Breakfast with Ford

by Erin Sommers

“He saved the nation,” declares The Grand Rapids Press honoring Gerald R. Ford Jr, on news of his death December 26. The tagline reads: “Gerald R. Ford Jr., who led country out of Watergate, dies at 93.” Dominating the front page spread is a portrait of the man gazing into the distance, smiling at all the nation has yet to see, a flag as his backdrop. 

One thing to know about me: if I’m to compare my knowledge of politics and current events to what I would like it to be, I’m politically impaired. I don’t subscribe to the paper back home in sunny California. If I hadn’t been visiting my parents for the holidays, I would most likely have driven past the local bank’s half-mast flag without a second thought. The FOX News RSS feed that daily appears on my screen saver is one of the only ways news has a chance of breaking into my life. The headlines selected for the feed are often a mix of special interest and breaking news. As hard as it is to admit, I’ll often end up reading special coverage of a celebrity wedding before selecting an article with any real weight.

But this headline captured me. Perhaps it was the portrait that drew me in, or the apparent legacy. The paper was sitting on the table as I ate breakfast, and I couldn’t ignore the pull. As I read the news of Ford’s death, I realized why the largest paper of his hometown-Grand Rapids, Michigan-would dedicate over a dozen pages to marking the legacy of a former president. There were photos of him as a high school football star, and others of him on his wedding day and much later at his 90th birthday. Overall, it was a timeline of his life: of what he did, and what he loved.

Growing up in Grand Rapids guarantees a visit to the Gerald R. Ford Museum. I had taken a tour in elementary school, but had never returned. Through the tribute that had found its way into my Wednesday morning, I found myself being introduced to the man of whom I knew little more than name and title.  My cereal finished, I found myself pouring over section after section set aside for telling Ford’s story. It was captivating to see a life, one of such a prominent and successful individual, summarized by subheadings and captions. I made an attempt to learn the names of Ford’s children, to read the stories of his parents and their involvement in his life, his colleagues, his wife-all in hopes of coming to my own conclusion of who he was through understanding his character, and how he did what the headlined claimed.

So I read, and yes, he saved the nation-in a completely unexpected way. Not from invasion, terrorism, or nuclear destruction. It was more about how he saved it than what he saved it from. In the wake of Watergate and the resignation of Richard Nixon, Ford was left with a desk full of tapes and papers and a very important decision: how to proceed with Nixon’s legal doom. On Sept. 8, 1974, Ford granted Nixon “a full, free, and absolute pardon.” In his public announcement he included the statement, “It can go on and on and on, or someone must write the end to it. I have concluded that only I can do that. And if I can, I must.”

I find myself wrestling with his decision. My first reaction is one of frustration, convinced Ford refused to seek justice.  But then a picture of grace comes to mind, one illustrated in Les Miserables, as a priest faces the man who just hours ago had robbed him.  Instead of condemning the criminal back to the work yards, the priest denies all charges, and sends him off with twice the value the man had stolen, not because it was easy, not because he condoned robbery, but to illustrate the larger picture: God’s forgiveness.

Ford embraced this kind of grace in his pardoning of Nixon. It’s the kind of grace that comes from a greater understanding of how an individual plays into the flow of history, how nations are healed, how time moves forward, and how looking ahead is sometimes the best thing you can do for everyone involved. Ford faced a truth that is hard to live out: it’s not about us. He understood that even as the president of the United States, he was only a small part of something larger than himself, not unlike a priest who acts not on what he wants, or feels, but rather, what must be done for the greater good. It would have been easy to become heady with power upon realizing that he and he alone held the ability to determine the outcome of his predecessor’s fate. He could sway with his advisors and drive Nixon through months of legal proceedings, or he could brave the path of forgiveness.

Forgiveness is not always becoming of a president. Ford didn’t enjoy the popularity he had anticipated. He wasn’t reelected, and his decision was criticized, but he did what he thought was right. His decision was made in hopes of moving forward, and we did.

I won’t make it back to the Gerald R. Ford museum while I’m visiting Grand Rapids, but I am thankful for the front-page reminder of justice and grace.  And I’m honored that Gerald R. Ford showed up to breakfast, when I was able to really meet the man who once shared my hometown, saved the nation and illustrated full, free, and absolute forgiveness.