reagan ranch

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    48 S E A S O N S

    R

    ancho del Cielo,

    (Ranch in the Sky)

    sits at an elevation of

    approximately 2,300

    feet, on 688 acres of remote backcountry in Santa Barbara, Cali-

    fornia. The harrowing, often fog

    shrouded, 7 mile drive is laced

    with hairpin turns, boulders and

    breathtaking views of the Santa

    Ynez Valley and Pacific Ocean.

    A mile up, it’s obvious why this

    magical retreat is not open to the

    public. It would be several hours

    later before I’d fully realize how

    privileged I had been to experi-

    ence it. I had traveled there in

    search of a place and discovered,

    instead, the soul of a man… a

    man who, along the way, hap-

    pened to become President of the

    United States.

    On first glimpse, the house ap-

    pears shockingly small, and at

    RANCHO DEL CIELO

     Story and photography by Judy Crowell  President Ronald Reagan photos courtesy ofYoung America’s Foundation

    a mere 1,500 square feet, touch-

    ingly intimate. An L shaped porch

    fronts the 1970’s Western entry,

    warm and inviting in “Nancy”

    red décor, the only room whereguests were entertained. The liv-

    ing room was their inner sanctum,

    containing paintings of Western

    landscapes, a gun cabinet and the

    famous jellybean jar within arms

    reach of the couch. Only a select

    few were allowed.

    Evidence of the character of thisman is everywhere. In the master

    bedroom, a king size bed is com-

    prised of two twins joined. No

    need to buy another bed when

    they already had two. Mattress too

    short? A bench at the foot of the

    bed could handle the long presi-

    dential legs.

    Standing in the two-person

    kitchen, you’re surrounded by

    1970’s Harvest Gold appliances,

    reminders of his days with General

    Electric. Perfect for whipping up a

    favorite macaroni and cheese.

    His gentle sense of humor made

    me smile at every turn: at the

    front door plaque (On this site in

    1897 nothing happened), on the

    riding lawnmower bearing the

    presidential seal and on a hilarious

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    S E A S O N S  49

  • 8/18/2019 Reagan Ranch

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    50 S E A S O N S

    poster, a spoof of “Gone With The

    Wind”, showing him rescuing a

    fainting Margaret Thatcher, Prime

    Minister of England.A round leather table on the front

    porch is where the largest tax cut

    in American history, the 1980’s

    Economic Recovery Act, was

    signed. When asked at the ranch

    what his proudest accomplishment

    in life was, he would look around

    the ranch, viewing the count-

    less improvements he had made

    himself, and answer, building the

    dock and surrounding fences outof telephone poles on the original

    property. An oft told story in-

    volves a heart shaped stone at the

    base of a sycamore tree planted to

    commemorate their 25th wedding

    anniversary. His gift to Nancy, a

    canoe, dubbed the Tru Luv, was put

    to use that evening when he rowed

    her out on Lucky Lake to propose

    once again. She had always wanted

    to be proposed to on a lake and he

    was every inch a romantic.

    Early in the mornings, after presi-

    dential homework was completed,

    he’d climb the hill to the stables,

    prepare his Arabian, El Alamein, a

    gift from the President of Mexico,

    for a ride and ring the antique

    train bell belonging originally to

    Nancy’s father, for her to join him

    on the trail. Following their ride,

    Nancy would head back to the

    house to fix breakfast, while the

    President looked after their horses.He received many saddles as gifts,

    riding each one once, always Eng-

    lish saddle.

    Stories of him assisting Secret

    Service agents who would fall off

    their horses while on duty are end-

    less. Once he phoned a new agent,

    wanting to personally welcome

    him. The agent was so thrilled to

    be meeting “Rawhide”, the Presi-

    dent’s code name, that he came

    barreling down the hill, standing

    up on the stirrups…both no nos.

    The horse tripped in a ditch at the

    bottom of the hill, throwing the

    agent over the horse’s head, land-

    ing him upright on his feet, still

    holding the reins. The President,

    impressed, turned to his agent and

    friend, John Barletta, and said,

    “Say John, does he always dis-

    mount that way?”

    It was John’s sad duty, when Nancy

    couldn’t bring herself to do it andAlzheimers was taking its toll, to

    tell the President that he could

    no longer ride horseback safely.

    Displaying his lifelong empathy for

    others, the President turned to his

    agent, who was visibly distraught,

    put his hands on his shoulders and

    said, “It’s OK, John. I know.”

    It struck me that the ranch and the

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    S E A S O N S  51

    man were one. Both simple and

    pure and good, with no room for

    pretense. No room for guile. No

    room for ego.

    Ronald Reagan was the same

    person whether with Mikhail

    Gorbachev, Queen Elizabeth II

    or a stable groom. Everyone got

    the same respect. More than any

    President in recent memory, I

    believe that his public and private

    personas were the same. To some

    with a more intellectual bent, that

    may have been a problem. To the

    many, it was his strength and the

    source of his becoming known as

    the Great Communicator.

    Following Reagan’s death, and

    through the contributions of

    generous supporters, the ranch was

    purchased by the Young America’s

    Foundation, a non-profit, non-

    political organization dedicated

    to promoting the conservative

    movement to young people, ideals

    embodied by the life of Ronald

    Reagan. As stated on their web-

    site, www.yaf.org, “Rancho del

    Cielo serves as both a living his-

    tory lesson and a testament to the

    true character of Ronald Reagan.”

    How privileged I was to walk in

    his steps.