On July 14, 2011—what would have been President Ford’s ninety-eighth birthday—Elizabeth Anne Bloomer Ford was laid to rest in the tomb alongside her husband, near the Gerald R. Ford Presidential Museum in Grand Rapids. As family and friends mourned the woman they loved and admired, amid the grief there was joy, for no one doubted that Jerry and Betty were together again—laughing, holding hands—and, if there are beds in heaven, they were sharing one.
For the previous four and a half years, Betty had slept with Jerry’s folded casket flag next to her, on his pillow, but as she neared the end of her life, she had to consider what should be done with it once she was gone.
Shortly before President Ford died, he learned that the United States Navy was going to name its next aircraft carrier, CVN 78, the USS Gerald R. Ford. It would be the first in a new class of nuclear-powered carriers, and even though he would never see the ship built to completion, President Ford wrote that it was a source of “indescribable pride and humility to know that an aircraft carrier bearing my name may be permanently associated with the valor and patriotism of the men and women of the United States Navy.”
Betty, knowing that Jerry had always been fiercely proud of his service as a lieutenant commander in the US Navy, directed that the flag’s final home was to be on the USS Gerald R. Ford.
“Mother’s decision about the flag was characteristically firm,” Susan recalled. “She gave us specific instructions about the flag—very specific.”
As the ship’s sponsor, Susan was integrally involved in the eleven-year shipbuilding and commissioning process, and it was an emotional moment when she unveiled the still-folded flag, now encased in a wood-and-glass frame etched with her dad’s vice presidential and presidential seals, and presented it to the commanding officer, Captain John Meier.
“On behalf of Mother,” Susan said, “I hereby entrust the flag of President Gerald R. Ford to you, and the ship’s future captains, to remain at all times aboard the ship until such time as she is decommissioned.”
The USS Gerald R. Ford was commissioned in July 2017, and while the 2,600 sailors who live aboard the ship have a keen sense of President Ford’s legacy, Betty Ford’s healing spirit is among them too. Ironically, it was at the Long Beach Naval Hospital where Betty learned, in those life-changing four weeks of treatment after her intervention, that sailors are not immune to alcoholism, drug abuse, or mental health issues. So, inside the medical unit of this floating city is a tranquil space filled with inspirational books, behind a door with a plaque that says:
Betty Ford Counseling and Assistance Center
This Is a Place Where You Can Go, That You Can Feel Safe and Look Inside Yourself and Discover Yourself.
—Betty Ford
It is impossible to quantify Betty Ford’s legacy or to overstate it. So many things we take for granted come as a direct result of her candor and courage.
For any woman diagnosed with breast cancer today, her chances of survival—especially if it is detected early—are infinitely greater than in 1974 when Betty Ford received that devastating news. Betty made it okay to talk publicly about breasts and cancer—and by encouraging that conversation, and then working tirelessly to keep it going, funding for research, education, and care has grown exponentially. Each year, hundreds of thousands of people participate in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure; doctors now ask, “Have you had your annual mammogram?”; and cancer is no longer something that’s spoken about in hushed voices. At Betty’s funeral in Grand Rapids, historian Richard Norton Smith remarked, “Where women’s health issues are concerned, American history is divided into two unequal periods: Before Betty and After Betty.”
The same can be said about treatment for alcoholism and drug addiction. More than a hundred thousand people have been treated at the Betty Ford Center since its inception in 1982, and it remains the only treatment facility in the world that has an equal number of beds for women as for men. The reason for the center’s success and world-class reputation came from Betty’s philosophy that “at the Betty Ford Center, we do it right the first time.” Over the years, people tried to convince her to set up Betty Ford Centers all over the world—New York, Paris, even Saudi Arabia—but, in all cases, she was adamantly against it.
“We do one thing, and we do it really well,” she’d say. “If you have centers all over the place, how do you control the quality?” It was her name on the center, and she wasn’t willing to risk sacrificing the reputation they’d worked so hard to build.
“You can’t be all things to all people,” she said. “So we’re going to focus on alcoholism and drug addiction. We’re going to focus on family and children. And we’ll feel good about that.”
In 1975, when Betty began championing the Equal Rights Amendment, women’s wages were less than 60 percent of men’s. By 2017, women, on average, were earning 80 percent of what men earn—an increase, for sure, though still far from equal.
It is astonishing that the issues Betty Ford brought into the national conversation in the 1970s and 1980s are just as relevant today. Women are still marching for equal rights and equal pay; breast cancer still claims tens of thousands of lives each year; and addiction to opioid drugs has become a national crisis.
According to the US Department of Health and Human Services, in 2016 an estimated 11.5 million people in the United States misused prescription opioid pain relievers, and more than 17,000 died as a result of overdosing on commonly prescribed opioids. Millions of people get prescriptions for opioids—from their doctors—to treat chronic pain. One in four misuse the drugs. And of those people, 5 percent will transition to heroin. The problem is systemic, with plenty of blame to go around. But the staggering reality is that there are countless people just like Betty Ford, who become addicted to legal drugs prescribed by their physician. And month after month, the doctors continue renewing prescriptions for drugs that are known to be addictive.
President and Mrs. Ford never expected or required their children to follow in their footsteps, and none has entered politics. Three of the Ford children serve as trustees of the Gerald R. Ford Presidential Foundation, and while Jack has chosen to remain out of the public eye, Susan, Steve, and Mike continue to work on behalf of causes that Betty Ford cared about so deeply.
Susan worked alongside her mother to help launch National Breast Cancer Awareness Month in 1984 and remains a vocal advocate for women’s health issues. She has been an active member of the board of directors of the Betty Ford Center since 1992 and succeeded her mother as chairman of the board from 2005 to 2010. In 2014 the Betty Ford Center merged with the Minnesota-based Hazelden Foundation, and Susan currently serves on the board of what is now known as the Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation.
Steve Ford has proudly remained sober for more than twenty-five years, and finds tremendous satisfaction mentoring young men battling addiction and speaking to groups all over the United States about his personal recovery journey.
Mike Ford continued his work in the ministry and found his “calling” working with college students. During his thirty-six-year career in administration at Wake Forest University, his primary focus was on the personal and holistic development of students to become enlightened and contributing leaders and citizens.
The merger between the Betty Ford Center and Hazelden created the nation’s largest nonprofit addiction treatment provider, but, staying true to Betty’s wishes, there remains only one inpatient Betty Ford Center. Despite the change in management, Betty Ford’s aura permeates the campus in Rancho Mirage. Framed portraits of her hang on the walls, along with the artwork she handpicked and placed, while her philosophy and encouraging words are etched into plaques throughout the facility. Patients entering Firestone Hall see these words emblazoned on the wall:
“Anyone and everyone can escape the hell that addiction has created for them and their families if they dare to take that first big step—reaching out for, and accepting, help.”
Throughout the writing of this book, I felt Betty’s unmistakable guidance every step of the way. I never knew Betty Ford, but knowing what I know now, there is little doubt in my mind that she orchestrated this entire process.
The first time I met Susan Ford Bales was at her home in Tulsa, Oklahoma. For several hours she shared with me her memories of growing up as Betty Ford’s daughter. It was late afternoon when she walked me outside to my car, and as we stopped in the courtyard to say goodbye, a single yellow butterfly appeared out of nowhere and flew in a figure eight around the two of us.
Two days later, I was back home in California and happened to go out for breakfast after a morning doctor’s appointment. It was my first time at Theresa & Johnny’s Comfort Food in San Rafael, and I was stunned when the waitress appeared before me wearing the restaurant’s “uniform”: a black T-shirt etched with David Kennerly’s photo of Betty Ford dancing on the Cabinet Room table. On the back it proclaimed, “Breakfast That Will Make You Want to Dance!”
While conducting interviews at the Betty Ford Center, I contacted the new owners of the former Ford residence on Sand Dune Road in Rancho Mirage, and they graciously allowed me to tour the home. As I stepped outside the door from the living room and onto the patio facing the golf course, I kid you not, a single yellow butterfly arose from the bushes and fluttered above my head.
Most of my writing was done on my laptop while sitting at the head of my dining room table, surrounded by books and yellow legal pads filled with notes, facing a large window overlooking San Francisco Bay. Inevitably, there would be those times when the words just wouldn’t come; when I couldn’t figure out exactly how to bring Betty to life on the page. I’d pause and look up from the screen, and so many times—so many times—there would be a single butterfly—sometimes yellow, sometimes a bright-orange monarch, but always a single butterfly—peering in as if to say, “Keep going. You’ve got this. One day at a time.”
There is a remarkable sense of serenity at the Betty Ford Center. The purple desert mountains stand guard like giant arms protecting the campus with a gentle grace. If there comes a time when you happen to be a patient walking along the winding palm tree–lined paths, struggling on your own journey, don’t be surprised if you happen to see a single butterfly fluttering its wings like a graceful dancer, hovering just overhead.