- Main Page \ Reagan Radio Commentaries \ 1978
Father and Son[edit]
Transcript[edit]
Not too long ago on one of these broadcasts I quoted an anonymous source
to the effect that if all of us knew on a certain day the world was ending,
the roads, streets and telephone lines would be jammed with people trying to
reach someone to say "I love you". Since then some of you have written to
express agreement with that unknown author. And some have begun a sentence
with the words, "If only I had" (or "hadn't" as the case might be).
Back in World War II a father wrote a letter to his soldier son in the
form of a poem:
Dear Son:
I wish I had the power to write
The thoughts wedged in my heart tonight
As I sit watching that small star
And wondering where and how you are.
You know, Son, it's a funny thing
How close a war can really bring
A Father, who for years with pride,
Has kept emotions deep inside.
I'm sorry, Son, when you were small
I let reserve build up that wall;
I told you real men never cried,
And it was Mom who always dried
Your tears and smoothed your hurts away
So that you soon went back to play.
But, Son, deep down within my heart
I longed to have some little part
In drying that small tear-stained face,
But we were men--men don't embrace.
And suddenly I found my Son
A full grown man, with childhood done.
Tonight you're far across the sea,
Fighting a war for men like me.
Well, somehow pride and what is right
Have changed places here tonight
I find my eyes won't stay quite dry
And that men sometimes really cry.
And if we stood here, face to face
I'm sure, my Son, we would embrace.
Son, Dads are quite a funny lot,
And if I've failed you on some spot
It's not because I loved you less
But just this cussed manliness.
And if I had the power to write
The thoughts wedged in my heart tonight,
The words would ring out loud and true
I'm proud, my Son, yes proud of you."
He signed it "Dad" and walked down to the corner and dropped it in the
mail box. As he returned home and reached his own door step he was handed a
War department telegram; the kind that began with the fateful words "We regret
to inform you... "
I'm glad I can believe his son knew he had written that letter.
This is Ronald Reagan.
Thanks for listening.
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