I was only two years old when Ronald Reagan was elected, and only ten when he left office. I don’t follow politics closely now, and I certainly didn’t when I was a child. My only vivid memories of world events in the 1980s are the Challenger accident and the tearing down of the Berlin Wall, and I remember more about Mikhail Gorbachev than Reagan. But I suppose that each of those can be traced to President Reagan, in his speech after the loss of the astronauts, and his work to end the Cold War (despite having left office by the time the wall actually fell), and his meetings with Gorbachev while establishing a relationship with the Soviet Union.
He looked like a movie star, and according to those who knew him, put people instantly at ease with a joke or a smile. And while watching the funeral this morning, on my unexpected federal holiday, even though I never knew him and don’t really remember his presidency, it was impossible not to like him.
With so many world leaders and familiar faces together in one place, I have to wonder about the person they are all there to honor, and wish that he hadn’t been quite so before my time. Amid the pomp and ceremony and quiet formality that constitutes a state funeral, it was impossible not to feel sad.