In this week leading into unprecedented back-to-back national
conventions, there is almost no good excuse for not writing about
current politics. Almost. But a visit to the Reagan Ranch
provides a rare exception.
Last Wednesday the Ranch, saved for future generations (and
especially for student enlightenment) by the Young America’s
Foundation, celebrated the anniversary of President Ronald Reagan’s
signing of his famous tax-cut bill in 1981 with a wonderful
barbeque and a speech by Wall Street Journal economics
writer Stephen Moore. It was a worthy occasion on a shining day, at
a beautiful place that ought to be hallowed ground for patriotic
Americans for years to come.
By necessity, the Rancho del Cielo (Ranch in the Sky) is
available for student groups but not open to the general public (as
will be explained shortly), but the public may visit the
Foundation’s Reagan Center in downtown Santa Barbara — a town on
the Pacific, framed by mountains, that seems to approximate Eden
itself in its sunny loveliness. The Center, graced with an
impressive piece of the Berlin Wall, is full of wonderful pictures
of the memorably photogenic Gipper, and promises to boast a
fascinating little museum when all the exhibits are ready this
fall.
Only by means of small tour buses, though, can the Ranch itself
be accessed after a 45-minute ride. Fifteen minutes of a ride along
the beach highway (U.S. 101) is easy enough, but then the climb up
the mountains begins. And what a climb it is! Gentle enough only at
first, Refugio Road narrows into what amounts to a single lane of
asphalt, sometimes only moderately well maintained, as it turns
into a steep and stunning drive that quite obviously could not bear
much public traffic.
The road snakes, swerves, and switchbacks (if “switchbacks” can
be a verb!) at often breathtaking angles, sometimes with amazingly
steep drop-offs, overlooking sunlit mountain vistas alternated with
vegetation surprisingly more lush than that of some of the lower
hills seen from above during the climb. Occasionally the sightlines
are good enough to provide a view of the Pacific, now a good eight
miles away. A solid half-hour of this ascent makes one understand
the reference to “sky” in the Ranch’s name.
THEN, THROUGH AN UNASSUMING GATE (combination required to get
through the lock), the road suddenly leaves the steep mountainside
and enters a broad plateau, 2,200 feet above see level, that a
visitor would never imagine could exist after such a sharp and
craggy climb. The Ranch, 688 acres full of a plethora of the
soul-enriching hiking- and riding-trails that Reagan and wife Nancy
so famously enjoyed, is remarkably tranquil — and the ranch house
itself is a modest 1,500 square-foot bungalow overlooking a bucolic
pond called “Lake Lucky.” From the outside, the little house is so
plain as to seem almost devoid of all character. (Mikhail Gorbachev
reportedly said it was not a habitation fit for a president.) But
one step inside the door, and Reagan’s personality infuses the
place so thoroughly as to be quite palpable.
The books that line the shelves show Reagan’s quintessentially
inquisitive mind and myriad interests. Classics on political
theory, quite obviously well read and re-read, are interspersed
with books on local flora and fauna and history, Louis L’Amour
westerns, and a great big book on football authored by former Ram
and Redskin Coach George Allen (father of the former Virginia
governor and senator). Wall hangings and decorative art celebrate
local native American heritage, while much of the functional
furniture betrays a 1970s sensibility (not the gaudy
disco-influenced variety but the middle-American, inexpensive
sturdiness of the decade that is too often forgotten). Diverse
collectibles suggest the Reagan’s private lifestyle at the ranch,
and often show signs of Reagan’s personal attachments and
friendships. It is a house utterly devoid of artifice. It lacks
pretense, too — except for occasional evidence that the man was
indeed president, such as an artful presidential seal made by a
neighbor out of 1600 nails mounted on a wooden placard, and the
shower head in the shape of the Liberty Bell.
One small room had been an outdoor porch until Reagan himself
enclosed it, installing the linoleum floor with his own hands. The
kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom are amazingly small, and closet
space is almost nonexistent. But the homey comfort-level of the
place, its relaxation quotient, is high. It’s almost impossible to
visit without feeling, in one’s bones, that this president was an
immensely likable man.
Outside the bungalow, a delicious tri-tip beef and chicken
barbeque preceded Stephen Moore’s speech. Worthy of a column in
itself, Moore’s remarks reminded those assembled just how bad the
economy was before Reagan signed his tax-cut law, just how dramatic
the cut was, and just how successful it was at revitalizing the
entire American (and eventually the free world’s) economy.
Particularly classic was Moore’s story of a White House senior
staff meeting he attended late in 1987 as Treasury Secretary James
Baker reported back on budget negotiations in which congressional
Democrats, feeling their oats, thought they had Reagan on the hook
for a tax hike. Baker himself recommended accepting the deal. A
great silence descended on the room as Reagan spent quite a bit of
time cogitating on Baker’s report. Then, in a mock-James Cagney
voice, Reagan smiled and asked who was going to tell those “dirty
rats” that there would be no deal. Even in the wake of a
(temporary) 25 percent drop in the stock market in one day, Reagan
would not surrender essential principle.
In truth, it was again and again the case that the Gipper won
another one for us.
OF MANY OTHER FOND IMPRESSIONS from the ranch visit, one does seem
now to have particularly current relevance. Outside the house’s
front door, an endless-loop video showed all of the network
newscasts from 1981 that described the tax-cut signing ceremony
held right there at the ranch. The event had turned into an
unscripted mini-press conference, and the subjects ran afield from
economics. Reagan was asked to defend himself against strong
Russian criticism of his then-decision to go ahead with development
of the “neutron bomb.” Time magazine reported at the time
that “TASS, the government news agency, said that the decision
illustrated Ronald Reagan’s ‘cannibalistic instincts,’ and was ‘an
extremely dangerous step toward the further spiraling of the arms
race and enhancing the threat of nuclear war.’” But Reagan was
unperturbed.
“They are squealing like they’re sitting on a sharp nail,” he
said, “simply because we now are showing the will that we are not
going to let them get to the point of dominance where they can
someday issue to the free world an ultimatum of ‘Surrender or
die.’”
As the Russians’ aggressiveness suddenly seems to have returned
this month, one could be forgiven for wishing that Reagan were
still around to handle the situation. Surely he could take care of
it, with aplomb, from his ranch, on vacation.
