Bob Grant
Wednesday, June 9, 2004

But since my ego isn’t that big, I’ll take credit only for playing a minor, and probably dispensable, part in keeping on track the career of this giant.

Difficult as it is to imagine now, the man who will forever be identified as the Great Communicator was far from that when he came onto my KABC radio show in Los Angeles.

He needed help, lots of it, and I did my best to provide it – never dreaming I was giving an assist to someone who, largely thanks to his persuasive powers, would one day free much of the communist world.

Step back with me to the late fall of 1965, when my KABC producer was contacted by PR man Bill Roberts, who asked if we’d be interested in interviewing Ronald Reagan.

Roberts was politely told that the show was oriented toward politics, not entertainment or celebrities. He replied that he was well aware of that, but that he was calling not on behalf of actor Ronald Reagan but of gubernatorial candidate Ronald Reagan.

So – those vague rumors we’d heard were, in fact, true: The actor till then best known as "the Gipper" in the movie "Knute Rockne, All American" was really going for it!

Naturally, we were enthusiastic about being players in this pioneering venture: a movie performer actually seeking the governorship of the huge state of California!

I recall the details of that Dec. 14, 1965, show more clearly than my broadcasts of last month, or even last week, here on WOR in New York.

In my mind’s eye I still see that well-liked, but less-than-top-rung, actor with the political ambitions striding into my studio resplendent in tweed jacket, riding pants and a burgundy turtleneck.

His presence was overwhelming, even then; yet he was sincere and humble in a way one rarely sees in Hollywood figures.

Ronald Reagan was just one nice guy, and a consummate charmer.

But, unfortunately, his articulateness and political dexterity did not, at least then and in that format, match his commanding presence.

Maybe if it had been television, his body language would have masked the shortfall, but this was call-in radio – and Ronald Reagan was a groping novice when it came to fielding the totally unpredictable calls of my quirky and highly diverse listenership.

I covered for this fledgling politician as best I could. Not just for the professional imperative of maintaining a seamless show, but because I’d taken an instant liking to the guy and earnestly wished his success.

But my efforts were apparently not good enough to withstand the scrutiny of hard-nosed listeners.

One such woman called and suggested: "You know what? You two guys should trade places. You, Bob Grant, should be running for governor, and you, Ronald Reagan, ought to be the announcer."

Now, whatever verbal gaffes this novice had committed up until that point were largely offset when he chuckled and said: "You know what, madam? I think maybe you’re right."

I’d wager that that humble, good-natured response won the hearts of thousands of listeners – including that skeptical woman herself.

And that’s why I cannot, in all honesty, claim that I "saved" the candidacy of Ronald Reagan.

Yes, that first major media appearance could have gone a lot worse without my input, maybe even disastrously worse.

But somehow an individual with such overwhelming charisma would have found a way out of that mess or any other. His captivating countenance had "destiny" written all over it.

Nor was there a whit of insincerity in Ronald Reagan’s charm.

After that KABC broadcast, for example, he freely acknowledged his performance had been flawed, and he thanked me for the support I’d provided at difficult moments.

"You know, Mr. Grant, you’ve been very kind to me," he said. "I appreciate what you did. And if I become the party’s candidate, I’ll come back on the program, if you still want me." (As if there could be any doubts as to my feelings on the matter!)

That’s one promise he won’t have to keep, sniffed the cynics at the studio, who thought the actor was delusional in his quest for California’s highest office.

In a poll taken at the time, he ran next to last in a field of seven vying for the Republican nomination, the favorite being George Christopher, San Francisco’s popular mayor.

But, as we all know, Ronald Reagan won that primary handily.

And one of his first acts was to keep his promise to reappear on my show.

That second time around he was far more adroit on-air. I sensed that here indeed was one quick learner.

The way he mastered the call-in format in that short time foreshadowed how he would, in a relatively brief period, master not only the governor’s office – which he went on to capture from popular incumbent Pat Brown by a whopping million votes – but, eventually, the highest office in the land.

The next time I saw Ronald Reagan was in 1976 in New York City, where I’d been broadcasting for several years.

It was in Republican headquarters in Brooklyn and he was running against Gerald Ford for the presidential nomination.

Despite his meteoric rise, he’d never forgotten the guy whose show he’d appeared on when he was a nobody, politically speaking.

Again, he thanked me for the support I’d given him a decade earlier, and we chatted into the night.

Our next meeting was four years later, when I had the honor of introducing him to a Republican fund-raiser in the Bronx.

This was shortly before he was to, finally, win the Republican nomination and, of course, go on to trounce incumbent President Jimmy Carter. But even at this near-apex, here was the same humble guy who had sauntered into my studio back in '65, living that impossible dream of his.

It’s a bit of a cliché to characterize someone as saying what he means and meaning what he says – but there’s simply no other way to capture the essence of Ronald Reagan.

Has there ever been a greater manifestation of that ideal than his legendary "Mr. Gorbachev, take down this wall!" speech?

Could any other world figure have spoken those very same words as effectively – with the spectacular results that followed?

My entire career has been built on verbally communicating ideas. Look on any major op-ed page or letters-to-the-editor column and you’ll see opinions as strong and provocative as the ones I’ve been sending across the talk radio airwaves all these decades.

Yet – if I can be forgiven a bit of that aforementioned immodesty – I haven’t the slightest anxiety that any of those columnists or letter-writers will take away my job.

There’s a world of difference between formulating powerful opinions and being able to convincingly put them across.

And that’s why I feel a double kinship with Ronald Reagan.

Yes, I played a tiny role in his ascendancy – but even if I’d never personally encountered him, there’d be that affinity of someone who feels himself a bit blessed in the art of communication toward one who many regard as the greatest communicator ever.

Ronald Wilson Reagan was just that. And, maybe more important, just one terrific human being.

Talk radio legend Bob Grant is a drive-time host on New York’s WOR.

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