The year was 1988. Jack Kemp came to my hometown,
Pensacola, Florida, where Navy pilots trained and the kids hung
out at the beaches with the sugar white sand.
A friend and I were hooked on the old Crossfire with Pat
Buchanan and Tom Braden/Michael Kinsley. We identified Kemp
as the best hope to continue Reagan's reign.
Kemp stopped at the airport just long enough to shake the hands
(including mine which I considered not washing) and give a
speech. I was one of a hundred or so who came out to see
him that day. His prospects already looked shaky. He
asked us, "Do you want me to give up?" We all shouted,
"NO!"
There could probably be a great alternate history written with
the premise of Kemp being elected that year.
He lost, of course, but went on to serve in Housing and Urban
Development in the Bush administration. His many young fans
held out hope his time would come. When Dole put him on the
ticket as a running mate in 1996, it seemed like destiny for
those of us who thought Kemp would rejuvenate the party. He
would bring back Reaganomics. He would break the back of
monolithic African-American support for Democrats and big
government.
Instead, he lost the Vice-Presidential debate to Al Gore (truly
performing with less verve than Dan Quayle in 1992, who BEAT
Gore!) and the GOP ticket made way for Clinton's second term.
After that, Kemp ceased to be the man many of us felt we were
waiting for and the party has lacked a true iconic figure since
that time. There was Reagan and then there was the one who
would take up Reagan's mantle. Kemp was supposed to be that
man.
While Kemp failed to become the party's leader (and, of course,
the nation's), his career was one of the most consequential in
American politics in the second half of the twentieth century.
Kemp was a winsome evangelist for the Reagan project in
Congress when the need was great. He was part of a group
that performed the near impossible in politics. They
promised. They delivered.