I had a dream…
Last night I had a dream about Ronald Reagan. We were at a picnic – keep in mind this is a dream. I’m sitting at a picnic bench, eating or talking with friends and Mr. Reagan appeared, standing to my left. He looked kind of like this:
Maybe without the hat. That said, hold onto your hat. He smiled at me and said something – probably, ‘How are you doing, is the food good, isn’t it a great sunny day?’ etc, but it was preceded by a sound that made me start laughing.
I looked at Mr. Reagan. “Pardon me, sir, but did you just say something like Donald Duck?”
He did. He looked at me with an impish grin and a twinkle in his eye. Like him or not, Reagan had a great sense of humor. We both burst out laughing. That was the end of the dream, but the twinkle set off a very real memory.
It was 1980. I got a call from my editor (I was at Lerner Newspapers at the time), asking me if I’d like to shoot Reagan’s campaign. There was a photo op at a large senior center in Northlake, Il.
Hot diggity. Had to go somewhere and get fingerprinted by the FBI, SOP at the time. I was approved, got my passes and the day of, readied my photo equipment and was off to Northlake; a western suburb of Chicago, a little south of O’Hare.
The place was once a major hotel. It had been converted into a senior residence and for some reason, had a huge auditorium. It was packed. Lots of fans, canes, silver hair. I was 29 then, now I’m part of that crowd.
Press was in a good spot. I wound up only about 10-15 feet from the podium where Reagan spoke. I remember Cubs TV broadcaster Jack Brickhouse came out and revved up the crowd, which didn’t need to be any more keyed than they already were. “Hi Jack” most of the press corps said, with a wave. I had more fun hanging out with Harry Caray a few years later, but that’s another story.
Brickhouse first brought out Henry Hyde, former and then-current US House Rep from the 16th District, Illinois, who spoke fondly, of course, of Reagan. Then US Senator Chuck Percy came out to even more applause. I call him Chuck because I spent 45 minutes in his Wash. DC office with a few other students in 1973, lobbying for the National Student Education Bill. Not like going bowling but good enough.
And the main event. You had to have lived during that time. Probably as close to Beatlemania as I’ll ever see. Talcum powder was flying, 5-day Deodorant pads fell from armpits. Men stood up applauding, shouting, with creaseless plaid pants, white belts and white shoes.
It was a gala. Reagan tore the house down before he said a single word. I took this picture:
Not the greatest shot, but the paper ran it. Now I was probably closest to the podium, kneeling, separated by those plush ropes you see in movie theaters. A loose wall of security you might say, but I didn’t think any of the crowd could have leapt over them. The other two gentlemen left and Reagan, now in his element, took the stage.
You can youtube or google his speeches from that campaign but Reaganomania was catching on like a California wildfire. The enthusiasm was genuine – this from someone who grew up in a staunch DaleyDemocrat Chicago family. My folks voted for Reagan too, btw.
What I’m about to tell you actually happened. I was shooting with a flash unit (Graflite Strobe) big enough to deter a jumbo jet to Midway. It was much too strong to shoot so near the subject and couldn’t be dialed down. Photogs used slower film and small F-stops.
Reagan didn’t like the flash. Understandably, he wore contacts and his eyes were likely sensitive to a minor explosion going off before them. He gave me a look that had no twinkle. Being raised right – that’s all I can think of – I politely shut off the flash. I could’ve turned it around to the audience or bounced it, but I just opened up the lens and shot available light (photog talk). Reagan must have appreciated it.
He gave the crowd their money’s worth. When he was done speaking, he decided to shake hands. He was coming toward me. I was still on my knees but got up quickly (oh, to have those days back again). I kind of spun the camera gear behind my back and prepared to shake the future president’s hand.
He was right in front of me, hand outstretched. He took my hand. “Good luck on your run, Mr. Reagan.” I don’t know how many, if any, of those words got out, but I almost went airborne. We had made eye contact and for a split second, Reagan’s eyes widened.
Scary. Till I (and he) found out what it was. I landed to the future president’s right, in front of one of the Secret Service guys, who had a bit of a smile on their faces. I looked back and there was a short, stout, yes, little old lady who could’ve been a relative of Ditka’s or even Ditka on his knees, in drag. She had blindsided me. She grabbed the Gipper’s hand and I heard her coo, “Oh Ronnie, I just love you! I’ve seen all your films…” To her credit, she was probably a young girl, teenager, when Reagan was a movie star.
I gathered myself together – I didn’t think it was funny as the SS did – and got up, muttering to myself. Mr. Reagan turned his head ever-so-slightly in my direction and with a slight smile, glanced at me with a twinkle in his eye.