Yesterday, I went to see the president. I don't mean I was invited to a colloquy or even to shoot a few baskets, but was simply one among many people who gathered at the Colorado College campus to get a look at our chief executive.
Years ago, when I was a park ranger, I was on a number of presidential protection details. I guarded Jimmy Carter in 1978 when he brought Anwar Sadat and Menachim Begin to Gettysburg. (Actually, I was halfway down Little Round Top, and guarded the statue of a New York Zouave.) Then, I was on patrol at Yorktown in 1981, when President Reagan came to town for the bicentennial celebration there, but didn't see him because I was helping a little lost boy find his parents when the motorcade went by. The next year I was on an outer ring of security during the economic summit in Williamsburg. Never saw the man but had fun riding a motorscooter around the grounds at Carter's Grove plantation while the president hosted a dinner there.
Finally, I was detailed to Philadelphia on April Fools Day, 1987, when Reagan came to give a speech at Independence Hall. I was on the corner of Sixth and Chestnut streets, and had been told to wear dress uniform rather than a parka. I remember the wind whistling around the corner, and that I was so cold I just prayed nobody would cause trouble because my hand was too numb for me to draw my revolver.
So I have had some experience with dignitary visits, and confidently set off, thinking I'd find a parking space at some distance and not get caught in a traffic jam after the president departed. In fact, I parked about two miles from campus and jauntily walked there. By the time I arrived, there was a huge line, stretching another half mile or so, and in the opposite direction from the one I had come from. Nothing daunted, I hoofed it to the end of the line, and struck up a conversation with some Canadians who arrived just after me.
People kept asking why Canadians wanted to see our president, and the answer, "Why not?" usually wasn't satisfactory. We waited about an hour before we began to make any progress towards the gates. Vendors of political buttons were doing a brisk business along the line, and Obama volunteers circulated, soliciting for more volunteers and helping people register to vote.
You have to pass through metal detectors to see a president now, a sensible precaution, but still somehow not very democratic. It would be nice if a citizen could just walk up to a president and say hello, but the days when that was possible are gone forever.
Nothing on my ticket said when the president would speak, and I was a little surprised when I learned he wasn't scheduled to arrive until two o'clock. Shade was at a premium, and I didn't get any. My hair has become very thin as I've aged, so I did get a burn on the old dome.
Volunteers passed out water bottles. The Democrats seem very good about tending to the needs of their crowds. I hope Republicans do the same.
Helicopters began circling the area at about 1:30. Then the motorcade arrived, two police SUV's followed by two black limousines bearing the presidential seal, then several more black cars and numerous press vehicles.
Most of the cars disappeared from my field of vision, but one of the limos backed up just behind the speaker's area. I guessed it was a getaway car in case of an assassination attempt, probably loaded with trauma equipment. I'm sure a doctor must travel with the president nowadays.
Ken Salazar, Secretary of the Interior, warmed up the crowd. Then a local kindergarten teacher introduced the president, telling us that the extension of unemployment benefits had been a godsend to her family when her husband was out of work. She finished by saying her son will turn eighteen on November 10, too late to vote this year, but he is still working very hard to re-elect the president.
Barack Obama literally bounded out to the podium. He is thin, very thin, and the first impression one gets is that he's not physically substantial enough to be president. A strong wind would blow him away. Then he begins to speak, and any doubts of his physical capacity are forgotten. He speaks in that baritone voice and you know immediately that he can do the job.
It was a campaign speech. He reminded us of what he has done the last four years, and chided Mitt Romney. He did use the fairy-dust line to describe Romney's economic ideas. The crowd applauded, cheered, and chanted. "Four more years!" was the cry of the crowd, which made me cringe, thinking of Richard Nixon.
It was a stock speech, as I've said. Still, near the end I became very emotional. I like this man. I haven't felt this kind of affection for a politician since Robert Kennedy was murdered. "I'm too old and too fatalistic to give my heart to a politician," I told myself, but I did anyway, even if it was for just one day.
The president shook hands for a few minutes after he finished his speech, but I was too far away, and had lost sight of him. The crowd began to disperse.
A woman near me sported a tee shirt with the slogan, "Old white woman for Obama." I rather wish I had one that said "Old white man for Obama." Old white men are supposedly the most loyal GOP population segment, so I'd enjoy twitting them a bit.
The walk back to my little truck was very long, though I stopped for a very late lunch at a favorite restaurant with the interesting name, "Jose Muldoon's." By the time I returned home it was late afternoon and I was tired, hot, sweaty, and de-hydrated, despite quaffing two diet Pepsi's at Jose's. But I'm okay now.
I might have had my fill of going to see presidents. But I will volunteer for Obama for America.
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