The Dick Cheney I knew

In June of 1989, shortly after Dick Cheney became secretary of defense and appointed me Pentagon spokesman, one of our senior policy officials had a request.

A newspaper reporter wanted to know what was behind a new effort by the George H. W. Bush administration to reach a nuclear weapons agreement with the Soviet Union. The official sought my permission to provide some background.  

I relayed the request to Secretary Cheney, who had confidence in this senior official. He gave his OK but cautioned, “Make absolutely sure our guy talks it over with the White House and the State Department first to get a clear idea of what he can say.”

The following Sunday morning, the paper revealed that the president would soon propose the idea of first nailing down how to verify a weapons reduction — which had been the sticking point in the past — then negotiating the actual size of the drawdown.

President Bush intended to reveal that strategy in a speech Monday at the UN, and he was strongly displeased to see it spelled out beforehand. I received a call at home informing me that the senior official and I were to report to Secretary Cheney’s office first thing Monday.

We walked in and sat down, bracing for the worst. I thought to myself, it’s been a great three months in this job but now it’s over.

“The President of the United States is very angry with you both about the newspaper story,” Cheney told us. After a long and uncomfortable pause, he added, “But I told the president it was my idea.”

He could have said it was the fault of two rookie staffers. But he took the blame, saving us from ourselves. 

When the boss you serve cleans up after your mistakes, you can bet it inspires loyalty. Dick Cheney demonstrated that kind of decency and concern for the people who served him throughout his more than 40 years in public life. 

Washington has always attracted ambitious people driven by a desire to serve their country, and no one can thrive in such a complicated place entirely alone. As the most successful people rise through the ranks, they benefit from the help of mentors and aides.  

But many of those who become big names in Washington acquire staffers and colleagues, only to discard them as they rise in stature, the way children cast aside clothes as they grow up.  

Not Dick Cheney. As he navigated the corridors of the capital, his circle of friends steadily grew. He did not abandon those who helped him along the way, instead adding to an expanding network of allies. 

Nor did he turn his back on Wyoming. His fellow members of the Natrona County High School class of 1959 went to more events at the White House and the vice-president’s residence than most people in Washington ever do. 

Case in point: The day after George W. Bush chose Cheney to be his running mate in 2000, Casper was their very first campaign stop. 

His service as vice-president was undoubtedly controversial. But there can be no serious question about his dedication to serving the nation with honesty and integrity. David Broder, the veteran Washington Post political columnist, said Cheney had “an emotional balance and mental discipline remarkable for anyone in the ego-ridden and risk-strewn field of government.”

Some critics called him the Darth Vader of the administration. He said he was OK with that, adding “It’s one of the nicer things I’ve been called.” He even showed up dressed as the Star Wars character for a “Tonight Show” interview with Jay Leno in 2011. That didn’t surprise me, because he had a sly, self-deprecating sense of humor. 

He often told a story about attending a political event when he ran for re-election as Wyoming’s congressman. He said he walked up to one old rancher, stuck out his hand, and said, “I’m Dick Cheney. I’m running for Congress, and I’d appreciate your vote.”

He said the rancher replied, “You’ve got it. That guy who’s in there now is no damned good.”

The discipline he showed in public service, his patience and deliberateness, was undoubtedly part of the appeal for him of fly fishing. When I turned 50, he presented me with an elaborate document inviting me to come along on a day’s fishing trip.

I told him that the best gift I could give him was to politely decline, because I was no fisherman and I would undoubtedly have ruined the day for him by talking too much. While he was unfailingly polite, he was never much for small talk — especially on the river.  

In my seven years of working for him in Congress and the Pentagon, I seldom came away from meeting with him without thinking that I’d learned something about politics and government. 

Lynne Cheney captured that notion perfectly when she introduced her husband at the 2000 Republican convention. 

“Conversations with Dick have a way of taking unexpected turns,” she said.  “Problems get redefined, and you find yourself thinking about things in new ways. I cannot imagine the discussion that would not benefit from his presence.”

Pete Williams serves on WyoFile’s board of directors. Neither he, nor any other member of the board, have the authority to direct or determine coverage.