Happy Earth Day!

April 22nd, was the 40th time that we earthlings have celebrated Earth Day. Most of you know that the Earth Day observances started with President Nixon.


Sponsored jointly by the Nixon Library and the Richard Nixon Foundation, we held another of the Nixon Legacy Forum's, "Richard Nixon and the Rise of the Environment." The panelist were three men who were a part of the events of the day, the Honorable Chris DeMuth, the Honorable William Ruckelshaus and the Honorable John Whitaker.

The panel "streamed live", worldwide, from the Nixon Library Theater. It was great. You can see it for yourself on the Nixon Foundation You Tube channel or rnenews@nixonfoundation.org.

Again, I learned so much about what was going on at the time. We were reminded that our environment was just plain dirty, smelly and awful back then. President Nixon knew that drastic measures were badly needed and he made the issue a major domestic priority when he declared in his first State of the Union address that we make "the 1970's a historic period when, by conscious choice, we transform our land into what we want it to become." This bold action lead to the National Environmental Policy Act, the Clean Air and Clean Water Acts, the Endangered Species Act, the creation of the Environmental Protection Agency, and more than 80,000 acres of National Parks. WOW! So how come people say that President Nixon was only a foreign policy president?

Think back to 1970. We didn't know enough to think about thinking "green." It wasn't until raw sewage flowed into our waterways, rivers caught on fire, medical waste washed ashore, and beaches were closed that we began to wake up and smell the yellow air. One of my favorite lines of the panel was when Bill Ruckelshaus, the first EPA Administrator, said it wasn't until polluted air was so bad that the people in Denver wanted to be able to see the mountains and the people in Los Angeles wanted to be able to see each other, that citizens began demanding change. The impetus came from the people and the President responded.

However, the Nixon administration took its licks on that first Earth Day. John Whitaker, in his book, Striking a Balance, reminds us that Walter Cronkite on a one hour CBS-TV special said, Earth Day crowds were "predominantly white, predominantly young, and predominantly anti-Nixon." In 1970, Theodore White, writing an essay in Life magazine, "The two natural containers of the environment, the air and the water, finally vomited back on Americans the filth they could no longer absorb." That's harsh!


Christopher DeMuth, then a young 22 year old Harvard graduate, who had been brought to the White House by Patrick Moynihan, was very involved in the work of the task force who formulated the administrations environmental policies.

We've seen a huge improvement in our environmental quality since 1970.

Air is twice as clean now, despite that fact that twice as many cars are traveling twice as many miles. Peak smog levels are one-third as high as they were 40 years ago.

Recycling is common place now and every where we turn, we are reminded to think green. This year on Earth Day, school children at Disneyland released 140,000 ladybugs throughout the resort as part of the 12-year old integrated pest-management program. Ladybugs eat 4-5,000 aphids during their lifetime. Now that's truly a creative way to celebrate a bug's life at the Magic Kingdom in a way that helps Mother Earth. Way to go, Mickey!

A green apartment complex of 132 units here in Orange County, California, held their grand opening on Earth Day. Most cities in America are probably planning like projects.

However, we have to keep finding new, innovative ways to continue to make a difference. The job will never be over. Also, not all green, innovative products are as good as the old, wasteful ones. Showers for instance. It's really hard to get warm in the Coyote Base huge, cavernous marble shower with it's weenie little low-flow, water-saver shower head. Now, please don't mess with my shower in our Jackson Hole cabin. It is old and perfectly wonderful. The fire-hydrant-like blast of hot water is a welcome luxury. Sorry, but we aren't completely green and we gotta have some of our favorite comforts of life left to enjoy.

And speaking of showers, when you have your own blog, you get to choose what you want to write about, so my complaint in the shower category is directed at shampoo and/or conditioner container designers. Since I can't exactly wear my glasses while showering, it is very difficult to tell which is which. Come on folks. Make it easier, will you please?

Remembering Dorothy Height: During the years that we lived in Washington, DC, I often attended events and had a chance to visit with Ms. Height, who died recently. Her leadership was legendary, and it is true that when she entered a room, she commanded attention. She was always a vision from heels to hat, and just as friendly and gracious. She never failed to act glad to see me, but I was always a bit intimidated and awed to be in her company. She is called the "god mother of civil rights" and she worked tirelessly her entire 98 years for the cause. I think of her today with gratitude, and salute her for all she did for our country and for humankind.

Reminisices

The Docents at the Richard Nixon Library and Birthplace had their annual "Refresher Course" on Saturday. Ron and I were both asked to speak.


As you know, they are an amazing group of very knowledgeable and supportive representatives of the life and career of President Nixon. Many of them have told me that they love hearing our personal stories about the Nixons.


Ron does a fine imitation of President Nixon, and he peppers his stories with amazing impersonations of the former President. Those of you that have seen him in action, know what I am talking about. Our friend Warren Adler saw "Nixon in China" in New York and called to tell Ron that he did a better impersonation than the guy in the production. Could a stint on Broadway be in his future, the next time he flunks retirement?

I told the story of President Nixon meeting with Mexican President Diaz Ordaz in Puerto Vallarta. The President had been traveling non-stop, which meant that Ron and many other aides had been away from home a great deal. Bob Haldeman took pity on some of us and invited us to travel to Puerto Vallarta and have a few days of rest and recreation. Susie Chapin, Inge Elbourne, Pat Brennan and I were the lucky ladies. The State Department loaned us two dune buggies and we explored the beautiful beaches and mountains of Mexico. We stayed for several days at the charming, but long-gone "Garza Blanca" right on the beach. When the days of fun and sun ended, we returned to the official hotel, the "Camino Real." President and Mrs. Nixon arrival day dawned. "El Biggo Dayo" we called it.

Us girls were asked to disappear, and we were glad to, but requested one of the dune buggies for our getaway. I, the only one experienced driving a vehicle with a stick shift, took the wheel. We had admired the wonderful paintings of local artist, Leppe, and we wanted to visit his gallery. The artist had a whimsical style and did several paintings with American and Mexican flags to commemorate the historic meeting. We wanted to see if we could afford any of his painting with the flags.

When we found the street where the gallery was located, we were shocked and horrified to find the street closed. Having been in the country for a few days, we were very impressed with our own ability to speak the native language, and argued heatedly with the Mexican policeman telling us we couldn't enter that street. "Muy importante," we told him. "El biggo appointamente," we said heatedly as we pointed to our watches. It worked. He shook his head and moved the saw horses that had been blocking the intersection. We were thrilled and proud of ourselves.


When we matched the address of the gallery with the storefront, we couldn't believe our eyes. It was CLOSED. Why would they close it? It was an important day for both countries. Why would the artist want to lose potential business? Then we looked around. All the stores were closed. It was then that we realized we were the only vehicle on the street. Then we saw IT. A parade was headed right for us. Motorcycles, cars with flashing lights, flags, buses . . . . realization hit. It was the President's motorcade and it was headed right toward us.


Now, we had a choice. I could pull a U-turn and lead the motorcade. Or . . . we could sit where we were and let the entire Presidential entourage pass by. There is no place to hide in a dune buggy. There are no doors to duck behind or windows to roll up. We were four blondes trying to hide in plain sight. We froze. We were caught red faced and red handed.

Ron and Dwight were in the pilot car, clapping their hands in slow motion applause. All they said to us was, "Great way to disappear, girls." The President and Mrs. Nixon were riding in a convertible. He didn't say a word, but his face said it all. Mrs. Nixon, always gracious and loving to us, said, "You girls look so cute."

All the people on the buses were laughing and waving.

We didn't think it was funny until several minutes later. Then we couldn't stop laughing. The hilarity of the whole experience overwhelmed us and we had to exit the dune buggy to clutch our stomachs and bend over to accommodate the belly laughs. I promise you, we really did think we were disappearing as requested.


Can you imagine doing that today? In the first place, we probably could never "talk our way" into a secure area, and even if we did, we probably would have been taken out by roof top snipers. I have been on the street in Washington DC a couple of times when President Obama's motorcade is on the move. Streets are totally cleared for several, long minutes before his arrival. Traffic on side streets is blocked off. Pedestrians are told to stay on the sidewalk and "cease all movement." Police people yell at the tourists, "You, in the brown coat, stand still."

Then, finally, he goes flying by in a blur of frantic limo dust action. Tourists wave. "Did you see him", they ask each other? Bureaucrats and local residents release a collective sigh and go on about their day. It's the way of life in our nation's capitol these days.

I wouldn't have missed the way we got to experience Presidential motorcades for all the tequila in Mexico!

EARTHQUAKE!

Coyote Base was rocking and rolling on Easter afternoon! It's all daughter Marja's fault. She had said she hoped to experience an earthquake while she was living in Southern California. In the category of "be careful what you wish for" she was pretty freaked out by the actual event. She's now covering her proverbials by saying she only wished for a little one, not THE big one. Thank heavens, while this was a 7.2 magnitude quake, it was not THE big one.


Earthquakes are scary, dangerous, and destructive. I spent my girlhood in the San Gabriel valley, living in a two-story house. I slept in a four poster bed. When the "Tehachapi Earthquake" hit on July 21, 1952 at 4:30 in the morning, I vividly remember riding my bed from wall to wall, and hanging on for dear life, while my mother ran up and down the hall praying in a very loud voice. (I was 13) We teased her about it for years, but she never thought it was as funny as my brother, Rob, and I did. My Dad slept through the whole thing. She said her worry was the two brick chimney stacks on each end of the house. She was afraid they would tumble down and kill my brother in his room and my Dad snoring away on the other side of the house.

Yesterday's Easter afternoon quake hit about three-thirty. I first noticed my chair was moving back and forth. Ron announced that we were having an earthquake. Marja came flying out of her office to join us. We went into the back yard. (You are supposed to stand in a door-way to avoid any falling debris.) The dogs began barking as the pool water sloshed back and forth. Some of it splashed right out onto the deck. That was the most amazing part of the whole thing, watching a back yard tsunami happen right before your eyes.


Kodai, our boy dog, was the second most freaked out event participant. He insisted on sitting solidly in the middle of the back yard for a long time afterward. It was as if he didn't want to stand up and experience the scary sensation of involuntary movement again. His sister, Lulubelle, just wanted to play ball. That's her first choice of ways to spend her every waking moment. She runs like the wind, so maybe if you are moving fast enough, you don't really feel earthquakes like the rest of us.


Coyote Base is about 3 years old, so it would have been built in strict compliance with all the necessary codes for this part of earthquake country. That's a good thing. It is amazing to realize that our Easter earthquake was bigger than the one in Haiti. This one shook 20 million people in three states and Mexico, but it happened in an area where few people live. That was the huge difference.

I volunteered in the Museum Store at the President Richard Nixon Library and Birthplace on Easter Monday. Just about everyone wanted to talk about the earthquake, and everyone said they were so relieved when the shaking stopped. Californians hear so much about the "Big One" that experts say is inevitable. When it is only a 7.2, gratitude reigns. One geologist called it a "near miss." Hope Marja is now satisfied and will stop the wishing.

Presidential Kumquats

The Richard Nixon Library and Birthplace has a bumper crop of kumquats. The six beautiful trees, three on each side of the reflecting pool, are loaded with the picture perfect fruit. Daughter Marja and I couldn't resist. We harvested the little flavor-bombs to make kumquat marmalade.

Harvesting kumquats on the Library grounds.

I tried hard to find the Nixon/Kumquat historical background, but alas, there doesn't seem to be anything too major. The home where the 37th President was born (the very first baby born in Yorba Linda) was a citrus grove. His father, Frank Nixon worked hard to earn a living as a citrus farmer, but it was a tough task. After interviewing several docents and long-time staffers, it was decided that Hannah Nixon, the President's mother, must have had at least one kumquat tree somewhere close. I found an old reference to "Hannah's Kumquat Kitchen," but no other information was included. We have to assume that she cooked with some of the fruit that surrounded her home.

When the library grounds were taking shape, the landscapers wanted to honor it's "citrus roots". Unfortunately, the only citrus tree that could take the large amount of water necessary for all the other plantings, and especially Mrs. Nixon's roses, was the hearty, tolerant kumquat tree. Kevin Cartwright, involved in those decisions, says the kumquat came to represent all the ancestral citrus species that once lived on the site. Hazel Betts, a master gardener docent, and Bob Lyons, an original docent, still very much involved in the day to day activities, confirms this as well.

Coyote Base has been smelling way-orangey-sweet for almost a week now. When eating a kumquat right off the tree, the experience is a total flavor burst in the mouth. First the sweet rind, then the sour fruit. Wowser, wowser. It kind of makes your eyes water and your lips pucker. So, that's the reason we decided to cook them.

Kumquats are native to China and arrived in California around 1880. Today the state grows the most kumquats in this country, on about 133 acres of kumquat groves. While not widely available in grocery stores, we saw some at the Yorba Linda farmer's market. We also planted a kumquat tree in our Tucson yard.

We tried several different recipes, and decided the best, and least labor intensive was this one, that we chose to call "Presidential Kumquat Marmalade." So here it is, if you want to make some for yourself.




RECIPE:
Yield: 8 cups

Ingredients
2 lbs kumquats (4 cups)
1 lime
1 lemon
3 1/2 cups sugar
6 cups of water
1 tsp vanilla
8 1/2-pint mason jars

PREPARATION
Squeeze lemon and lime. Gather the juice and pulp.
Wash and dry kumquats.
Thinly slice them.
Remove seeds (HINT: If you cut in half, not length-wise, seeds will be on one side. I know, we were amazed too!)
Place sliced kumquats, all juice, water and sugar in a pot.
Bring to a boil.
Lower heat to medium low and cook for 15 minutes.
Remove from heat, content should be syrupy.
Cover, set aside and let sit overnight at room temperature.
Next day, bring kumquat syrup to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer to desired thickness. (Our first batch was a little watery.) Then we learned to cook it to a beautiful dark brown orange color.
Stir once in awhile, using a wooden spoon
Bring to a boil again.
Skim off any foam that develops.
Add vanilla.
Fill mason jars with marmalade.
Fill a big pot of water and bring to just under a boil. Place filled jars in water and boil for 10 minutes.
If you want to freeze the marmalade, you can skip the "canning" process.

To one batch, we added red pepper, ginger, cumin, cinnamon, apples and raisins to make a delicious chutney.



We pureed one batch and froze it for future cookies, cakes, etc.



And, how about a kumquat marmalade cocktail? Don't laugh. General Omar Bradley invented a drink using orange marmalade. He favored orange slices in his bourbon, and when he was posted to some remote area of the world, there weren't any fresh oranges. He noticed a jar of orange marmalade on the table and the resulting cocktail was named for him. It is delicious with scotch also.



Our final kumquat kount:
32 jars of kumquat marmalade
4 jars of kumquat chutney
1 large zip lock bag of pureed kumquat preserves.

We will be sharing the end product with the folks at the Library. We hope everyone will think the marmalade is as delicious as we do. It was a big project, but a fun salute to "Hannah's Kumquat Kitchen," and the hearty fruit that has come to represent Frank Nixon's citrus grove, the boyhood yard of the 37th President of the United States. Kudos to the Kumquat!

If A Picture is Worth a 1000 Words . . . .

. . . . how about a picture that's worth a million laughs!

Check out "Bridesmaid Nancy" in her dyed-to-match-her-outfit shoes, carrying her "bouquet of a gavel," while Steny Hoyer carries her purse. And when was the last time you saw grown men walking down the street holding hands?

I guess she has been working so hard, she just couldn't resist turning her face to the sun in the hopes of catching a few rays.

What they did is not one bit funny, but this picture sure is hilarious.

Happy Birthday, Mrs. Nixon

A special birthday party was held at the Richard Nixon Library and Birthplace yesterday. Over 3,400 girl scouts gathered to celebrate what would have been Pat Nixon's 98th birthday, and what was the girl scouts 98th birthday. Both will be celebrated in even greater grandeur on their centennials.


The theme this year was "Girl Scouts Go Green". Ron, wearing his President of the Foundation hat, was one of the judges for the "recycled art contest." Today's young people are amazing, creative and innovated. Using "trash" and imagination, they made American flags, villages, people, animals, panorama's and posters. The message was clear. Anything and everything can become a work of art. The other judges were Nancy Nygren, head of the Orange County Girl Scout Council, Dr. Tim Naftali, head of the archives at the Nixon library, and Anthony Curtis, Assistant Chief Operating Officer of the Nixon Foundation.


Thelma Catherine Ryan was born just before midnight on March 16, 1912. According to her daughter Julie's book "Pat Nixon, The Untold Story," her thoroughly Irish father, Will Ryan, decided to celebrate a day later, St. Patrick's Day. He said, "Well, she was there in the morning, my St. Patrick's Babe in the morning."


Thelma Ryan's childhood was a time of great loss and hard work. She was only 14 when her mother died of cancer. Four years later her father died. Will had asked his oldest son to "take care of Babe." The three Ryans did indeed stick together. In the fall of 1931, she registered at Fullerton Junior College as Patricia Ryan. Julie says that she and her sister, Tricia, learned in the 1960 campaign that their mother's name had once been Thelma. When they asked their mother about it, she said "Patricia was my father's favorite name, and she told them she wasn't Thelma anymore, she was Pat.

She and her father were so right. She WAS Pat. Our wonderful First Lady Pat. She just wasn't a Thelma, at least not to me.

In 1969, President and Mrs. Nixon were on a helicopter, flying over the National Mall in Washington, DC. She commented on the eyesore of row after row of quonset huts still being used as "temporary offices." She asked the President to see if they could be removed. The huts were soon gone, and the Mall is now a beautiful place that makes all of us proud. The Richard Nixon Foundation and key people in our Nation's Capitol are working with Congress to designate a small portion, "The Pat Nixon Memorial Garden." She is deserving of the honor and it would make us so happy to see her finally get some long, overdue recognition.

This picture, taken in 1943 or 44, was what Mrs. Nixon saw on the Mall in 1969! I remember seeing it as well, and thinking how really ugly it looked.

Another favorite Mrs. Nixon story is the one President Nixon wrote about in RN, The Memoirs of Richard Nixon. He wrote in his diary during his 1974 trip to the Soviet Union, that he and Pat had dinner alone on the balcony outside their room.

"Diary

As we looked out at sea, there was a three-quarter moon. Pat said that since she was a very little girl, when she looked at the moon, she didn't see a man in the moon or an old lady in the moon - always the American flag. This, of course, was years before anybody ever thought of a man actually being on the moon or an American flag being there.

She pointed it out to me and, sure enough, I could see an American flag in the moon. Of course, you can see in the moon whatever you want to see."

I like to think I can see Pat Nixon's American flag on the moon.

We celebrate her life, her many accomplishments, and her legacy every day at the Nixon Library and Birthplace. Her presence is felt throughout the Museum. Her quiet dignity is evident too.

Remembering General Haig

The Nixon Alumni Club lost another valued member recently. Alexander Haig. Ron and I were proud to call Al and Pat Haig friends, and it got me to thinking about them both.

Al's career has been quite amazing. He was an aide to General Douglas MacArthur and Cyrus Vance, Secretary of the Army under President Kennedy, deputy national security advisor and Chief of Staff under President Nixon, and Secretary of State under President Reagan, to name just some of his resume highlights.

During the Nixon White House years, I was privileged to get to know Pat Haig. Not only is she beautiful, in a Grace Kelly-esque sense, she is a gracious and friendly lady. It was always such a pleasure to sit with her on a plane, or see her at a social gathering.

In 1978, Ron and I were invited to re-trace President Nixon's 1972 historic trip to the People's Republic of China. Travel visa's to the PRC were still scarce, but after an event at the Chinese liaison office, Han Hsu suggested that we should visit his country. He told us he would send us visa's. Some of you may not know that Han Hsu was a close aide to Cho En-lai, and Ron's counterpart as the two countries prepared for their leaders to visit. Dwight Chapin was the White House contact person responsible for the President's trip, and Ron's boss. Han Hsu also sent visas to Dwight and Susie Chapin. We were told to be in Tokyo on May 21, 1978 to catch Iran Air flight #801 to Peking.

As we talked about making this trip, we discovered that Pan Am Flight #2 went around the world for less total cost than a single round trip flight to Tokyo. And so we booked Pan Am, leaving New York on May first. Of course, we spent more money on the ground than we saved, but it was six weeks of non-stop adventure that was worth every penny. Our first stop was London. Upon arrival, we had a message from General Haig, then the Supreme Allied Commander of NATO, living in Monns, Belgium, inviting us to visit. We had planned a week of traveling around Europe, so after arriving in Frankfurt, we immediately headed for Monns. It was a 5 and a half hour drive on the Autobahn, in our little rental car. Cars whizzed by us and Ron felt like he should get out and make sure we were moving.


You must remember that this was before GPS devices, but we had maps. Ron and Dwight would take turns driving, and the non-driver was the navigator. Susie and I took up nesting-rights in the back seat, and spent most of each hour laughing at the hilarious exchanges going on between driver and navigator. Their pronunciations of the road signs were especially funny. They argued about the various "austfahrt" whizzing by and if they missed a turn, it was always the other guys fault. We went across the German/Belguim border check point three times, because we couldn't figure out how to get back on the main road. We finally decided they must have thought we were smuggling little yellow cars from one country to the other.

When we got to Monns, we had a hard time finding the Haig's Chateau. We were lost in a residential area when a car pulled out of a garage and Dwight said the driver looked like he spoke english. Ron jumped out and asked the man if he knew where General Haig lived? Blank stare. Then Ron pantomimed all the decorations on his hat and the row of stars on his shoulders. A-ha! He pointed and gestured and we were off, soon to find our destination.


Their home was used as a German Headquarters during the war and renovated when General Goodpaster was head of NATO. We had lovely rooms, with the Haig's White House and military mementos all around. Dinner was beautiful and delicious; cheese soup, steak, fried potato balls, salad, green beans, red wine and sherbet for dessert. (If you wonder how I can be so precise, it is because my mother saved the letter I wrote, complete with the menu.)

General Haig talked a great deal about the days just before the President resigned. I wrote to our family that he said he was in charge at the White House during those days. (Honest) He talked a great deal about it, almost as if he was so happy to have people that he could talk about it with.

We all had breakfast together the next morning at 7:45. The general was in his 4 star uniform, as he had a 9:00 meeting that morning with the Danish press. We left soon after he did, and talked a great deal about how candid he had been with us, and how it was so obvious that he trusted us and knew we would not betray his confidences. We never have.


I must admit, that when he announced that he was in charge after President Reagan was shot, I thought about how he'd been in charge of another White House, after another traumatic incident.

To this day, our family occasionally uses the "Haig-in-charge" reference. Just this past Christmas, while fixing Julia Child's Boeuf Bourguignon, Marja made it clear that she was the "Al Haig of this cooking project." Seems that the one who thinks of being in charge first, announces it, indeed gets to be the General! And this was a fun project, because we said everyone had to talk just like Julia the entire time the famous dish was being prepared. It was hilarious.


Through the years, Al and Pat Haig came to parties at our home, and we always enjoyed seeing them. A very memorable time was one year at our sometimes annual "Cinco de Mayo" party when Al regaled our daughters friends with stories from the days that he and Ron flew helicopters together in Vietnam. Despite Al's colorful descriptions, it didn't happen. Ron's branch of the army was armored, (think tanks), and he was an airborne officer assigned to a psychological warfare unit on Okinawa, Thailand and Vietnam. The only time he and Al ever served together was in the Nixon White House.

Al was famous for loving to use big words and weaving long sentences together. He had a friendly, running word-smith battle with Secretary of Commerce Malcolm Baldrige.

When I worked for Secretary Baldrige, he stressed the importance of the government speaking in "plain English." He had a list of his "no-no words" and if someone entered them in the Office of Public Affairs computers, they came out as capitalized X's. Words like "maximize,""utilize" or "effectuate" The Secretary thought making his people write in plain English was just simple, good management. He also despised redundancies such as "serious crisis," "future plans," "new initiatives" or "end result"

I tell you this because Baldrige liked to talk about Al Haig. He would say, "Now Al can be just as direct and straightforward as anybody. But when he thought the occasion demanded it, he could obfuscate or cloud up the answer by the way he used the language. I've had a lot of fun with Al."



The secretary told his Alexander Haig story so often that it was filed with his speeches with the single word "Haig." He would start out speeches by saying that he was "sorry that my friend Al Haig could not have attended today. But he sends his regrets. 'I deeply regret that I am unable to optimize this point in time to achieve a meaningful interface with your multifaceted organization in its function of facilitating clear and direct articulation of the English language system.' Then Baldrige would pause, look at his audience and say, " I think he means he won't be able to make it."

Secretary Baldrige instructed us staffers to write in a style halfway between Ernest Hemingway and Zane Grey, and to use no "Bureaucratise." We bought up every paperback by Grey we could find in the blocks around the Commerce Department, trying to make sure we knew what was expected of us.

I learned a great deal from my Baldrige experience, but in the long run I think we write like we write and we talk like we talk. It makes us, well, us. General Haig had an amazing vocabulary and he seemed to delight in stringing lots of words together in one sentence. One evening as he spoke to a group of Korn/Ferry International partners and spouses, at the end of a very long sentence, I turned to Ron and said, "Huh?" He quietly suggested I zip my lip, and I did.

General Haig was a true patriot and memorable man who served his country well. He will be missed.