I awoke with a start that morning with a tapping on the bedroom door.
"Time to get up"
I worked my way through the bleariness of sleep to gather my bearings and coerse my brain into reality from a restless slumber. The type of slumber you have when you know that waking in the morning at an early hour is a requirement. I stumbled to the bathroom and showered quickly and quietly. I did my hair and put on the best clothes that I had available to me. I tenatively made my way up the stairs to the kitchen where I was greeted with a "let's go" and we were off. It was early in the morning. Actually by many definitions it could have been described as the night before - 3:30 or something similarly obscene. We drove through the cold morning on our way to the meeting point. We were pretty quiet as neither of us were much for talking in the morning. We listened to Chris Isaak and had an uncomfortable shift in energy at the end of "Wicked Game" and moments later we were at the meeting point.
I was introduced to a number of people whose names are now mostly a blur to me. We were briefed on what to expect for the day. We were told of the rules and regulations. We were told that no matter what happened we were to listen to them and them alone. Follow all directions quickly and without question. I was shuffled into a 15 passenger van with another woman and we were off again en route to our destination.
We arrived at a high school where the vans were lined up in a specific order and we sat and waited. The crowd grew larger and larger over time as the sun came up over the field. And we waited. Eventually a few people joined us. A nurse was the first and she was happy to explain to us what to expect next with a casual air that only comes with experience. After what seemed like a very long time we felt the vibrations of the helicopter landing and a few minutes later a man in a suit knocked on our car and told us to go forward.
We drove in a line very slowly out of the high school and through the town. People were gathered on the streets with their signs and their flags and their messages. We saw with our eyes the devastation that had come upon this place. Bridges were gone, homes were underwater, streets were unpassable. We made our first stop and someone came to get me and told me to switch vans. I ran up and jumped in another van. I looked behind me and there were people there about whom I had only read. I looked over at my friend with eyes possibly twice the size of my head and he just mouthed "I know!" with as much excitement in his whisper as I felt in my heart.
We continued on and we stopped in a housing development. There was a Mustang parked in a driveway and there were questions to be asked. We listened to conversations about who had the best candy in their desk and how things haven't been the same since the big change. Eventually we wound up at a fire company and the people in our van jumped out for their meeting leaving my friend and me alone. We ate our sandwiches and went over and over again all that we had seen and all that we had heard. And we wondered what would happen next. Would we really get the chance? What if we didn't? Would we still be as excited? Wow, we're tired! We listened to the meeting in the fire hall on the local AM radtion station as it blanked in and out over and over again.
Just as we were thinking we weren't going to get the chance. Just as we were thinking that we were so woefully behind schedule that we'd never have the opportunity we'd hoped for all day -- we were told to get out of the van and follow some men into the basement of the fire hall. We were told to line up in a semi-circle and that this would be quick but they didn't want us to miss this opportunity. I was at the far end of the semi-circle when he walked in. My breath was literally taken away. He moved down the circle shaking hands with each person, saying hi, thanking them for their help today. The more time that passed, the more nervous I was. What was I going to say? I had no idea until...well, until I had to. He stood in front of me and my heart was about to pound out of my chest.
"Thank you for your help today"
"You're welcome Mr. President, happy valentine's day"
"You too"
And with that, he was gone. The room exploded into a cacaphony of excited squeals and sounds of disbelief.
We went back to the van and dropped off our passengers and made our way back to town. We dined together that evening on bacon wrapped filets and the giddiness of an experience that we'd never forget.
Fifteen years ago today, my best friend and I had the opportuntity to drive in Bill Clinton's motocade in Woodland, Washington. There had been dreadful floods in southern WA and northern OR and President Clinton was in town to see the devastation and to talk to the community about how FEMA was going to assist them in their rebuilding.
In our van that day was Henry Cisneros, Secretary of Housing and Urban Development, James Lee Witt, FEMA adminstrator, Senator Patty Murray (D-WA), Senator Ron Wyden (D-OR), Senator Mark Hatfield (R-OR) and a number of others.
Fifteen years ago I was a bright eyed 22 year old who vowed to remember as many details of the day as possible and who thankfully has. And even when, one day, I do forget. I have the photo of shaking hands with President Clinton on a chilly Valentine's Day afternoon.
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