We get our
Since July is my custody month with the kids, I pretty much had my hands full planning the fireworks display and just trying to be a father. Besides, the whole thing had such a fairy-tale aspect that I never imagined anyone I knew could possibly have been associated with it.
I certainly never dreamed that one of the two officers killed was my friend Jason Gilbert. He obviously wasn’t famous enough for any of the networks to mention him by name. But when the army released his picture, it was printed in the
My first reaction was disbelief. Not Jason, I thought. Nothing could happen to him. If for no other reason than because he was basically so good.
I needed time to pull myself together before facing the kids. So I told them to go to the village for lunch. I took a boat and rowed out to the middle of the lake.
When I got about as far away from shore as I could, I pulled in the oars and just floated. I tried to make myself confront the truth of what I’d just learned.
And what hit me hardest was how damn unfair it was. Because if there’s an Almighty before whom you have to justify your existence on this earth, Jason had the greatest reason for living of anyone I ever knew.
I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. So I just sat there and tried to make Sense of things, wondering what Jason would want me to do.
When I finally rowed back, I called his parents on Long Island. The housekeeper said that they had left for Israel on the previous night’s plane. To attend the funeral. Then I thought maybe I should go too. But when I asked, she told me that it had been scheduled for today. Apparently it’s Jewish tradition to have the burial very quickly. So as I was prattling mindlessly on the phone, they were probably lowering him into the ground. I thanked the lady and hung up.
When the kids got back in the early afternoon, I sat Andy and Lizzie down on the porch and tried to tell them about my old buddy. I guess they already knew him by name because everybody from Harvard remembers Jason as the great jock. And whenever two guys in The Class got to reminiscing, his name always came up. They listened patiently while I told them about my friend’s heroism, but I could see it was no more real to them than a John Wayne film.
I tried to make them understand that he had sacrificed himself for a cause. They still remained fairly impassive.
I also explained that it was that way in this country too before Vietnam. People went to fight to defend their principles. And then I tried to bring it closer to home by saying that was why our own ancestors fought the British in 1776.
Andy doesn’t like it when I mention this sort of thing. In fact, he was pretty unreceptive to my whole sermon.
He told me that I was incapable of getting into my head that the world has got to outgrow war. That
Okay, I wasn’t going to press the point. I figured it was just a stage he was going through. What the hell does a spoiled teenager know about principles anyway?
Even Lizzie was getting a little impatient. So I concluded our talk by saying I had to go into town and buy some more fireworks.
This suddenly awakened Andy’s interest. He asked if we were making July Fourth a two-day holiday.
I replied that this was something special.
We were going to set off some flares tonight in memory of Jason Gilbert.
George Keller spent his first month as the President’s Special Advisor for National Security Affairs almost literally up in the air. He accompanied President Ford and Secretary Kissinger (with a gaggle of reporters) on voyages to Peking, Indonesia, and the Philippines. Cathy, of course, understood that these were not the sort of trips you could take your wife on. So she busied herself working in the ERA campaign headquarters and debachelorizing George’s townhouse.
As soon as he returned, Kissinger swooped him up again into an air-force jet heading for Russia to make a last-ditch effort at saving the SALT negotiations.
In their absence, the congressional attacks on Kissinger escalated. Ever sensitive to public criticism, the Secretary of State was in despair. One day George overheard Henry talking to Washington on the secure American Embassy phone in Moscow.
“Mr. President, with due respect, if I have so drastically lost the confidence of my countrymen, then I am prepared to tender my resignation.”
George sat with bated breath, wondering how Gerald Ford was reacting to Henry’s latest histrionic offer to step down. Someday, he thought, they’re going to call his bluff and he’ll be out. And somebody else will be Secretary of State.
Maybe me.
From February on, Washington began to focus increasingly on domestic affairs. For Gerald Ford this meant currying public favor for the upcoming election in November while holding off the threat from Ronald Reagan to usurp the Republican nomination.
George Keller’s problem was even more literally domestic. Cathy wanted to start a family. While he argued that they had plenty of time, she countered with a reminder that she wasn’t getting any younger.
“Don’t you have the urge to be a father?” she coaxed.
“I’d be a lousy one. I’m much too selfish to give a kid the time.”
“Aha then you’ve actually thought about it.”
“Yes, a bit.”
In fact, he had thought about it more than just a little. From the moment they were married he had been aware that Cathy aspired to motherhood.
All their friends had children. Even Andrew Eliot, who had jokingly remarked, “You ought to try it, Keller. I mean, if I can do it anyone can.”
Yet, something visceral in him recoiled at the prospect. Cathy sensed his misgivings and wanted to believe that they were caused by his own abrasive relationship with his father. So she tried to reassure him that, if anything, he would overcompensate to his child.
To some extent she was right. But that was only part of it. Deep within him was an avenging fury warning that he was too guilty to deserve to be a parent.
Kissinger and George were sitting in the wings during the second debate between President Ford and his Democratic opponent, Jimmy Carter, on October 6, 1976.
They winced when Ford fumbled with the ill-considered statement that Eastern Europe was “not under Soviet domination.”
At this point Henry leaned over and whispered sarcastically, “Nice briefing job you did, Dr. Keller.”
George shook his head. The moment the debate ended he asked Kissinger, “What do you think?”
The Secretary of State replied, “I think that unless there’s an immediate revolution in Poland, we’re all out of a job.”
Kissinger was right. On Election Day, the voters of America sent Jimmy Carter to the White House and Gerald Ford to the golf courses of Palm Springs. Washington would now be a Democratic town — at least for the next four years. And those closely allied with the Republican cause like George Keller had no place in it. Ironically,
