In one of his most satisfying personal achievements, he issued an executive order establishing a program to recognize and encourage volunteer organizations. Adopting a line from his inaugural address, he called the initiative Points of Light. Every day, the White House recognized a volunteer who had done something to improve his or her community with a Daily Point of Light Award. By the end of the Bush administra
Like Presidents before him, Dad also had an opportunity to influence the third branch of government, the judiciary. He replaced Supreme Court Justices William Brennan and Thurgood Marshall, two of the most liberal Justices of the twentieth century, with David Souter and Clarence Thomas. Souter, a former New Hampshire Supreme Court Justice recommended by John Sununu and Senator Warren Rudman, unexpectedly turned out to be almost as liberal as Brennan and Marshall. Clarence Thomas, an African-American who had grown up in rural poverty in Pin Point, Georgia, before working his way through Holy Cross College and Yale Law School, emerged as one of the most consistent and principled Justices of the Supreme Court.
To join the Court, Justice Thomas endured one of the most unfair confirmation proceedings in the history of the Senate. The focus of the hearings quickly turned away from his legal qualifications and judicial opinions to vicious personal smears. Democrats in the Senate called a parade of witnesses to impugn the nominee’s character with lurid details about alleged sexual harassment—a shameful display that Clarence Thomas rightly described as a “high-tech lynching.” During the hearing, the pressure to withdraw the nomination was enormous. I knew George Bush would never abandon a good man like Clarence Thomas. I remember talking to him after watching the coverage of the hearings on TV.
“This Thomas stuff is getting pretty nasty,” I said.
“You know what, son,” he said, “the worse they treat him, the more determined I am to get him confirmed.”
Dad meant what he said. After a lot of lobbying and hard work, the Senate confirmed Justice Thomas fifty-two to forty-eight, with eleven Democrats voting in his favor.
Watching my father’s experience with Supreme Court nominations proved beneficial when I had the opportunity to appoint new Justices. I learned that it is essential for a President to fully vet nominees. Early in my presidency, I directed my counsel’s office to research potential Supreme Court nominees. When Justice Sandra Day O’Connor announced her resignation in 2005, I invited five jurists for one-on-one interviews at the White House Residence. I had reviewed their judicial philosophies; what I really wanted to learn was their character and whether their philosophy would change with time. While all the candidates were outstanding, I was especially impressed by Judge John Roberts, a generous and humble man who had argued dozens of cases before the Supreme Court and was widely considered one of the best lawyers of his generation. I first nominated John for Justice O’Connor’s seat and later resubmitted his nomination for Chief Justice Rehnquist’s seat after the Chief Justice died. For Justice O’Connor’s seat, I chose Sam Alito, a soft-spoken and brilliant judge whose love of the law was matched only by his passion for the Philadelphia Phillies. Both men have done me proud during their time on the Court.
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DURING DAD’S FIRST term, most people assumed that he would run for reelection. He loved the job, and he was excelling at it. Yet the decision was not automatic. His primary concern was the impact that another campaign would have on our family. One reason was my brother Neil. Neil had served on the board of directors of the Silverado Banking Savings and Loan. Like hundreds of other savings and loan associations, Silverado had overextended its lending, become insolvent when interest rates increased, and required federal taxpayer money to repay depositors. The media and Dad’s political adversaries depicted Neil as the “poster boy” for the savings and loan crisis. He appeared before a congressional committee to answer hostile questions. The Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation opened an investigation and eventually filed civil charges (which were later settled out of court).
Dad was crushed. He ached for his middle son. As he later wrote, it killed him to see Neil singled out because he was the President’s son. George Bush was willing to take all the heat that came with being President. But when his job affected his children, that was a different story. One day when he and I were fishing in Maine, he told me out of the blue, “Son, I’m thinking about not running again.”
“Why, Dad?” I asked.
“Because of what Neil is going through,” he said.
“I know it’s tough,” I said, “but you’ve still got work to do and the country needs you.”
He didn’t answer. It was clear that he was seriously considering giving it all up to ease the pain on his son.
I got a taste of Neil’s struggles one day at the gym in Dallas. I overheard somebody say, “There’s the President’s son—he’s about to get indicted.” I was hot. I walked over to the guy and blurted, “I’m not about to get indicted, and neither is my brother, and I’d appreciate it if you’d get your facts right instead of spreading gossip.” The stranger was taken aback. He stammered an apology. My personal encounter with the Silverado crisis was fleeting. For Neil, it felt like it lasted for an eternity.
I remembered Neil’s experience years later when I was deciding whether to run for President. I was very reluctant to expose my family, especially our daughters, to the kind of treatment that Neil had received. Ultimately, like Dad, I decided that our family was strong enough to endure the scrutiny. The presidency attracts a spotlight, and one of the toughest things for any President is to watch that spotlight shine harshly on the people you love.
Dad had another reason for hesitating to run for reelection: his health. In 1989, Mother had been diagnosed with Graves’ disease, a thyroid condition that can cause weight loss and serious eye problems. Two years later, Dad started experiencing an irregular heartbeat and exhaustion. When Laura and I came for a state dinner with the Queen of England in May 1991, I was shocked to see Dad looking so tired and worn. He never complained, but I could tell that he was suffering. It was the first time in my life that my father had ever looked old. Strangely, doctors concluded that he also had Graves’ disease. They did their best to treat the illness, but it took time for him to adjust to the medication. It seemed like he never had quite the same energy level again. That was a serious problem for someone serving as President and running for reelection. Yet George Bush was a competitor. As he had explained in his 1988 convention speech, he saw the presidency as a mission—and he was determined to complete it.
Around the summer of 1991, I started to worry about the reelection campaign. The American people were focused on the economy. And in the middle of a recession, that was not a good issue for the sitting President—
In addition to the economy, I worried about the political mood of the country. Between his eight years as Vice President and four years as President, George Bush had been in the public spotlight for a long time. The American people would naturally be looking for a fresh face. The demographics of America were shifting. As baby boomers in their thirties and forties became more politically active, leaders from the World War II generation started to seem increasingly out-of-date. Even among Bush supporters, the energy level and enthusiasm was not nearly as high as it had been in 1988.