Encounters with Four Presidents
I’ve had the good fortune to touch three Presidents and shout at a fourth. Here is my story.
George H.W. Bush, February 1992
I played hooky from college for a few days and headed to Manchester, New Hampshire on the eve of the Democratic Primary. For a 20 year old political junkie, this was nirvana. The streets were filled with gangs of political crazies like me chanting slogans. Wannabe presidents held court on every corner, speaking to masses of unwashed reporters. Everyone was bleary eyed and high on partisan hysteria.
The only thing us Democrats all agreed on was that George H.W. Bush had to go.
Looking back, I have a hard time understanding why I disliked George Bush so intensely during that period. This wasn’t the Vietnam/Watergate era. Bush was a competent moderate, not a firebrand. He wrote his own thank you notes, puked in the Japanese Prime Minister’s lap and proclaimed “A Thousand Points of Light” with a wan smile. This was (and is) a man to cuddle and nurture, not hate.
But the economy was the shits, I was about to graduate from college and I was a member of the Democratic wing of the Democratic Party.
By chance, President Bush was in town (he had his own primary to deal with) and his entourage was spotted by our mob. He reached his destination, exited an armored limo and headed into a building up the hill about 75 yards away. We could see him through the trees.
A number of us started yelling. I can’t remember what we yelled. It was sharp and critical for sure, but I’m positive it wasn’t vulgar. Probably “No More Years” or “Your OUTTA Here” or something like that.
We got his attention. He paused, looked towards us and gave us a big wave.
I thought then and I think now he was under the impression we were yelling something nice. He was far enough away that he couldn’t make out the words. He probably assumed it was “God Bless America!” or “Hello Mr. President!” That makes me sad. The only other scenario is that he had one hell of a sarcastic streak and was taking a moment to mock us, which I find highly unlikely.
I’ve evolved since then. My patriotism and respect for the Presidency borders on corny, for better or worse. I have my faults, but in an era of political polarization, I’m proud to be an outlier in this respect. The San Jose Mercury News even highlighted one of my tweets for a story chronicling divergent views following the State of the Union address (Humble brag alert — yes, I’m a big F-ing deal on the Internet):
Or maybe I just have a guilty conscience for screaming at the leader of the free world.
The Clintons and the Gores, January 1993
Being a Georgetown University student on the morning of January 20, 1993 had its privileges. The President-elect was a Hoya. He decided to visit his old campus before heading to the Capitol to be sworn in on Inauguration Day. He brought the whole gang: Hillary, Al, Tipper. It was a cold January morning. We were required to exit our dorm rooms at 5:30 and wait on Healy Lawn for two hours. Snipers kept an eye on us from above.
They arrived as scheduled and everyone went nuts. After a few remarks by Georgetown bigwigs, Bill and crew headed for the rope lines to shake some hands. I was near the front. Perfect placement — a rare stroke of good fortune.
The handshakes came in quick succession. I was going to snag them all. Bill’s was glancing but warm. Then a full clasp with Hillary, then Tipper. Al was bringing up the rear. By this time a large group had pushed forward, rearranging the scrum and pulling me two feet to the left. Al’s hand was right there but nearly out of my grasp.
I wanted it real bad. I stretched nearly out of my shoes and grabbed part of his thumb as he was pulling away. Our eyes met and in that micro moment, a half a second, maybe a third of a second, he looked at me with deep hostility.
If this had been a scene from a sci-fi TV show where time stood still and everyone was frozen except the two of us, Al Gore would have given me the Global Warming treatment. It would have been a skilled take down from a classically trained debater. I’d still be in his lock box to this day, only glimpsing the light when he took me out for an occasional beating.
Overall I was ambivalent about this encounter: proud to shake hands with the four most central people on the planet that day, psyched that my encounter with Al was memorable, yet uneasy that a man a heartbeat away from the Presidency was not a fan.
Jimmy Carter, October 1996
For some reason I thought my father would like Jimmy Carter’s 1996 book “Living Faith” which detailed Carter’s reflections on reading bits of scripture to family and friends over the years. My dad wasn’t particularly religious, not a fan of Carter, and didn’t search out dry books. But when I heard that Carter would be doing a signing at a book store (yes, they had those) in downtown San Francisco near where I worked, I was in.
I waited in line for an hour until it was my turn. When I finally got to Carter I was amped up and said something like “Thank you Mr. President for your service to our Country.” (I’m perfectly capable of channeling Jimmy Stewart).
As my grandmother used to say “he stared a hole through me.” He didn’t register a human presence in his midst and did not acknowledge me in any way. It was the coldest I’ve ever felt in the company of a President.
Jimmy Carter is a great American, but not at all chatty during book signings. I’d prefer not to have him over for dinner or hang out with him on a desert island, although his bits of scripture might be helpful.
Barack Obama, February 2011
Through a series of extraordinary events, a friend invited me to stand at a viewing area on a runway at San Francisco International Airport where President Obama would disembark Air Force One. I was allowed to bring my wife, six year old son, three year old daughter and one year old son.
Waiting in the rain for an hour with three young children is not enjoyable. I figured this was going to be an extraordinary experience in retrospect but miserable in the actual moment. We were told that the President would not have time to approach our small group, but we would get a good look at him. Fair enough.
I was thinking that Air Force One would probably be a let down… when out of the clouds the full force and fury of the United States emerged and appeared to be coming right at us. It rocketed past, closer than any of us expected, way more dramatic than we could have hoped. Damn, it felt good to be an American.
It only got better. Air Force One taxid back, the President emerged and headed towards us, disregarding the bean counters. In my shaky handheld video (carrying one year old and corralling others) I started murmuring “Hello Mr. President” almost to myself, then as he got closer “HELLO MR. PRESIDENT” joining a number of other fawning Americans.
I’ve never seen a cooler cat in my life. He was all smiles, great spirits, and a lift in his step. This is what it looks like to be the leader of the free world.
He moved efficiently down the line but paused to chat with a number of people, including me and my brood. At this point in our family life, I was concerned because my wife had recently announced her intention to have another child and perhaps many more. This plan was a surprise and not at all complementary to my mental stability, endurance or financial resources.
The President of the United States came right up to us, high-fived the kids, touched my shoulder, looked me in the eye and said “WOW — You Have Your HANDS FULL!” Eileen complained to her friends, “Dan thinks even the President is on his side.”
We got a dog instead. Her name is Chloe. She is a Democrat.
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