I am so delighted and honored that Doro asked me to write the foreword for My Father, My President. This is a very important book. It is her story about her father—it’s our story, a story of laughter and tears, births and deaths, friends and family. It is a love story, written by the daughter of one of the kindest and most decent men in the world, who also happened to become the forty-first president of the United States—my husband, George H. W. Bush.
Doro Bush Koch is the best-kept secret in America. Not very many people know that George and I have a daughter. We hear a lot about the men in our family, but not enough about the women. While George’s father, Prescott Bush, certainly was his role model in many ways, some of the greatest influences in George’s life have been the women in our family—his mother, his wife, his daughter, his daughters-in-law, and his granddaughters. Not to mention all the talented women who have worked with him over the years. There’s a reason why George Bush asked Doro to write this book. I am thrilled that people will now know George Bush through the eyes of a wonderful woman.
Although I’ve been told I am the first woman since Abigail Adams to be both a wife and a mother to a president, Doro is the only woman ever in our nation’s history to live to see both her father and her brother become president. (Abigail Adams’s daughters, named Abigail and Susanna, did not live long enough to see their brother become president.) There is only one woman in American history who could have written My Father, My President, and that woman is Doro.
She’s written her own narrative about her father’s life, which spans all the major events of the second half of the twentieth century and beyond—from World War II and the Cold War to Desert Storm and Hurricane Katrina. You’ll see George Bush the elder statesman and diplomat, but you’ll also meet George Bush the businessman, the adventurer, the sportsman, and the funniest man I know. Most important, you’ll see him as father and grandfather, working hard to raise our family despite the glare of the media and the rush of events.
Our life with Doro began in the 1950s. George and I were living in Texas and had four beautiful, wild sons; we would have taken a fifth with joy, but in our hearts we were longing for another daughter. Our second child, Robin, had died of leukemia in 1953. Robin was named after my mother, Pauline Robinson Pierce, who had died in a terrible car accident that nearly killed my father as well, only weeks before Robin was born. It was a very sad time in our lives. Even in our pain, we knew that we wanted another girl in our family. George especially did.
In August 1959 my Aunt Charlotte Pierce came to Houston to help with the boys, and I went into Memorial Hospital and had a beautiful healthy little girl. We named her Dorothy Walker Bush after George’s wonderful mother. The name Dorothy means “gift from God,” and Doro was—and is—just that.
My Aunt Charlotte came into my hospital room and told me that when the nurse held up Doro at the window of the nursery, George put his head against the glass and tears flowed down his face. I know sons are supposed to be for their dads . . . and girls for their moms. That may well be true, but my heart fills with love when I think of the joy all six of our children brought us each in their own way. Every dad should have a daughter as loving, thoughtful, and sensitive as ours—and, I should add, as funny.
Doro was at college and wanted to help her dad when he first ran for president in 1979, so it was her idea to leave school and work in the campaign office. George told her that she honestly could not go to the office and sit around as the candidate’s daughter. To our great surprise, Doro left Boston College (which she returned to after the election was over) and enrolled in a nine-month secretarial course that went right through the hot summer. She said that she would work her heart out for her dad. That meant a lot to us.
I remember her wearing stockings, a skirt, and a neat blouse all that hot summer while I spent much of the summer in and out of lovely cool Maine. I know she worked hard, like she said she would. To this day, she’d do anything in the world for her dad—including writing this book.
There is a very special relationship between Doro and her dad, and I hope between Doro and her mom. I love and adore our boys, but they don’t always understand like Doro does. Doro has a way of looking at the world like no one else in our family—sweet, empathetic, and seeing the humor in it all. Her brothers don’t just want to have her around, they need to have her in their lives.
Doro started this project by borrowing our Christmas card list and writing to everyone on it, asking for stories about George. It snowballed from there, because the response was overwhelming: hundreds of people responded by snail mail, e-mail, BlackBerry messages, phone calls, you name it. Many stories were laugh-out-loud funny, some were so poignant you’d get a lump in your throat reading them. A few had perfect recall of every detail, and others were foggy with time. Over and over, people told Doro stories she’d never heard before, often of quiet good deeds George had done over the years that no one knew about. Even in the midst of crises, he has always made time for the personal touches—some little, some big—that can make all the difference in someone else’s life. These stories speak to George’s love of his friends and family.
Through and through, My Father, My President is about loyalty. Doro has shown us her dad’s loyalty to the principles he was raised with; his fidelity to his friends who have carried him through good times and bad; his trueheartedness in always wanting to do what is right, no matter what the personal cost; and his faithfulness to our family—not just to our sons and daughter but to all the grandchildren, aunts, uncles, and cousins whom he loves so much.
Loyalty is something learned by example and motivated by love. You can’t teach loyalty; it is natural. My dad once told me there were really only three things you can give your children that count: the best education available, a good example, and all the love in the world. That was very wise advice. We tried to do all these things. George was better at it than I was, probably because he is the most honest, caring person I know. From his example, our children have learned loyalty, and Doro has all the same sweet loyal instincts he has.
All of our children feel joy with the successes—and sorrow in the pains—of the others. They look out for each other, and they are proud of each other’s accomplishments. Life in our family has had its ups and downs—both private and public—like all families. We’ve made our share of mistakes, and no one in our family is perfect. Politics may sound glamorous, but we’ve lost a lot of campaigns along the way and seen a lot of heartache. Some of the rough times we’ve been through could have driven us apart. The important thing is that we stuck together, and we’re thankful for that.
Life in politics has certainly given me a few extra wrinkles and gray hair. One time I was asked to be the keynote speaker at the National Plastic Surgeons Convention. I was afraid they’d rush the stage, eager to get their hands on me. Many times I’ve received letters in the mail with suggestions for new hairstyles, hair colors, and improvements to my wardrobe. If I had a nickel for every fashion “tip” I’ve gotten, I’d be a millionaire! But my philosophy is that the wrinkles show where the laughs have been, and my white hair is, well, the inspiration for the name my kids bestowed upon me, the Silver Fox.
The only way I know how to be is to be myself. The only way I know how to parent is to parent the way I have been for sixty years. I don’t want to be remembered for the number of my children who have been elected to office, or succeeded in business, or raised money for charities. My yardstick for success as a mother is how many of my children are kind, honest, decent people who work hard and serve others. That’s the only way I know to measure success in life.
George and I are very proud that all of our children still want to come home. That is our greatest accomplishment. That’s the greatest accomplishment of any parent.
The three things I hope you take from reading this book are the importance of family, of love, and of loyalty, for those are the essence of George Bush.
Barbara Bush
April 2006