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When someone like Vice President Dick Cheney passes away, the tributes come quickly from former staffers, elected officials, historians and journalists. But there’s another group of people—a quieter chorus—who feel the loss just as deeply: those who never worked directly for him, never shook his hand, but still admired him from afar and appreciated the example he set.
Since his passing, I’ve found myself living vicariously through the social media posts of friends and former colleagues who knew him well. Some worked for him in the West Wing. Others crossed paths during campaigns, policy battles or moments of crisis. Their reflections—some funny, some reverent—paint a picture of a man who was not only as smart and strategic as advertised, but also warmer, funnier and more loyal than many ever realized.
And I’ve loved every bit of it.
This is not the first time I have seen an outpouring of support when a former elected official has passed. The alumni networks are always larger and more impactful than one individual. But they are human, too, and humans grieve in different ways.
Paying tribute is not a partisan act. In fact, too often, we might let partisanship define our opinion of people after they pass, even if partisanship didn’t define them. I never had the honor to meet Vice President Cheney. But when I was in my early 20s, I had the surreal opportunity to drive a staff van in his motorcade when he came to Indianapolis for a speech. At the time, it was the “coolest” political experience of my life. It was a glimpse into the machinery of leadership, and it left a lasting impression.
Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of being in rooms with political veterans who have shared their favorite stories about Cheney. Stories about staffing him while fishing in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, or stories about the early days of the Bush-Cheney Transition Team, flights on Air Force 2 and early A.M. briefings in his office where he would keep everyone on their toes.
From those stories, I saw a man who selflessly served in high-pressure roles during high-pressure times when he could have just as easily done less and earned more. My friends would tell you he was a strategist, a statesman and a mentor. They would tell you he understood the weight of power and the importance of restraint. They would tell you he didn’t chase headlines, he chased results. And that he never forgot the people who helped him carry the load.
In a time when public service is often undervalued or misunderstood, Cheney’s legacy reminds us that leadership is about more than optics. It’s about consistency, conviction and character. It’s about showing up, doing the work and making hard decisions with clarity and courage.
So I join the chorus of voices, near and far, official and unofficial, who say thank you. Thank you for your many years of service. Thank you for your example. And thank you for the quiet moments of mentorship and humor that so many have shared in recent days.
Godspeed, Mr. Vice President. Your legacy endures, and your impact lives on in ways both public and personal. To Sean, Brian, Coalter, Mel, Meg, Jamie, Martha and others who shared your stories with me over the years: They have meant more to me than you know.•
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Rateike is founder of BAR Communications and served as director of cabinet communications for President Donald Trump. This is his new headshot. Send comments to [email protected].
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