Love Affair — Cuban Americans and Ronald Reagan by Humberto Fontova

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A Leader like few others
by George Moneo

In my musings I often use the phrase, “the greatest President of my lifetime” when speaking of Ronald Wilson Reagan, 40th President of the United States. It’s not meant as hyperbole in the least; it is a rare thing to be inspired by a great leader. I know what it must have been like for those men and women who heard Jefferson, Washington, Madison, Lincoln, Churchill, Patton. For eight years — plus four if you start the countdown clock in 1976 at the RNC Convention — Reagan was an inspiration to me an so many others. He was a leader with a capital “L”.  He pushed us to be great, to be everything the promise of America had to give us. He didn’t need little buttons with pithy slogans on them; he didn’t put on airs and talk to us in sweaters; he didn’t have to bite his lip to pretend to show empathy; he didn’t need logos. He spoke directly to us, the American people. He was always telling us that the greatness of our country was us, not the government. And we responded with two landslide victories at the polls.

He was a man of principles, yet pragmatic when he had to be. But he never wavered on his core beliefs. He said what he meant when he reformed our tax code; when he called the Soviet Union “an evil empire”; when he fired the PATCO strikers; when he invaded Grenada; when he asked Gorbachev to “tear down the wall”; when he proceeded with the Strategic Defense Initiative despite the hysterical, cowardly baying of the left; when he walked out of an arms treaty negotiation with Mikael Gorbachev to the dismay of the still-baying liberal intelligentsia and media; when he unapologetically helped and supported anti-communists all over the world; when he proselytized Constitutionalism as a goal of his administration. That is leadership. He didn’t need a push poll to know what the American people wanted. He knew us because he was one of us.

Reagan wasn’t perfect. I wish a variety of international issues had been handled differently. He didn’t deal with Iran after the Marine Corps barrack suicide bombing of 1983; this act of war (among so many, many others) was linked to Iran through its proxies in Lebanon. Reagan should have taken decisive and devastating action against this infectious pustule that threatens the West to this day with its Islamic fascist Jihad. The Iran-Contra scandal, an outgrowth of the very same weak middle-east foreign policy that was woefully unaware of the nature of the enemy we faced (and still face), was an unnecessary detour and distraction, and has unnecessarily sullied his reputation. He didn’t do enough to dislodge the beast ninety miles away. On the domestic front, Reagan did not forcefully put a stop to the rapid explosion of Federal “departments” that have taken over traditional state and local activities.

It is a badge of honor that in his day Ronald Reagan was reviled, insulted, libeled and slandered by the left, belching out a wicked hatred for the man that, in recent memory, has been enthusiastically reserved only for George W. Bush and Sarah Palin. It speaks volumes that the left has to use the adjective “Reaganesque” to describe their woefully inadequate “leaders,” while at the same time lying about who Reagan was to get a twisted and perverted message across.

We will continue to tell the truth about this great man to those who will listen. His leadership, his optimism, his humility, is sorely missed. For giving me the privilege to experience first-hand what greatness in a leader is, I am eternally grateful. Thank you President Reagan, and God bless you.

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Guayaberas Blancas
By Val Prieto

I was going to my grandparents house as I did everyday during high school to take them their hot off the press copy of El Diario de las Americas, the newspaper I delivered back then. I remember there being way too much traffic around their house. Some streets were cordoned off and there were motorcycle cops everywhere. There were alot of cars moving through the usually quiet street of their apartment building. I wasn’t sure what was going on.

I pulled into my parking space at their building – it was the one parking space for their apartment but abuelo wouldn’t let anyone else park there, family or not, if he was expecting me. It was my space. I picked up their copy of the paper and knocked on the door. My grandfather’s voice came through with his usual “Who is it, you or your brother?” A quick “My brother” from me would always get me in the door.

As usual my cafe was ready for me on the kitchen table. I handed my grandfather his sports section and abuela here society page, sat down at the table and relaxed for a minute. I drank my cafecito.

“There’s alot of traffic out there today” I remember saying. “Must be an accident or something. The streets are all closed.”

“Bah! It’s the President’s visit. Pero que te pasa a ti muchacho?” My grandfather looked at me almost stunned that I had no idea the President of the United States was going to be less than two blocks from his apartment. I had completely forgotten even though it was the front page headline of the very newspaper I’d been delivering.

Of course I felt like an idiot. Abuelo had been watching the mortorcade when I had arrived.

I dont remember who’s idea it was, but the next thing I know my grandfather is splashing on his English Leather and donning his white long sleeve Guayabera. We were going to see the President.

We walked the two or so blocks from his apartment to La Esquina de Tejas, the restaurant where President Reagan was to visit. I don’t remember exactly what my grandfather and I talked about on that walk but I’m sure Abuelo tossed a few tidbits of knowledge my way as he always did.

The restaurant was a well known place for us. It was across the street from the clinic where as a boy I had to go for my daily shots to battle anemia. It was my grandfather who’d walk me there, teaching me about baseball or talking about our family or telling me jokes. After the shot we’d cross the street, he would order his cortadito from the cafeteria window of the restaurant. He’d always buy me a pack of gum or the violet candies I used to like. The very same restaurant where the President would be eating was ours in a way. We had a history there.

The day President Reagan went to La Esquina de Tejas, the day where he later said “Cuba si, Castro no” in a speech, that very day was one where I would take one of my last walks with my grandfather.

We stood in the parking lot across the other street from the restaurant and waited for the President. There were alot of people there. Abuelo stood there calmly, smelling like a gentleman and wearing his finely pressed white long sleeve guayabera. He held his paragua – umbrella – open above him to block the sun while I clamored about the crowd in search of a better view. When the President’s motorcade arrived Abuelo and I looked at each other as if to say He’s here, are you paying attention? with our eyes.

A few minutes later out from the limo came President Ronald Reagan, the most powerful man in the world and leader of the free world. He turned and waved at the crowd, at us, and we cheered. Abuelo just stood there as before, a smile beaming from his face.

There at our little corner, at the little cafeteria where Abuelo had consoled me every day for a year after my shots, at the very same little spot where we would ultimately end our day no matter where we had traveled, there stood the President of the United States in a white, long sleeve, finely pressed guayabera.

I wonder if he, too, smelled of English Leather.

(Published here, back in 2004.)

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Ronnie Reagan: A Legacy of Love and Devotion
by Maggie (DrillANWR).

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I figured everyone would be climbing the monolith Ronald W. Reagan today. And I’m in just as much awe as everyone else over the legacy of Ronaldus Maximus the politician, the diplomat, the speechifier, the world leader, the Soviet crusher. But I also like to remember Reagan as “Ronnie”.

In an age of text messaging and social networking in limited characters I think we’ve lost that fine art of communicating with pen and paper, heart and soul. Above me on my desk I have a small square sticky note my husband left for me one morning. I glance up at it throughout the busy day and smile (and no, I won’t tell you what it says). A few years ago some of the many letters Ronald Reagan wrote to his beloved wife Nancy Reagan were published in a book. It was a side of the man we really never even considered amid all his staunch resolve and rugged stature. But it was there … a legacy of love for her:

My Darling Wife

This note is to warn you of a diabolical plot entered into by some of our so called friends – (ha!) calendar makers and even our own children. These and others would have you believe we’ve been married 20 years.

20 minutes maybe – but never 20 years. In the first place it is a known fact that a human cannot sustain the high level of happiness I feel for more than a few minutes – and my happiness keeps increasing.

I will confess to one puzzlement but I’m sure it is just some trick perpetrated by our friends – (Ha again!) I can’t remember ever being without you and I know I was born more than 20 mins ago.

Oh well – that isn’t important. The important thing is I don’t want to be without you for the next 20 years, or 40, or however many there are. I’ve gotten very used to being happy and I love you very much indeed.

Your Husband of 20 something or other.

We all know the mental isolation President Reagan spent the last part of his life in. And we know his wife Nancy was forever devoted to being beside him to the lonely end. I imagine, in those long hours of fog and clouds she spent with Ronnie, Nancy treasured as priceless those pages and pages of her husband’s thoughts, words, emotion, and silliness. It’s as if he had been prescient, knowing he would need them to communicate to her everyday how much she had meant to him in this life, and continued to. Even then he was able to romance the woman, just as he continues to inspire us today. It is a legacy of love, loyalty and devotion, even during the worst of times, we can all learn from both Ronnie and Nancy Reagan.

* * *

Spoiled
by Alberto de la Cruz

Ronald Wilson Reagan was elected President of the United States right around the time I entered high school and had become politically aware. Before then, the only political conversations I had participated in consisted of making fun of the toothy little peanut farmer with the perpetual stupid look on his face that occupied the White House. Ronald Reagan brought about my political awakening, and gave me a gift few Americans throughout history can boast about; living in America during one of the greatest presidencies of all time.

As an impressionable teenager, Reagan showed me what it meant to be an American. He gave me the same hope and inspiration that founded this great country, and he made me proud to have been born here. It was his patriotism and love for America that reached out to every citizen, and no matter how pernicious the attacks against him, they felt comforted by the fact that they knew their president would do whatever was necessary to protect our country and our way of life.

In a way, spending eight of my early years with Reagan as president spoiled me for the rest of my life. No president since him has ever come remotely close to this greatness, and I am afraid to say that it may be decades before another one comes along. Nevertheless, I am happy and proud to be able to tell my children and my future grandchildren that I lived in this great country when it was under the leadership of one of the greatest presidents of all time.

Few Americans can say that, and I thank the good Lord I am one of those Americans.

* * *

A Gift
by Ziva Sahl

Like many baby boomers, the president of my childhood was Eisenhower. He quietly guided our great nation through a time of unprecedented prosperity, optimism; and security; at least that was my perception. I grew up as a proud patriotic American, with an unfailing belief in America’s manifest destiny.

That nationalistic self-assurance ended on November 22, 1963, and with finality six weeks later when my Father suddenly passed away.

In retrospect, it seems overnight, all was gone. Prosperity was replaced by struggle; optimism was replaced by an introspective confusion fashioned by the chaos of social change. The 1960s, celebrated by the MSM as a decade of joyful, youthful rebellion, was in fact an era of frightening violence and upheaval perpetuated by radicals that ended civility in our country — I hated it.

The 1960s dissolved into the 1970s with further decline. Newly married, I was happily immersed in the joys of domestic life and other than writing a letter of support to President Nixon after his 1970 Cambodia speech, didn’t pay much attention to politics.

Years went by, Ford, Carter, well, I did take notice of Carter, as his blatant bungling, and insipid self-righteousness, had me reaching for the remote whenever he appeared on television.

As a native Californian, I always liked Ronald Reagan; he often appeared on Los Angeles television, and hosted one of my favorite shows, Death Valley Days. Even so, in 1980, I was confused and shocked when my mother, a lifelong democrat proudly voted for him. I was even more surprised when she continued that support into his second term; not since her misguided support of JFK had she been so excited about a politician. That confusion ended on a busy day, June 12, 1987. I was at home working, ignoring the audio coming from the TV in the other room, until I heard these words:

In the 1950s Khrushchev predicted: “We will bury you.” But in the West today, we see a free world that has achieved a level of prosperity and well-being unprecedented in all human history. In the Communist world, we see failure, technological backwardness, declining standards of health; even want of the most basic kind — too little food. Even today, the Soviet Union still cannot feed itself. After these four decades, then, there stands before the entire world one great and inescapable conclusion: Freedom leads to prosperity. Freedom replaces the ancient hatreds among the nations with comity and peace. Freedom is the victor.

Wow, what a reminder of whom we are and what we stand for. It was sucker punch, striking at my core, and rekindling patriotism left unstirred since those dark days of grief nearly a quarter century earlier. By the end of the speech, ending with the famous, “Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate. Mr. Gorbachev — Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall,” I was in tears…what a gift President Reagan gave to us all, the purpose of being American.

Only the greatest of leaders are able to beneficently inspire a nation with words that resonant individually. How blessed we are to have had the leadership of President Ronald Reagan, the father of modern conservatism. His legacy is our nation’s hope for redemption.

* * *

Idealist AND Ideologue
by Henry Gomez

Almost exactly three years ago I created this video and posted to YouTube.

It was in response to the groundswell of support for Barack Obama that included celebrities making songs from his speeches. I was taken aback by how people became so captivated by Obama’s rhetoric though it seemed obvious to me that it was empty and deceitful. Here’s what I wrote at the time:

It takes more than a pretty video and a bunch of celebrities singing to make a great president. It takes a person who understands where the true greatness of America lies.

Long before anyone ever heard of Barack Obama, Ronald Reagan challenged Americans to hope, to dream, to believe….

In themselves.

He brought change. He told us “yes we can”. Except he also told us we didn’t need government to do it. He inspired us with his words and his actions. He showed us that our individual liberty and creativity is what makes our country great not any government program.

Today, Americans are wowed by the empty oratory of politicians who promise nothing but failed socialism in disguise. Even the presumptive Republican nominee cloaks himself in the mantle of Reagan but has shown that he doesn’t understand Reagan’s philosophy.

Reagan was an idealist AND an ideologue. His policies were based in his rock solid conservative ideology. That doesn’t mean he never compromised. But compromise is something different than standing on the same side of an issue with those who are supposed to be your political adversaries.

John McCain is no Ronald Reagan.

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A Slobbering Love Affair — Cuban Americans and Ronald Reagan
by Humberto Fontova

Cuban-Americans gave Ronald Reagan 90 per cent of their vote. No other American ethnic group approached this level of devotion. Even “southern whites,” America’s most reliably Republican voting bloc, fell short of this “Hispanic” group’s support for The Gipper. A visit to Miami’s Cuban Memorial Cemetery might help explain the phenomenon.

You’ll often find people with itchy noses and red-rimmed eyes ambling amidst these long rows of white crosses. It’s a mini-Arlington cemetery of sorts, in honor of Castro and Che’s murder victims and those who—utterly without allies—fought and fell trying to free Cuba from these proxies for an Evil Empire. Twenty-five years later President Ronald Reagan would insure that any such fighters in Central America had an ally in the U.S. Worse still (in liberal eyes) he unashamedly defended the Nicaraguan Contras as “freedom-fighters.” The tombs and crosses in the Cuban Memorial are mostly symbolic. Most of the bodies still lie in mass graves dug by bulldozers on the orders of a man Democratic presidential candidate George McGovern called, “very shy and sensitive, a man I regard as a friend.”

Never heard of this Cuban Memorial in the mainstream media? Well, it honors the tens of thousands of Fidel Castro’s and Che Guevara’s victims. Need I say more about the media blackout?…I didn’t think so.

Some of these Cuban Memorial visitors will be kneeling, others walking slowly, looking for a name. You remember a similar scene from the opening frames of “Saving Private Ryan.” Many clutch rosaries. Many of the ladies will be pressing their faces into the breast of a relative who drove them there, a relative who wraps his arms around her spastically heaving shoulders.

Try as he might not to cry himself, he usually finds that the sobs wracking his mother, grandmother or aunt are contagious. Yet he’s often too young to remember the young face of his martyred father, grandfather, uncle, cousin –or even aunt, mother grandmother– the name they just recognized on the white cross.

“Fusilado” (firing squad execution) it says below the name– one word, but for most visitors one loaded with traumatizing flashbacks.

On Christmas Eve 1961, Juana Diaz spat in the face of the Castroite executioners who were binding and gagging her. They’d found her guilty of feeding and hiding “bandits.” (Che’s term for Cuban peasants who took up arms to fight his theft of their land to create Stalinist kolkhozes.) Farm collectivization was no more voluntary in Cuba than in the Ukraine. And Cuba’s Kulaks had guns—at first anyway. Then the Kennedy-Khrushchev pact left them defenseless against Soviet tanks, helicopters and flame-throwers. When the blast from Castro’s firing squad demolished Juana Diaz’ face and torso, she was six months pregnant.

In Aug. 7, 1961, Lydia Perez was eight months pregnant and a political prisoner of the man Andrea Mitchell describes as, “old-fashioned, courtly–even paternal, a thoroughly fascinating figure!” Lydia somehow annoyed a guard who bashed her to the ground, kicked her in the stomach, and walked off. Both Lydia and her baby were left to bleed to death.

Rigoberto Hernandez was 17 when Che Guevara’s soldiers dragged him from his jail cell, jerked his head back to gag him and started dragging him to the stake. Little “Rigo” pleaded his innocence to the very bloody end. But his pleas were garbled and difficult to understand. His struggles while being gagged and bound to the stake were also awkward. The boy had been a janitor in a Havana high school and was mentally retarded. His single mother had pleaded his case with hysterical sobs. She had begged, beseeched and finally proven to his “prosecutors” that it was a case of mistaken identity. Her only son, a boy in such a condition, couldn’t possibly have been “a CIA agent planting bombs.”

“Fuego!” and the firing squad volley riddled Rigo’s little bent body as he moaned and struggled awkwardly against his bounds, blindfold and gag.

“Judicial evidence is an archaic bourgeois detail!” sneered Che Guevara.

Carlos Machado was 15 years old in 1963 when the bullets from the firing squad shattered his body. His twin brother and father collapsed beside Carlos from the same volley. All had resisted Castro and Che’s theft of their humble family farm.

According to the scholars and researchers at the Cuba Archive, the Castro regime’s total death toll—from torture, prison beatings, firing squads, machine gunning of escapees, drownings, etc.—approaches 100,000. Cuba’s population in 1960 was 6.4 million. According to the human rights group Freedom House, 500,000 Cubans (young and old, male and female) have passed through Castro’s prison and forced-labor camps. This puts Castro and Che’s political incarceration rate right up there with their hero Stalin’s.

Resulting omelet?

The Castro brothers and Che Guevara converted a nation with a higher per capita income than half the nations of Europe, the lowest inflation rate in the Western hemisphere, a larger middle class than Switzerland, a huge influx of immigrants and the 13th lowest infant-mortality in the world, into one that repels Haitians.

Having lived it, to Americans of Cuban heritage Communism means—not free healthcare, not universal education, not overzealous social workers and community organizers—but pure Evil.

Ronald Reagan understood.

Had Ronald Reagan been U.S. President in 1960, no Cuban Memorial would be needed in south Florida today. And some obscure and long-dead Latin criminals named Fidel Castro and Che Guevara would merit less textbook space than Pancho Villa.

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2 thoughts on “The Ronald Reagan Centennial (UPDATED)”

  1. But, unless you want to become ill, avoid the magazine section’s article of Sunday’s NYTimes about Reagan since it is full of misinformation.

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