RIP Betty Ford
Former First Lady Betty Ford has died at the age of 93. She was catapulted to fame through an unlikely and unique set of circumstances, her husband appointed VP by Nixon after the disgraced Agnew was forced to leave, and then seguing into the presidency after Watergate forced Nixon’s own departure. So America didn’t get to know the couple the usual way, through a long campaign.
Most obituaries mention the fact that Betty Ford was very likable and outspoken, and she was. She was also matter-of-fact about her flaws, such as an addiction to pain-killers and an alcohol problem. But instead of a lot of weeping and wailing she was solution-focused, setting up the Betty Ford Center for drug and alcohol treatment in 1982, a few years after her husband’s defeat by Jimmy Carter.
Robert Stacy McCain at The Other McCain writes, “‘Dancer’ is probably not the first thing you think of when you think of Betty Ford…” But for me, it actually is—for obvious reasons. It was probably the first thing I ever learned about her, and it endeared her to me.
And Ford was no slouch at dance, either. She was a serious student of the renowned modern dance pioneer Martha Graham:
After being accepted by Graham as a student, Ford moved to Manhattan’s Chelsea neighborhood and worked as a fashion model for the John Robert Powers firm in order to finance her dance studies. She joined Graham’s auxiliary troupe and eventually performed with the company at Carnegie Hall.
This was certainly a unique history for a First Lady. Photos such as the following (neither of which I’d ever seen before today) make it clear just how unique. The first is from her dancing past, in a costume of her own design:
And the second is during her tenure as First Lady, a moment of levity in the Cabinet room:
RIP.
Class.
My best friend met Betty Ford when she and Gerald Ford lived in a travel trailer (!?) in order to meet with his constituents in the more rural areas outside Grand Rapids. She was a gracious lady.
I miss First Ladies like that.
Unfortunately, like most artistes, she put herself above propriety. See the photo of her on the table in the WH Cabinet room. At least she took her shoes off.
That’s the self-centeredness which usually is a major feature of drug and/or alcohol addicts. As is the self-pitying victimization; in Betty’s case, being left ‘alone’ in Grand Rapids. It was really Gerald’s fault, right? Wrong; it was hers.
Not classy at all. Can’t see Jackie O doing that, can you?
I agree with Don Carlos. The first thing I thought when I saw a First Lady standing on that table was, “Was she drinking at the time?” Reminds me of Markie Post and friends jumping on the bed in the Lincoln bedroom during Clinton’s tenure. Complete lack of class.
Hm. Personally, I don’t think a little private exuberance displays a lack of class. You comparison falls short; I could never have seen Betty Ford marrying Aristotle Onassis if Gerry had died. But then, maybe Jackie-O was just getting even for the humiliation of Ms Monroe cooing Happy Birthday to her hubby in a sewn-on dress . . . classy bunch, those Kennedys.
I will say this about Mrs. Ford. She did make it fashionable to publically admit one’s addictions and to get help for same. Whether that is a good thing is probably in the eye of the beholder.
Which of those was private? Standing on a table having your picture taken for publication or jumping on the bed in the People’s House. If they were in there own private house on their own private furniture I would have no issue with it at all.
Wiki defines classy thus:
“Possessing elegance, the attribute of being tastefully designed, decorated and maintaining refined grace and dignified propriety.”
Webster: “Having or reflecting high standards of personal behavior.”
I rest my case.
Classy is not unplayful and anal retentive. I find the pic of her on the table a refreshing one that says something positive about her personality.
Michelle would probably break the table if she did that.
Yes, I went there.
SteveH:
You are entitled to your own opinion, but not your own vocabulary. I was trying to make a modest point: while Betty was many things, “classy” doesn’t fit. There is nothing in its definitions about unplayfulness, anal retentivity, or being refreshing. Classy has to do with propriety.
Classy only means you don’t get to undo my buttons unless you make a very substantial amount.
Actually I wish she’d kept her mouth shut about the drinking. It’s now glamourous and darn near a rite of passage to go to rehab.