I submitted the following today to two local newspapers.

A Boy Named Reagan

This past Sunday morning brought home to me very personally how Ronald Reagan touched so many lives. As I was leaving church, I spotted a 14-year-old Russian boy I know, a sociable kid with a calm, happy disposition. He was adopted from a Russian orphanage. His name is Reagan – the name his adoptive parents gave him since he was born on the President’s birthday.

Something moved me to go over to him and say, “Let me tell you about who you’re named after.� And I sat down and told him that in 1980 when I was a student at Duke, the old Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan. I expected they wouldn’t stop there. And I expected I would be drafted to fight in a war against them.

At home, my own government was already hostile to my family. Although our business was modest, if successful, our taxes were as high as 70%.

But by the end of Reagan’s presidency, things were completely different. He helped stop the expansion of the Soviet Union’s domination and pushed it back. I never had to fight in that war, because it never happened. And not long after he left office, the unthinkable happened instead. The Berlin Wall fell, and not long afterward, the Soviet Union as well.

And my family never had to pay that 70% rate again. Reagan lowered the highest income tax rate to 28%.

Then I told the boy Reagan that if it weren’t for President Reagan, he wouldn’t be here in America because it’s very unlikely the Soviet Union would have let him go. For most Russians were prisoners in their own country under Communism.

He listened politely. Although his English is excellent, I don’t know if he really understood. The reality of the Cold War I grew up with must seem like strange distant history to just about any 14 year old today. But one day he’ll understand.

After I talked with him and with his mom a bit, I found I had to wipe a few tears from my eyes.

And I reflected on some other Russian kids I know. These are also orphanage kids, adopted by another family in my church. Now this family loves to play ultimate frisbee, and I play with them and some friends. Reagan and his American big brother, Landon, sometimes play, too. And these Russian kids, though small for their age, are quite good. I joke that the family adopted the Russian National Ultimate Frisbee team.

The kids are fun to watch as you can imagine. And I enjoy listening to them talk to each other in Russian and to others in their so far limited English. And I enjoy starting water fights with them after frisbee – fights they somehow always win.

As I walked out of church yesterday, I reflected that if it weren’t for Ronald Reagan, these kids wouldn’t be a part of our lives. Before him, it was unthinkable even. They wouldn’t be running across a sunny Texas field chasing frisbees or winning riotous water fights.

They wouldn’t be -- free.

So if you see me playing ultimate frisbee and provoking water fights with some Russian kids with a big smile on my face and maybe a tear in my eye, you’ll know why – and whom I thank.