August, beautiful, at moments overpowering–that was how it felt inside the cathedral. Perhaps you had to have worked for the first President Bush, as I did, to have appreciated his remarks, but he was–himself. Simple, unaffected, funny. He was no doubt embarrassed by having to pause to pull himself together, but that moment demonstrated the authenticity of his tribute–and caused people such as me, who loved both men, to come apart for a moment ourselves.
The effect of Lady. Thatcher’s presence alone–elegant but stooped, and, as she processed up the main aisle at the beginning of the service and then again as she departed at the end, obviously in need of the steadying arm of her escort–represented an eloquent testimony. But her eulogy proved stunning–beautiful, stately, personal, overwhelming. After the service, my old speechwriting collegues, Josh Gilder, Clark Judge, and I agreed that Lady Thatcher’s remarks represented one of the most powerful examples of oratory any of us had encountered –and during the service her remarks three grown men to tears.