A patterned necktie, a young boy, and a servant-hearted George H.W. Bush: an encounter at a Houston church on the world's stage today

Comparing patterns on a young boy's tie in a conversation of a lifetime with former President George H.W. Bush.

The young boy was not used to wearing a necktie but, under duress, had donned a dark, patterned one for the special occasion.

Years later, he would be glad that his parents insisted.

That patterned necktie started the conversation of a lifetime when the tall, personable man greeted the lad in a side room at St. Martin's Episcopal Church in Houston.

Then Vice-President George H.W. Bush, himself wearing a dark tie with an almost identical pattern, knelt down to the 8-year-old and compared notes.

"I think we have good taste," was the essence of his conversation with young chap. This servant-hearted, politically strategic act won the child's admiration forever.

As religion editor for the Houston Chronicle, I had been invited on that January 1984, Sunday to report on the Vice President as he delivered a message from the pulpit at St. Martin's, home church for the Bush family in Houston. As the world will see today at Bush's funeral there, St. Martin's is situated on Houston's west side in the extremely affluent Memorial/Woodway area. It is an exquisite place of worship that bespeaks of wealth, influence, and power.

The Rev. Tom Bagby, the eloquent, scholarly rector at St. Martin's, had invited Kay and me to a private breakfast with the Bushes in his office at the church; then we were to sit in a front-row pew with Barbara Bush while her husband delivered the message. The church, Bagby said, would provide childcare for our two children.

Arriving at the church that Sunday morning, we opted immediately to leave our preschooler in the nursery but to take our son with us to Father Tom's office—just so he could catch a glimpse of the man we imagined some day would be President. Our plan was to return our son quickly to the children's area and be right back for the private breakfast.

Instead, the door to Father Tom's office opened and out popped Vice President Bush, who quickly spotted our son and began the tie-comparison remarks.

The tie-wearing kiddo ended up staying for breakfast with the Vice President, while his parents, Father Tom Bagby and his wife, and a few other guests dined on sweet rolls, coffee, and orange juice.

Then as a group we all moved to the front of the sanctuary where George would deliver the sermon. We were seated with Barbara Bush and Father Tom's wife, Mary Louise Bagby, in the second pew to the left of the pulpit.

Memorable January 1984 church service at St. Martin's Episcopal Church. Barbara and George H.W. Bush pose with Louis and Kay Moore and an instant admirer.

Afterward when I tried to clarify with the Vice President a quote from his sermon, Bush produced his manuscript with his handwritten notes and told me to just "keep it". Of course, I did! I treasure it today!

I had occupied that same pulpit myself earlier when Bagby invited me to be one of the church's Lenten speakers in the early 1980s. I presumed my speech would be in the church's rather ordinary Fellowship Hall and to a small group of people. Instead, imagine my surprise when I arrived on the scheduled Monday night and found that I would be speaking from the great pulpit of that beautiful cathedral-type edifice to a packed audience! Quite a forum for a lowly newspaper reporter that was not Episcopalian but a Southern Baptist.

Compounding my shock was a vote the St. Martin's congregation took every spring after Lent to decide which one of the current year's six speakers should be invited back to kick off the next year's Lenten season. I've joked ever since that Episcopalians at that point in their history must have been practically devoid of professional-sounding preachers among their ranks. Otherwise, why would they have asked me to return the next year?

Our introductions to the man who would become #41.

Round Two wasn't quite as terrifying as Round One in that large and impressive pulpit, but it set the stage for our encounter with the Bushes not long afterward.

After the worship service on that January 1984 day, the Bagbys bade farewell to the Bushes and other guests and headed off to a luncheon. As others pulled away, Kay and I realized we would be totally alone with George and Barbara. No Secret Service personnel were in sight. The Bushes' limousine was running behind schedule to pick them up, we were told. Since I had already conducted my newspaper interview and had his sermon notes, we just chatted. Talk of kids, houses, churches, and other day-to-day aspects of life filled the time.

What was it like to be the Vice President, with all the pressures and challenges that created? I asked.  George brushed the question off as if being Vice President was no different than many other jobs in the workaday world.

Would he run in 1988 to succeed President Ronald Reagan? He just smiled.

After a few more minutes of such chit-chat, the Vice President's limousine pulled up at the church. Doors opened, and after handshakes and farewells, George and Barbara departed, leaving us feeling we had just experienced true greatness and servant leadership.

Kay and I were left to conclude with the same remarks that have been a common thread through eulogies already characterizing George and Barbara Bush and no doubt will continue to be a theme today and in days to come as the Bushes are remembered: "They are really nice people."