The Accidental President

Here in Grand Rapids, I live five minutes from the final resting place of President Ford. On my way to work each day, looking over the Grand River on Bridge Street, I see his Presidential Library, where his grave now lies. I don't think about President Ford very often at all, but in the past few days, he has been on the minds of every Grand Rapids citizen, especially so today, when he has come home to the place of his birth.

I had thought of waiting in line to see his casket lying in the museum, but the four hour wait in the middle of the morning was a bit daunting since I'm in the middle of a nasty cold. I spoke with a friend of mine today who did just that, like 57,000 other people in Grand Rapids, and he described to me how moving it was for him. It made me want to do try and witness some of the events that were happening just down the road, and somehow feel involved.

I drove around downtown, circling on the freeway surrounding the Presidential Library, witnessing thousands of people waiting to get a final glimpse of the Presidential motorcade. Streets were blocked off, roads barricaded, and people lined up for hours.

I came home, and decided to watch the funeral service on TV, since that was closed to the public. Jimmy Carter spoke, as well as Donald Rumsfeld and the former director of Ford's Presidential library. The ceremony was moving, and I found myself appreciating this man more than I ever have. I realize I don't know enough about him, but everyone spoke of his integrity and how he helped heal our nation on the heels of Watergate. It sounds like we all need to be grateful to him.

As I watched the motorcade move away from the church, and towards downtown, I decided to take a walk to the downtown overlook that's in my neighborhood. I wasn't the only one with this idea, but I managed to get a front row seat. The city looked spectacular for a January day in Michigan. The sky was clear, and it was a balmy 40 degrees. The skyline was alive with the light from the setting sun, and all of us waited in anticipation for the flyby that was to take place soon.

We first saw the smoke from the 21 gun salute downtown, and in the distance, the 21 plane flyby approached the final resting place of President Ford. A single jet flew, leading the way, with a formation of five jets behind. Behind them, another group of five, followed by two more formations of five. The final group approached downtown, and at the very moment they reached the spot over President Ford's grave, one lone plane flew straight into the heavens, its afterburners lighting up for us all to see. It was lit by the evening sun, glowing as it shot like an arrow through the sky, and then turning towards the West, out of sight. I get goosebumps just thinking about it. It's one of the most moving things I've ever witnessed, and I feel privileged to have been able to see it with my own eyes.

Ford has been called the accidental president, but it sounds to me that he was in the right place at the right time. In his eulogy, Rumsfeld made the comment that every new congressman looks in the mirror and sees a future president. Not so with Gerald Ford, a man who was thrust forward because he was known for his integrity. What we needed at that time, was someone who could restore integrity and nobility to the White House. It sounds like Gerald Ford was the man for the job, and I'm grateful.

May he rest in peace.

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air. . . .

Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

— John Gillespie Magee, Jr