July 2007: I have just written a eulogy for a friend who died in a car crash when I am summoned, along with about a dozen other journalists, to meet with the president. His director of media affairs, Jeanie Mamo, meets me at the security gate, sees my bloodshot eyes and, having read my column, says how sorry she is. I start babbling something about how I wouldn’t have come except — and she interrupts: “Except that he’s the president of the United States.”

Yes, that’s it.

Once in the Roosevelt Room, Bush circles the room and shakes hands with each person, coming to me last. He gives me a hug and says, “You’re not alone. I’m right there with you.”

Somehow I manage not to burst into tears. After the meeting, he returns to give me another hug, whereupon I ask a favor. Would he write a note to my friend’s son? Absolutely. In the Oval Office, he asks the boy’s name. Jackson. He writes: “Dear Jackson, I know your heart is broken. I will pray for you. Sincerely, George W. Bush.”

More or less. Unfortunately, I failed to copy the letter before delivering it to the son at my friend’s funeral.

I tell this story because it should be part of the public record of this president, not least because such gestures were not rare.