My Dad loved to boast that his daughter was about to marry a Senator’s son. Sure, he loved Rocky, but he was also big into politics - Democrat politics, that is. And the fact that Bill Saxbe was a Republican intrigued him even more. On the other hand, I was focused on Rocky and not his father. It turns out my Dad was right. What an honor it is to be the daughter-in-law of Senator William B. Saxbe.

Bill lived his life in two different worlds: a gentleman farmer and a career politician. Whether hobnobbing with the locals in Mechanicsburg or rubbing elbows with national leaders in Washington, he had your full attention. He was charming, funny, and outspoken, and you never knew what was going to come out of his mouth.

Bill enjoyed being a devil’s advocate and often challenged me when it came to my political views. I was never afraid to stand up to this larger-than-life man who I admired and adored. However, I was speechless when Bill brought up President Clinton’s name in 1998 during breakfast in Delray Beach. He asked me in front of Dolly and Rocky, “So what do you think of your man Bill Clinton now that he’s being impeached for lying about Monica Lewinsky?” It’s one of the few times I kept my mouth shut and decided not to tell him that Rocky also voted for Bill Clinton.

Another time Rocky and I were having dinner with Dolly and Bill when we all lived in Mechanicsburg. Rocky alerted his parents they would probably hear a ridiculous rumor being circulated by a local busybody who claimed I would close the blinds and smoke marijuana all day after Rocky left for work. Bill’s quick and sly response was, “I didn’t realize you ever closed the blinds.” We all cracked up.

A more serious exchange with him occurred when Rocky and I visited Bill and Dolly at their apartment in Florida. I overheard Bill’s conversation with an obnoxious man complaining about “all the slimy New York Jews” living around him. As the man continued his tirade, Bill never pushed back. Heartbroken and crying, I told Rocky I was leaving and going back to Ohio.

As soon as Bill learned from Rocky how much his silence hurt me, he came to apologize, something I had never heard him do with anyone. He said how much he loved me as his daughter and that his inaction, in the face of raw anti-Semitic remarks, was wrong and out of character. Bill was rarely embarrassed by his quips or conduct, and I believe he genuinely understood that he diminished himself by tolerating the man’s racism. There were tears in both our eyes as he spoke. We hugged, and I don’t think I’ve ever loved or respected him more than at that moment.

Bill was a maverick and known for his blunt honesty and quick wit. The press found this refreshing and quoted him many times throughout his career, but there were times his remarks got him in trouble. When Bill met with Nixon in 1973 to talk about being Attorney General, he knew some of Nixon’s advisers didn’t want him to be nominated because of the abrasive remarks he made about the administration. “Mr. President,” Bill said, “I am afraid you’ll have to take me, warts and all.” Sometime later, he quipped, “Nixon was so friendly when he asked me to be AG, I thought he was going to hug me.”

And his now-famous remarks kept coming. In 1974, Bill called the heiress Patricia Hearst “a common criminal” after she became famous for being kidnapped by a wacky radical group, the Symbionese Liberation Army (SLA). He began receiving death threats, and soon nine FBI agents were assigned to Bill when he was in Mechanicsburg for the holidays. They followed him everywhere, uptown, into restaurants, friends’ homes, you name it. But it was never a big deal to the locals. Bill was a well-known rascal at the age of ten and admired for the same thing at seventy.

When President Nixon claimed he had no knowledge or involvement with the Watergate mess, Bill observed, “That’s like the piano player in a house of ill repute saying he didn’t know what was going on upstairs.” Referring to the Senate, Bill famously said, “I realized that the first six months in the Senate, you wonder how you got there. The next six months, you wonder how the rest of them got there.”

In 1972, Senator Robert Dole was appointed National Chairman of the Republican Party, and Bill, no fan of Dole, lamented, “That guy couldn’t sell beer on a troopship.” His reaction to the news that Rocky had joined the Marine Corps was classic. He joked, “You don’t have to be crazy to join the Marines, but it sure helps.”

Bill was an Army Veteran, Ohio Speaker of the House, Ohio Attorney General, U.S. Senator, U.S. Attorney General, and  Ambassador to India. After more than thirty years of public service, Bill and Dolly left India and returned home to Mechanicsburg, where they began a new life out of the limelight. It was 1976, and the year Jake was born. We picked them up at the airport, and they met Jake for the first time.

Bill was a natural storyteller and in 2000 wrote his autobiography, “I’ve Seen the Elephant,” an expression often used by soldiers returning home from the Civil War, meaning they experienced something out of the ordinary; they’d been to war and looked the enemy in the eye. The elephant is also the symbol for the Republican Party and a symbol for India, a country Bill always loved. The book covers his early childhood, his long and illustrious career in state, national, and international politics, and characters he met along the way. He gives opinions on the Vietnam War, the tumultuous sixties and seventies, and describes what it was like serving as Attorney General during Watergate and Nixon’s last days in office.

During one of our last family Thanksgiving dinners together, I asked Bill how he would feel if he knew his children and grandchildren voted for a Democrat in the previous Presidential election. Bill waited a few seconds and responded with a smile as if to say, “I understand, and I’m not surprised.” At the time, the Republican Party was getting more conservative, and the Tea Party was gaining strength. I’m not sure Bill recognized his party anymore. Shortly after he passed away in 2010, this editorial cartoon appeared in the Columbus Dispatch and says it all.

On the last page of Bill’s autobiography, he wrote, “Here I am at eighty-four, still working, still enjoying good health and my favorite sports, surrounded by good friends and a loving and successful family, all of whom shaped my destiny. I look at the political scene today and rejoice I got out when I did. I always had an aversion to political fundraising and still do. Today you have to raise so much money, it has to affect your thinking and actions. The problem can be solved, but I see little inclination to do so. I thank God for the interesting and exciting life Dolly and I have shared, and I pray that we can hang on and enjoy life for a few more years. Yes, I have seen the elephant.”

This great man lived happily with his family in Mechanicsburg for another ten years. I’m so proud to call him my father-in-law.