83: WIN ONE ON AIR FORCE ONE FOR THE GIPPER

When the alarm went off at 6:30am on Thursday August 2, 2018 in our Sands by the Sea motel room, I was anxious to hit the road. After all, it was ‘Ronald Reagan Day’ for my photographer and me. Not only would I get to see some artifacts worn and used by President Reagan, I also knew that I would be carried aboard Air Force One that had found a permanent home in the Gipper’s Presidential Museum. August 2nd was also special for the three of us. It was the date that most of the 56 men signed the Declaration of Independence in 1776, and it’s no secret that the signing of the Declaration meant a lot to my photographer and me. And for Tom’s wife, it was her late father’s birthday. During our 195-mile journey from San Simeon to Simi Valley, Vicki had a lot of time to reminisce about her dad. As we continued south along the Pacific Coast Highway, the view of the ocean wasn’t as spectacular as it was near Big Sur. Gone were the towering cliffs that overlooked the water; the elevation had been replaced by lowlands that butted up against the seashore. While it was still cool to see the Pacific Ocean, we had been spoiled by the “Wow Factor” of the previous day.

The ride took longer than anticipated as Vicki stopped at a few stores along the way in her never-ending quest to find some elusive Rae Dunn pottery. When my photographer’s wife parked the Mustang at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library and Museum, it was already fifteen minutes past one o’clock; which meant the library was likely our first and only site of the day. Once inside the museum, it didn’t take long for me to see more Presidential artifacts than what I saw at Bill Clinton and George W. Bush’s museums combined. While Reagan’s inaugural suit and Bible were cool, I was also taken into a replica of the Oval Office where I saw authentic items that were in that room when Ronald was President. The piece de resistance, however, was when I was carried into the Air Force One Pavilion where I saw the majestic Boeing 707 aircraft known as Air Force One. Also located in the pavilion was a Marine One helicopter used by Reagan, as well as his Presidential parade limousine.

As if that wasn’t enough, after spending two-and-a-half hours wandering around the exhibits inside the museum, I was taken outside to an area near the western portion of the library where I saw the Memorial Site that featured the graves of Ronald and Nancy Reagan. As I posed for pictures just outside of the three-foot tall metallic barricade, I realized that I had finally made it to my 32nd Presidential gravesite. It had been nearly one year since I had visited number 31, which was the final resting place of Andrew Johnson in Greeneville, Tennessee. The Reagan Memorial was a curved limestone wall that played backdrop to the Georgian gray granite tombstone that marked the President and First Lady’s final resting place. I could see a Reagan quote etched into the wall that read: “I know in my heart that man is good; that what is right will always triumph; and there is purpose and worth to each and every life.” Ronald Reagan died at the age of 93 from pneumonia, complicated by Alzheimer’s disease, at his home in the Bel Air district of Los Angeles on June 5, 2004. At the time of his death, Reagan was the longest lived President in U.S. history, having lived 93 years, 120 days.

As I was held over the railing for a series of photos, I had wondered if Tom would venture over the barricade to place me on the tombstone. Although it would’ve been awesome for me to stand on Reagan’s marker, I also understood my photographer’s apprehensions as there were other tourists nearby and the memorial was not very secluded. He knew that he was only a day away from meeting up with friends who lived south of Anaheim and Tom didn’t want to jeopardize that get-together by getting his butt thrown in jail for trespassing.

President Reagan once said, after he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s: “I now begin the journey that will lead me into the sunset of my life.” On that beautiful Thursday afternoon, at 4:15pm, I bid farewell to Ronald Reagan as I was carried off into the sunset. Okay, the sun was still fairly high in the sky, but it was time for my photographer and his wife to make the journey to find a motel for the night. Vicki found a Courtyard by Marriot that was reasonably priced, and it was located only four miles from Reagan’s Library. The location of the Courtyard was also advantageous as it was only 14 miles from the next day’s first stop – the youth baseball field used in the movie ‘The Bad News Bears’. After we checked-in, the three of us combed Simi Valley for pottery before Tom and Vic had dinner.

Back at the motel where I was once again placed next to the television set in our room, my thoughts quickly shifted from the gravesite of a 93-year-old President to the sacred burial place of a 17-year-old singer who was killed in a plane crash on February 3, 1959. I was excited beyond words as I thought about our next day’s planned visit to Pacoima where Ritchie Valens called home. “Now that you’re gone, I’m left all alone; All by myself, to wander and roam – Oh Ritchie, Oh Ritchie; where can you be?”