Remembering George H. W. Bush and Tyson Peppers

My late son Tyson and I once had the opportunity of meeting George Bush, Barbara Bush, and Bush’s presidential campaign manager and chief of staff Jim Baker, as well.

It was 1980, and I was working as a regional marketing director for Houston’s Texas International Airlines. We lived in the northwest part of Houston, which had been Congressman Bush’s district a few years previously, before he had been appointed Ambassador to the United Nations and later director of the CIA. I had studied foreign policy in grad school (which made me feel very self-important), so when Bush began his campaign for the Republican nomination for President, joining a crowded field that included Howard Baker, Bob Dole, and Ronald Reagan, among others, I volunteered to work on Saturdays at the campaign headquarters.

Around the headquarters they always referred to Mr. Bush as “the Ambassador.” He had his own office at the headquarters, although he was of course travelling heavily and only came in rarely. His wife Barbara came in several times, however, to cheer us all on, and Jim Baker was frequently in the headquarters for at least part of a Saturday. The Ambassador’s office contained several shelves of books and mementos – framed certificates and awards, pictures of him with various colleagues and government officials from around the world, and a number of model World War II airplanes.

I learned a lot about the importance of networking and maintaining relationships with others during my time volunteering for the campaign, also. Mr. Bush himself was in the habit of mailing out hand written notes to people who had helped him, at least once a day -- notes that would go to lawyers and campaign workers, or to porters or cab drivers. He was an extremely gracious and appreciative man, always attuned to others and never too busy to take the time needed to make connections.

But in the spring of 1980 Tyson had just turned 3, and on Saturdays I would take him with me, along with a supply of his toys, to the campaign headquarters. While I did research for various background papers and things, Tyson would play with his toys on the floor at my feet. Tyson’s brother Emmet was less than a year old at the time, so taking Tyson with me gave his mother a bit of a break on Saturdays, too.

It was of course unusual to have a 3-year-old in the campaign office, but they were happy to accommodate us on Saturdays. Tyson’s presence brightened the place up, and he was always capable of finding a friendly face somewhere, so he wasn’t much trouble. As we (Tyson and I) became more familiar with this Saturday routine, and as the others on the campaign staff became more familiar with us, I found I could let Tyson wander off a little bit on his own, too.

But after a couple of months I do remember that we were all called to an impromptu meeting with Jim Baker. After covering a number of other housekeeping issues, Mr. Baker announced that someone had been in the Ambassador’s office and broken most of his model planes.

The culprit was never found.