Soothing fire victims’ pain isn’t politics

It’s not showboating -- not even political opportunism. When a governor tours a disaster scene, cameras in tow, it’s more like paying a bedside visit.

Motivation? Doesn’t matter.

Nobody asks why someone who’s barely acquainted shows up at a prominent person’s funeral. Maybe it’s merely to see and be seen. But it demonstrates respect and is appreciated by the grieving family.

When a friend is critically ill, and you’re not sure what to say, it doesn’t much matter. What matters is that you show up and express concern. Maybe lift some spirits. Bring over a pizza for the stressed family.

And when an earthquake or a flood or wildfire destroys homes and lives, the biggest risk for a governor or a president is if he doesn’t get off his duff and get down there. See the devastation firsthand and -- most important -- talk to victims.

“There’s therapeutic value,” says Garry South, an advisor to two governors, Gray Davis of California and Richard Celeste of Ohio. “It’s not just showboating.

“Victims don’t expect a president or a governor to come in and make everything right overnight. But they at least expect them to express empathy and be personally present to see the devastation.”

It can briefly soothe pain and be a welcome diversion.

No governor I’ve ever covered, back to Pat Brown, has done the hand-holding as well as Arnold Schwarzenegger. He’s inherently upbeat, super-confident and loves the gig.

Pete Wilson looked awkward at disaster scenes, although he began his political comeback by exhibiting strong leadership after the 1994 Northridge earthquake.

George Deukmejian appeared aloof, his natural personality.

Ronald Reagan conveyed shock. He might have grabbed a shovel and filled some sandbags for the cameras, but was at a loss for words without the Democrats or Commies to blame.

Pat Brown famously committed the all-time verbal fumble, at a North Coast flood: “This is the worst disaster since I was elected governor.”

But all these governors conveyed hope. And their very presence kept subordinates and bureaucrats on their toes during relief efforts.

As President Bush remarked Thursday at a disaster site in Rancho Bernardo: “It turns out when the president shows up, so does a lot of the other brass.”

Bush, Schwarzenegger, U.S. Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D-Calif.) and other brass visited the burned-out home of Kendra and Jay Jeffcoat, a San Diego attorney and Democratic campaign contributor.

The Jeffcoats were totally surprised when they returned to their destroyed residence to find hordes of police officers and men in dark suits.

“The president is landing on your street. Would you please stay around? He’d like to talk to you,” Jay Jeffcoat recalls being asked. Another man then warned him: “Don’t approach his car. Don’t have your hands in your pocket. Don’t make quick moves.”

Jeffcoat says he and Bush chatted for 15 minutes. When the fire victim lamented the loss of an autographed baseball from pitching great Nolan Ryan, the president quickly said: “I’ll take care of that. I’ll get on Air Force One and call Nolan. He’s a buddy of mine.”

“I was moved,” Jeffcoat says. “I was touched by their warmth, their sincerity, by their straightforwardness. There was no BS. I didn’t get any feeling they were just looking for a photo-op. When my wife started crying and the president hugged her, that was a real spontaneous, human reaction.”

Jeffcoat says he was particularly impressed that Schwarzenegger, rather than hogging the cameras, “really tried to stay out of the limelight.”

There was no need for him to get greedy. Schwarzenegger seemed to be on TV every five minutes last week.

“The governor is very cognizant of his celebrity and feels he has a responsibility to be out there lifting people’s spirits,” says Adam Mendelsohn, Schwarzenegger’s communications director. “He realizes people gravitate to him. He must have signed 10,000 autographs and posed for 10,000 cell pictures all week.”

Debbie Renwick-Ball of Ramona -- who didn’t learn until Saturday that her house had been damaged, but not destroyed, by the Witch fire -- took refuge in the Escondido High School gym, where Schwarzenegger visited.

“He went into the game room and picked up my 3-year-old son and held him,” she says. “It was a personal touch. His presence was uplifting. A lot of refugees feel so disconnected from their families and homes, he made them feel connected to somebody. It made them feel that perhaps somebody really was working on their problems.”

Schwarzenegger was working on both immediate and long-range problems. At Qualcomm Stadium in San Diego, the governor told evacuees he was concerned about “do we have enough cots down here, do we have enough blankets, do we have enough food, do we have water, do we have the baby formulas, do we have the diapers, do we have enough toilet paper, do we have enough toilets?”

In evacuee camps, diaper and toilet details can matter most.

As for the big, long-range problems, Schwarzenegger repeatedly has been using a sports analogy. In golf and tennis, he notes, “they always teach you about follow-through.” And in reconstruction, he adds, “It’s the same thing: Follow-through is the most important.”

But for a governor, nothing is more important than showing up in the first place -- for no other reason than to see personally where the follow-through is crucial.

Publicity stunts? Maybe. We shouldn’t care.

“It’s part of the healing process for suffering, grieving property owners,” says Pat Dennen, San Bernardino County’s fire chief, who escorted Schwarzenegger on a tour of torched homes at Lake Arrowhead. “It’s a morale booster not only for victims, but for firefighters and law enforcement folks out there working their tails off.”

Schwarzenegger certainly will benefit politically from his bedside visits, and he should.

george.skelton@latimes.com