Who Was Ronald Reagan?

Who Was Ronald Reagan?

Book - 2005
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Who was Ronald Reagan? A young lifeguard who saved over fifty people's lives? An actor who starred in fifty-three motion pictures and over sixty television shows? One of the most beloved presidents of the twentieth century? All of the above! Find out more about the real Ronald Reagan in this illustrated biography.
Publisher: New York : Penguin Workshop, [2005]
Copyright Date: ©2005
ISBN: 9780448433448
0448433443
9780448433455
0448433451
9781424221431
1424221439
9781415583081
1415583080
9781442052024
1442052023
9781417713813
141771381X
9781536420081
1536420085
9780756954772
0756954770
9780329409074
0329409077
9780448481227
0448481227
Branch Call Number: j Biography R228m
Characteristics: 106 pages : illustrations, maps ; 20 cm
Additional Contributors: Wolf, Elizabeth 1954-- Illustrator
Alternative Title: Ronald Reagan

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candlesticktroughs
May 14, 2018

It was early in the summer of 1971. I had a Schwinn Stingray bike with a banana seat. It was gold -painted. I bicycled down to El Camino Real, where the side street was opposite St. Matthews Church and School, on the west side. It was about 11am, but the sun had been out early, so my legs were quite tanned below my cutoff jeans. At first i looked across the busy boulevard, trying to guage my ability to race across it safely. Then my attention was drawn to a brown-haired middle-aged white man standing at a podium next to a statue i'd never seen there before. As i regarded him, he moved his head awkwardly from side to side, as if he were a horse, bridling. He looked to his side, at me. I was at least forty feet away. He had lost his place in his speech. The moment passed. I raced across El Camino Real to Central Park and i had a great, sunny day, there. I was good looking when i was young. I had freckles and blonde -brown, rather long hair. I want you to know he didn't only do that awkward yet idiosyncratic movement with his neck and head, after he had gotten old. in 1971 he wasn't old yet. i wasn't particularly politically conscious. that is, i didn't say to myself, wow, i just saw the governor of California! i was just being me, alone on an outing on a nice peninsula day . the only politician i knew of was a dead man: RFK, who my mother had cried so profusely about, on top of her big white stove, crying into wet, dripping dishrag, as, 500 miles south of where we were, Bobby fought his hopeless fight for life.

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