I just learned that Barbara Bush died, which, given her age, was not unexpected. She had asked not to have any additional medical treatments. Earlier today, I wrote my reflections on my encounter with her many years ago.

As most people agree, she was an elegant and forthright lady, in the old sense of the word “lady.”

I have a Barbara Bush memory to share.

I was Assistant Secretary of Education for the Office of Education Research and Improvement during the George H.W. Bush administration. One day, I got a call from Secretary Lamar Alexander’s Office, asking me if I was available to fly to Houston with Mrs. Bush and fill in for her at an event where she was supposed to speak. Yes, I was.

I was told that a car would pick me up early the next morning and take me to Andrews Air Force Base in Maryland, where her plane was based. I packed a bag and was ready to go the next day. There, I boarded Air Force 2, Mrs. Bush’s plane. Minutes later, Mrs. Bush arrived with her press secretary. It was not a large plane. The three of us sat at a table and talked for the duration of the flight.

When I am with a stranger of eminence, like Mrs. Bush, I tend to fall into a pattern of interviewing them. So, I spent the 3-4 hours interviewing Mrs. Bush. What stuck in my mind were her answers to my questions about Nancy Reagan. “Oh, poor Nancy,” she said, exaggerating her sympathy for a woman she didn’t seem to like.

She was sharp-tongued, candid, and no-nonsense.

When we landed in Houston, a limousine pulled up at the foot of the stairs and whisked us to a junior high school, where she was expected. A big billbillboard with plastic letters boldly proclaimed, “Welcome, Mrs. Bush,” and a mariachi band played as she walked in, with me tagging along. I recall that many students (largely Hispanic) lined the path to the door, eager to get a glimpse of her. As she walked down the line, the students held out their hands, and she slapped each of them.

We went from class to class, on a pre-arranged tour. Then we sat in a classroom with teachers and students. One of them asked her what she carried in her handbag. She dumped out the contents on the table, and there was nothing out of the ordinary.

After the school visit, she went back to her plane to meet the President at a special event at the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, and I filled in for her at (I think) the annual dinner of Communities in Schools. They must have been very disappointed, having me as a fill-in for the First Lady.

Some years later, I was visiting my family in Houston, and they offered to show me the home where George and Barbara Bush lived. As we passed by, I saw her outside, and I jumped out to say hello. I can’t say for certain that she remembered me, although she said she did.

We had something in common that we didn’t discuss. She lost a beloved daughter to leukemia at the age of 3. I lost a beloved son to the same dreadful disease when he was two. The pain of that loss never goes away. At the time, medical science offered no hope. Things have changed, and now most of these babies survive. Too late for our children. But I am sure that she was as grateful as I that this scourge is no longer a death sentence.

A good woman. R.I.P.