My fellow Americans, I have only had one Presidential-themed encounter personally, but I'm going to share my mom's anecdote and my dad's half-one as well. It's a Kanes' Brushes With Presidential Fame Extravaganza.
Picture it: Central Jersey, nineteen eighty something. My moms was driving along route 287 when a high-end foreign car (she forgets the make now, but guesses BMW) took a swerve towards my mom's mustard-colored Volvo station wagon. Mom looked over at the driver, who was rummaging for something on the dashboard, and was startled to recognize one of the most iconic faces of her lifetime looking back.
It was Jackie O! She lived in some ritzy part of the Jerse at the time, possibly Pluckemin, although that factoid is now hazy in my parents' memories as well. They met eyes, and Jackie did a little "oops, sorry" wave. Then my mom and John John's mom happened to get off at the same exit, and happened to end up at the same strip mall. (Nobody was stalking anybody, so lay off.) Jackie was heading to the dry cleaners, noticed my mom's car as the one she'd swerved at earlier, and waved over to her. She was maybe not the greatest driver, but no one could deny the lady's grace.
It must have been the early 80s, because I was young enough that I didn't know who Jackie O was, but I remember how thrilled my mom was telling the story to everyone. Another time, my dad stood behind Jackie on line when she was buying cigarettes, but he didn't get any Presidential waves. I did though, years later. Here's my encounter, as told when I was interviewed on Gothamist.
A few days after September 11th, a few friends and I made it into the
sealed-off downtown area to try to volunteer at one of the hospitals.
We ended up sitting in a waiting room for hours, not being of any help
to anyone. The whole front glass wall of the waiting room was covered
with missing-person fliers. While waiting there I saw, on the fuzzy
local TV news (all the TV towers had been knocked out, remember)
President Bush boarding a small plane to come to New York. That’s right, that goon is President,
I was reminded again. Finally we gave up waiting around to help and
headed out. I peeled a scrap of paper from a car that was covered in
that damp, gray-white dust that was made up of the collapsed buildings
and humanity and planes. It said “Appendix,” and I kept it in my
pocket. As we walked uptown we were stopped by a cop, on a corner
across the street from City Hall. All pedestrian traffic was stopped on
all corners at that intersection, though we weren’t told why. Finally a
succession of black SUVs and other Secret Service vehicles with tinted
glass came around the corner heading down to Ground Zero…it was the
Presidential motorcade. New Yorkers on each corner of the intersection
stood silent as the motorcade slowly proceeded by, then we saw
President Bush’s grinning monkey face at one window, and he waved and
gave us the thumbs up. The fucking thumbs up?! Was he joking?
Nobody waved back, cheered, booed, or said much of anything, really. It
was just like, Holy shit; that was the President. It was just another
odd sight to an already stunned populace at one of the most unreal
times ever.
Kind of a bum note to end on...but then just remember OBAMA!
USA!
USA!
USA!
Happy Presidents' Day, everyone.
Related:
Who Will Be the First to Interview President Obama?
