Posted By:
Catherine Moy
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As I stood in front of him, I saw just another man. His eyes were bright with sincerity, his face more weathered than the TV shows. I was without the nerves I felt all night when I woke every hour on the hour.

The White House invited me and many others who support the military for a breakfast and meeting with President Bush, First Lady Laura Bush, and Vice President Dick Cheney on Tuesday. (The lefties who marched against our country in anti-war, anti-Bush, anti-Cheney, pro-abortion, pro-Che Guevara rallies last weekend weren’t invited.

Imagine that? And they’re upset? Get a grip).

I didn’t think about what I would say when I met them, so I spoke off the cuff.

“Mr. President, I am Catherine Moy from Fairfield, Calif., home of Travis AFB. I am Communications Director for Move America Forward, the largest . . ..”

He smiled and put his arm around me. He thanked MAF and all of the nation’s patriots for supporting our troops.

“Mr. President. I want to thank you for your patience in this war against radical Muslim Jihadists. As you said from the beginning, this will be a long war. I also want to thank you for your patience in waiting to take a picture with me.”

Bush laughed, a Texas laugh, and squeezed my shoulder. He felt like an old friend. And why not? He has protected my skin for seven years. Another friend tried taking a picture, but my camera’s battery went dead. Classic.
I was satisfied standing close to the most powerful person in the world, his arm tight on my shoulder. We chatted. Then the White House’s official photographer came around.

“OK California. Here we go,” President Bush said to me. We turned toward the photographer, who snapped away.

I had watched all morning as President Bush spoke to us, then shared time with individuals. Many had lost a son or daughter in Iraq or Afghanistan. After meeting with the president, who hugged and kissed them, many walked away with tears streaking their faces, their souls touched by the man who so loves our country, he sent their children to fight for it. .Some looked as if a weight were lifted from their tired, broken hearts. Their legs moved slowly, as through setting concrete, their arms close to the chest that President Bush had held close.

The sight moved me. I remember the pictures that ran in the Vacaville Reporter, for which I write a regular column, of Cindy Sheehan hugging and snuggling with President Bush. That was before she was poisoned by politics and a need to run from the grief that still grips her.

“It’s important people hear from you. It’s important people hear your voice.  And I want to thank you for organizing,” Bush said in his speech on the White House South Lawn. “I want to thank you not only for the grassroots support of our families; I want to thank you for going up to Capitol Hill. And here’s a message I hope you deliver:  The commander-in-chief wants to succeed, and the commander-in-chief takes seriously the recommendations of our military commanders.”

The crowd loved Bush because they love America. We cheered and spontaneously broke out in chants of, “USA.USA.” Men who lost their legs in the war against America’s Muslim enemies offered a standing ovation. Mothers and fathers whose sons gave their lives rose to their feet and shouted. World War II vets, civilians fighting the enemy within – the Cindy Sheehan’s of the world – pumped fists.

After breakfast, I met with Mrs. Bush, who exudes class. She wore a pantsuit, but might as well have been sporting a Versace gown. She was gracious, soft, but strong.

Me, Laura Bush and Deborah Johns, Director of Military Relations, Move America Forward

I noted a long, fresh surgical wound on her neck, stretching from her hairline down her back. Secret Service grabbed the arms of admirers who hugged Mrs. Bush and gently glided them down her back to avoid causing her pain. She hurt, but invited us into what she called the People’s House.

A First Lady gives so much to the country.

No visit to the White House would be complete with out rubbing elbows with Cheney. I introduced myself.

“Mr. Vice President, you and I almost danced once. During your first inauguration. You know, when you and Dubya stole the election,” I said, winking.

Everybody laughed. Even the Secret Service. Cheney gave that cock-eyed smile. The official photographer yelled out, what’s your name?

“Catherine Moy – rhymes with Joy!!!”

Cheney and I chatted. He had a comfortable manner, like my Texas relatives. Sweet, loving. Hillary Clinton called him Darth Vader this week. Haha. Michael Moore must stop writing her comedic lines. Seems she hasn’t taken the time to speak with the Vice President. Or she’s a liar. Or both.

I left the White House Tuesday knowing we are in good hands. The best. Thank God.