By Scott Clarkson

(Continued from Friday’s Herald.)

I once saw a letter that Reagan had personally sent to Voinovich and could tell the difference from his autopen signature and the hand written one. You can always tell if it is signed with the autopen by the squiggly lines in the signature. Nonetheless, I was happy that I got some kind of reply back from the White House but I wouldn’t give up.
I again started writing Reagan when he left office but never received a reply. Ten years later I went again to visit the place where he initialed R. R. on the old train station. The letters were starting to fade so I started a project to protect them for future generations. There used to be a plastic shield covering them but it had apparently been shattered by a rock. After the local paper did a story on this, I sent it to President Reagan’s office in Los Angeles.  I put in the letter that I estimate to be by now my 20th, that I have longed to meet President Reagan and I would be the most grateful person in the world if I could be given the opportunity.
About three weeks later, I was working my second job teaching evening adult education classes when the school secretary came to my classroom to inform me I had an important call. I said, “From who?” She said from President Reagan’s office. I immediately thought she was kidding for they all knew how much I liked Reagan and always talked about him. I told her, “Tell them I’m busy.” She gave me a frown and said “This is not a joke, they’re really on the phone.” I came out of my classroom and walked down the hall thinking there was going to be someone on the end of the phone playing a practical joke on me. I picked up the receiver to hear the words, “Mr. Clarkson, this is President Reagan’s office and we got your letter.” I was taken over with an awesome feeling of amazement. President Reagan’s office was calling me! I said, “Thank you” and this was all I could get out. They went on to say that they understood I would like to meet the President and then asked, “Would you like to come out?” I felt like I was winning a million dollars and said “Yes!”  They gave me a date and I said I would definitely be there. I yelled with excitement and right away made a call to the airlines and booked a flight. I had forgotten that I had a class waiting for me. I was scheduled on a flight to California in two weeks. This was too good to be true. I was going to have a personal meeting with President Ronald Reagan, whom I had dreamed of meeting since I was 16 years old. Now at age 30, it was really going to happen. I asked my principal for a few days off and he acquiesced knowing that this was a dream come true.
I packed my suitcase a week before I had to go to the airport and travel to Los Angeles. When I landed I rented a car and drove to the address the staff gave me to Reagan’s office. I wanted to make a test run before my 9 a.m. appointment the next morning to make sure I knew where I was going and wouldn’t be late. I set my alarm and called the hotel’s front desk for a wake-up call for 7 a.m. His office was only twenty-minutes away but I wanted to arrive extra early. I woke up at 6 a.m. on my own and drove to Avenue of the Stars in Century City to his office building where he had a suite on the thirty-fourth floor. It was the same skyscraper where Bruce Willis had filmed the movie Die Hard. I walked in, got into the elevator and pushed the button to the 34th floor but it did not light up. I pushed it again but it still didn’t work. I walked to the security desk and told them I had a meeting with President Reagan but the button wouldn’t work. They said they had to have a special pass and called his office. A Secret Service Agent came down, took me in the elevator and put in a special key card that allows access to that floor. When I arrived, Reagan’s secretary looked at me in a peculiar way. Instead of any greeting, she asked, “Mr. Clarkson?” I said, “Yes, I am here to meet President Reagan.”  She said, “We tried to call you and left a message on your answering machine but you must not have gotten it in time.” I knew something was wrong and thought, did I come all the way here for nothing. She said that the President had the flu and we had to cancel our meeting. I felt like all the wind went out of my sails. I asked selfishly if I could go see him at his home and she said no. She did say however that he may be here the next day if I wanted to try again, but she couldn’t promise anything. I said that certainly I would come back and walked away in hope I would see him tomorrow.
She was very nice to arrange for me a personal tour of the Ronald Reagan Library in Simi Valley. I drove to this beautiful place and was given a behind the scenes look at the fairly new place.  I saw his private office where he had brought furniture he used in the White House. I also was granted permission to stand on his private balcony right outside his office. I was told this was his favorite view. You can also see where he and Nancy will be buried. I went to the mock Oval Office and got yelled at by a staff member for taking a picture. I was unaware that photoflashes were not allowed. I made the hour drive back to my hotel where I again set my alarm and arranged another wake-up call. I started to worry though that I flew all the way out here and may loose my life-long dream of meeting him.  I could not sleep and was up the entire night. By the time morning came I was emotionally exhausted but took a shower, put my suit back on and drove to his office building, two hours before my ten o’clock appointment. I again got assistance going to the thirty-fourth floor and my hands were sweating all the way up.  Would I hear the words from his secretary that the President would not be in today or would I hear the words that our meeting was still on. I got off the elevator and approached the desk. She looked at me and said, “The President is not in now….. but…….., he is running late and won’t  be here for another hour. You are welcome to wait.  “Of course I will wait!” I said. I took a seat in his lobby where I gazed over all the pictures of the President from the White House years. I still kept thinking of how he came from Dixon to become one of the most beloved Presidents in history. I could hardly control my excitement as I knew I was only one hour away from finally meeting him.
Even though I had been up the entire night, I was fully alert. As it got close to 11 a.m. I saw a private elevator in the back open and two Secret Service Agents come out. They were laughing from a comment the President had made. I then saw Reagan walk out laughing too. This was the second time I saw him in person.  He was wearing a dark blue suit and a long coat. I saw him walk behind glass doors. Shortly after, his secretary came out and said the President will see me in about fifteen minutes. My hands started to sweat. It was finally the moment I had been waiting for. A small town boy from Ohio was going to get a chance to spend time with President Ronald Reagan. Shortly after, she once again came out and said, “Mr. Clarkson, the President will see you now.” The words that hit my ears were unbelievable but finally true and I felt as if things were going in slow motion. I was in a magical daze as I went through the glass doors and started walking down the hall to his personal office.  When I got to the doorway, she walked in ahead of me and announced, “Mr. President, this is Scott Clarkson from Ohio.” I walked up to him and said “President Reagan, you are my greatest American Hero.”  He raised his arm to shake my hand and said the word I heard him so often say on TV, “Well,” and gave me an “aw-shucks” grin he is also famous for. I told him of how long I had waited for this chance and that this is one of the greatest days of my life.
I looked around his office and noticed the pictures on his shelf of him and President Eisenhower and Margaret Thatcher. We started to talk about many things. He told me he still likes to go golfing and he looked in great shape for being eighty-four years old. I showed him a quote I cut out from a magazine, which said that a group of people took a poll and voted him as having the most perfect body in America. He took the quote, read it and started to grin and said, “Thank you.” As we stood there talking, two members of his staff came in and took pictures. I couldn’t believe I was actually standing here talking to him. It took many years of believing I could. When his staff person told the President to hand me a gift from his desk, he picked up a small statue of the Liberty Bell to give me. The staffer then said, “No Mr. President, the box.”  He then gave a little confused look but then handed me a small blue box with his name printed on it. Inside was a ballpoint pen with his signature inscribed in gold.
I showed him pictures of my two oldest children, Austin and Nadine. He took the photos and closely looked them over.  He told me that I have very nice looking children.  We posed for several pictures. I asked if he remembered the time when he was filming a movie with fellow actor Lionel Barrymore, who was playing a paraplegic. Barrymore accidentally ran into Reagan’s shin, causing him to bleed. He said he did remember the incident but couldn’t recall which movie it occurred in.  After a few shots, the staff suggested Reagan get some photos with his glasses off, which he did, and I also took mine off. I told Reagan that someday I’d like to run for office like him. He said that he enjoyed every minute of it. I asked if he could give me any advice and he looked at me and said, “Well, you can do anything you put your mind to.” I said “Thank you Mr. President, I agree.” I then looked down and saw that his ring finger on his left hand was bent. It is a condition called Dupuytren’s and he had the finger operated on in 1989. I also saw some gray in his hair but it was still very thick and he combed it back and used gel to hold it down. I then presented him with a plaque that showed an elephant kicking a donkey in the behind at which he gave another grin. I proceeded to shake his hand one more time and told him what an honor it was being with him today.
My visit came shortly after he made his Alzheimer’s public. Many people have asked me if I noticed signs of it and I did a little bit.  However, it in no way though diminished my excitement. After all, here was a man who was in his mid-80s, putting on a suit and coming downtown to his office three or four times a week.  According to his staff, it was Nancy who strongly encouraged him to get out of the house to keep him as alert as possible.
As I left his office, I just turned around and kept staring at him. I knew it would be the last time I’d ever see him in person. He gave me a small wave and I waved back. I left the building with a great feeling. I was so happy I ran outside with my arms up in the air with excitement. People around me probably thought I was some crazy person. Little did they know, I had just met one of the most popular Presidents whom I had wanted to meet since I was 16 years old. When I arrived home several days later, I checked the messages on my machine. Sure enough, there was a message from Regan’s secretary canceling my visit with me. I’m thankful I never received that message, I defied history.
Six years later, I would have another daughter born whom I would name in his honor, Reagan Clarkson, born in 2001. I wrote a letter to Nancy Reagan telling her that I would for many years to come, hear the name Reagan in my home and that it was an honor to name my daughter after her husband who was such an inspiration to people around the world. She wrote me a nice letter back saying she appreciated the gesture. I also had written President Reagan’s Chief of Staff, Joan Drake, asking for permission to start a national Ronald Reagan Fan Club. She told me that I must write a letter asking Nancy personally for such a thing and I did. However, I know that Nancy is very protective of her husband. One time when Reagan received surgery to his head in 1989 to relieve pressure on the brain, he wore a baseball cap to conceal his half-shave head. He took it off once to wave to a crowd and she frantically tried to conceal his bald spot with her hand so no one would see it. I received a letter back saying she would not give me permission to start this club and was turning down all requests to use his name. I was disappointed and knew there had once been such a club and Reagan paid his mother to help with all the correspondence. When he had little work in Hollywood, he also sold 8×10’s portraits of himself to get extra income. I never started the club after being denied formal permission but that’s all right. Reagan will be admired by millions across the country for his optimism and making us again believe in ourselves as Americans.