George H. W. Bush, the Letters, and the Case for Decency ======================================================== Jean Becker spent 25 years as Bush's chief of staff, and her memoir is less about politics than about showing up. Turns out the guy wrote thousands of letters and treated the gardener like a king. ---------------------------------------- SAM: Hey, welcome back to 7 Minute Books. I'm Sam, and today we're talking about The Man I Knew by Jean Becker, which is her memoir about working for George H. W. Bush for the last twenty five years of his life. Sophie, I have to ask, did this book hit you the way it hit me? SOPHIE: It really did. And I think what makes it land is that it's not a political biography at all. Jean Becker was his chief of staff, she started right after he lost the 1992 election, and she stayed until the end. So we get this incredibly intimate view of a president after the presidency, which almost nobody writes about. SAM: Right, and that's the part I couldn't stop thinking about. He loses to Clinton, he's done, and instead of fading away he just kind of… doubles down on being a decent person? Like, his whole post presidency becomes this active chapter of service. SOPHIE: Exactly. Becker calls it a philosophy of service, and she traces it back to his upbringing, this family that valued duty above everything. He enlisted as a Navy pilot at eighteen, the youngest in the service at the time. Then congressman, UN ambassador, CIA director, envoy to China, Vice President, and President. The thread never breaks. SAM: And what's wild is that the thread doesn't break after the White House either. He raises money through the Points of Light Foundation for volunteerism. He teams up with Bill Clinton, his old rival, to do tsunami and hurricane relief. That friendship is one of the best parts of the book. SOPHIE: Okay so what's actually going on there is a really specific mechanism. Bush had this ability to separate the political opponent from the human being. So Clinton isn't the guy who beat him anymore. Clinton is just a person he can work with, and eventually love like a brother. That's not normal in politics. SAM: No way. I mean, you remember last week when I was complaining about that guy at work who took credit for my idea? I held onto that for days. Bush lost an entire election and then became best friends with the winner. That's a different species of human. SOPHIE: It's a choice though, right? Becker is clear that this wasn't passive. He deliberately cultivated relationships. He wrote thousands and thousands of letters. To friends, to strangers, to grieving families, to kids who sent him a note. He'd dictate them while watching sports, with a stack of stationery always next to him. SAM: The letters are the heart of this book for me. He wrote to say thank you. He wrote to offer encouragement. Sometimes he just wrote, thinking of you. That's it. Two words. And people kept those letters for decades. SOPHIE: Because it wasn't a political move. Becker makes that really clear. He remembered names and faces. He asked his Secret Service agents about their kids. He went to the weddings and funerals of the staff at Kennebunkport. He treated the gardener with the same respect he showed a king. SAM: Honestly, that's the line that got me. Same respect he showed a king. And I kept thinking, who does that? Who actually lives like that? SOPHIE: Well, and Becker doesn't make him a saint either. She's honest about his quirks. He could be blunt. He was impatient with inefficiency. He loved a nap. But she also shows this huge emotional life underneath the patrician image. SAM: Yeah, the crying. He wept openly about Barbara, about his kids, about soldiers he visited in the hospital. And he wasn't embarrassed by it. He saw it as part of being human. SOPHIE: And that vulnerability is the engine of his humor too. He loved practical jokes and silly puns. He'd wear funny hats, imitate world leaders, tell self deprecating stories. The humor and the tears come from the same place, which is a total lack of ego. SAM: I actually pushed back on this when I first read it, because I thought, okay, this is a chief of staff writing about her boss, of course it's glowing. But then there's this section about Robin, his daughter who died of leukemia at three years old. And Becker says he'd still speak about it with this raw, unhealed pain decades later. SOPHIE: That's the crucible of the whole book, I think. That loss taught him that suffering is universal. So when he visits sick children, or writes to a family who lost someone, it's not a photo op. He's genuinely sitting in their grief with them. SAM: Right. And there's something so quiet about it. He doesn't make grand gestures. He just shows up. He writes the letter. He makes the call. He offers the hug. SOPHIE: Which brings us to his relationship with his own legacy, and this is the part I found genuinely surprising. He was aware history would judge him, and he was at peace with it. He didn't spend his post presidency trying to rewrite the narrative. SAM: That lack of ego is so disarming. He could sit with a former rival and laugh about an old disagreement. No resentment. He understood that life is too short for grudges. SOPHIE: Becker writes about him with real affection, but she's clear eyed. He gave her enormous responsibility and treated her as a partner, not a subordinate. Their relationship is its own quiet love story, a professional friendship built on loyalty and honesty. SAM: And then the last chapters, when his health declines. That's where the book really got me. He hated being dependent. He hated not being able to write his own letters. But he stayed kind and grateful the whole way through. SOPHIE: He thanked his caregivers. He worried about his friends. He kept cracking jokes. Becker says his final days were a testament to the life he'd lived. Surrounded by family, loved by friends, at peace with the world. SAM: Okay, here's the thing I'm actually taking away from this one. It's not about politics, and it's not even really about Bush. It's that decency is a practice, not a personality trait. You have to actually do it. Every day. In small ways. SOPHIE: And if you want to go deeper on this one, or on any of the six thousand plus fiction and nonfiction titles in the library, they're all over at 7minutebooks.com/app. You can read or listen in any language, and it starts at two ninety nine a month, nine ninety nine a year, or nineteen ninety nine for lifetime access. SOPHIE: The whole book comes down to this. Greatness isn't measured by the monuments you leave behind, it's measured by the hearts you touch along the way. We'll see you in the next one.