I was especially appreciative to Edward Teller. To the best of my knowledge, I was the last person to interview Dr. Teller before he died. As I walked into his modest home in Palo Alto, California on July 15, 2003, and caught my first glance at him sitting horizontally in a reclining chair, I was shocked. This man of such renown and prestige was on his deathbed. I had hoped for fifteen minutes with Teller. After my first question, he paused and murmured: “We have no time.” I told him that was fine and I would go. I asked if he wanted me to get his nurse. He said yes. When I returned, he was ready to talk. We proceeded to talk for almost an hour and a half. He became increasingly alert. Still, he struggled greatly, and his words were often indiscernible.
I felt compelled to ask Teller a question I had not intended: If he didn’t mind, I asked, could he tell me about his spiritual views? Did he believe in God? The situation seemed to beg the question. He told me emphatically: “I strongly believe that I should not talk about things I don’t understand.” The scientist within came rushing forth: Teller said he did not have adequate “information” to make a determination about God’s existence. When I asked again later, when the matter presented itself naturally, he retreated to his earlier position: “You ask me about God, and I will say, ‘I don’t know.’ And if I don’t know, I won’t talk about it.” I smiled and told him I would not try again.
When I insisted (for his sake) that it was indeed time for me to go, he finally relented to let me leave. He bid me farewell by saying simply, “Go write a good book.” He managed to sign a copy of his memoirs for me, without ever getting up or lifting his head. I told him I would return the gesture by sending a signed copy of my book once it was published. As I knew, I would never get the chance: Shortly after I returned to Grove City, Edward Teller died on September 9, 2003 at the age of 95.
I believe I also may have done the final interview with a less-known but likewise significant individual named Gus Weiss, a Reagan NSC staff member whose story was so intriguing that snippets of it—though certainly not the entire story—made the front page of the Washington Post on February 27, 2004.
Other than Ronald Reagan himself, I interviewed every person that I wanted to speak to for this book. All were very cooperative and eager that this story be told. I remember that Professor Fred Greenstein, in his seminal work on Eisenhower, said that he had conversations with associates of all modern presidents since FDR, and that none were more unified than Eisenhower’s in admiration of their leader. I found the same with Reagan’s staff, especially those who knew him since the California days, men like Clark, Meese, and Weinberger.
In regard to research, I’m the only Reagan researcher who had access to the private collection of letters sent by Reagan to Mary Joan Roll-Seiffert, who in the 1940s was the president of the Pittsburgh chapter of Reagan’s Hollywood fan club. I was also told that I was among the first to read the Lorraine Wagner letter collection held by the Young America’s Foundation (YAF). The Wagner-Reagan collection of correspondence is rich, and reaches from the 1940s to the 1990s. Also with the help of YAF, and specifically Floyd Brown and Andrew Coffin, I was given full access to the bookshelves at the Reagan Ranch in the Santa Ynez Mountains of California. I was permitted to spend four hours pulling each book off the shelf and searching it for personal annotations from Reagan. I was able to document not only the types of books that Reagan read but also what he remarked upon and thought about these books as he read them—meaning, I read his marginalia. The subject matter in the books ranges from economic theory to treaty agreements with the USSR to biographies to westerns and cowboy novels.
Likewise, the documents at the Reagan Library were obviously very illuminating. In the summers of 2001, 2003, and 2005, I benefited from the diligence of archivists like Greg Cumming, Cate Sewall, and Ben Pezzillo, as well as Kirby Hanson, Holly Bauer, Duke Blackwood, and other Reagan Library staff—a solid group of people. I read a large number of documents only recently declassified. This book placed its heaviest emphasis on primary sources. All declassified NSDDs were carefully read. I tried to read every speech, letter, or Cold War–related document in the Presidential Handwriting File (PHF) at the Reagan Library. In each case, I ascertained Reagan’s exact input in each. The PHF is a file of every declassified document featuring any Reagan handwriting. From this, I was able to determine precisely Reagan’s input. I read literally thousands of letters to and from Reagan during his presidency (and long before then). The correspondence is as diverse as Soviet general secretaries like Yuri Andropov to men like Bob Hope, Richard Nixon, Malcolm Muggeridge, Billy Graham, and men and women from Everytown, America. I read the Memoranda of Conversations from Geneva, Reykjavik, and the other summits, most declassified only as recently as 2000–2001.
There were a number of Grove City College students who were especially helpful. Among my excellent researchers were John McCay, Jen Velencia, Hans Yehnert, Jeff Chidester, Betsy Christian, Allan Edwards, Leah Ayers, Jennifer Moyer, and Melissa Harvey. John vetted all of the publicly available Reagan Presidential Documents, which cover 10,000 pages of text. This is a massive, official record of every presidential statement. Any document that featured key words like “USSR,” “Communism,” “Poland,” “Brezhnev,” and so forth was flagged by John— before the collection was transferred online! Jen Velencia searched various newspaper archives for all pre- presidential references to Reagan from the 1940s to the 1970s; this was done for the New York Times, Washington Post, and Wall Street Journal, as well as a number of select California papers and conservative publications. Jennifer Moyer stepped up and dug out articles buried even deeper from the 1940s. Betsy Christian (with the help of Henry Johnston) read issues of
Melissa Harvey’s work was particularly impressive. She completed a comprehensive search of Reagan material from Soviet newspaper and media archives—a volume of incredible material that, to my knowledge, only I possess. Melissa flagged all Reagan references from the 1950s through 2000 in the archives of FBIS and the Current Digest of the Soviet Press. FBIS is the Foreign Broadcast Information Service, which on a daily basis has long translated all foreign media—print, TV, radio, etc.—and published it in the United States. Through FBIS, I obtained Soviet and Eastern bloc opinions on Reagan. I was able to peruse innumerable analyses of Reagan by the likes of
Also among Grove City College students, Elaine Rodemoyer meticulously incorporated my handwritten edits from many drafts. When she graduated, Rachel Bovard completed the final round. I’m very fortunate to teach at a college filled with extremely intelligent, honest, hard-working, unselfish, and reliable students. Likewise helpful was Grove City College’s splendid library staff, particularly Joyce Kebert.
I must also express appreciation for the spectacular research of Martin and Annelise Anderson and Kiron Skinner, who have uncovered thousands of Reagan handwritten documents, from letters and speeches to those eyeopening radio broadcasts. In so doing, they’ve produced a treasure trove for researchers like myself to ascertain the real Reagan. Their good work will live on for many years to come. All future Reagan scholars owe them.
Special appreciation goes to Marko Suprun, who brought to my attention the Chebrikov-Andropov letter on Ted Kennedy. Marko knows the horrors of Soviet Communism; his father survived the 1930s Ukrainian genocide. Herb Romerstein, the authority on the Venona papers and Soviet archives, first provided the document to Walter Zaryckyj, who turned it over to Marko for translation. They were all very gracious. Walter is correct in referring to Herb as a “national treasure.”
I should note here that at least a half-dozen independent sources, scholars with rich expertise and experience in working with the Soviet archives—all of whose names appear in this Acknowledgments section— carefully read the Chebrikov-Andropov letter and judged it authentic. None had any doubts. Richard Pipes, the Harvard professor of Sovietology, who has been a member of the Harvard faculty since 1950 (he is now professor emeritus), told me that he believes he had read the document before, probably in Moscow in 1992 when he was doing archive work on the Lenin papers. This was the period when the London Times reported on the document and on John Tunney’s travels to Moscow on behalf of certain U.S. senators. The Times featured a photograph of the upper left corner of the document, which listed the person to whom the letter was directed, plus some added information. Very careful, diligent research left no other conclusion than that the document is legitimate.
I also thank my agent, Leona Schecter, for her hard work and persistence, as well as her husband, Jerry, for his excellent advice. I cherish their friendship.
