To the Editor:
The US Secret Service has come under a lot of criticism following the recent near-kidnapping of former President Donald Trump by an assassin. While congressional oversight and internal review take care of everything, I can report some positive experiences with the Secret Service – in the White House, of all places.
I was 9 years old the first time I visited the Executive Mansion in Washington with Mom, Dad, and my younger brother. It was not uncommon for families to take summer vacations back then, and ours was full of adventure in early August 1965. We joined friends from New Jersey to explore New York City, including the World’s Fair. Eating lunch from a vending machine was fun and a long-gone experience here in the 21st century.
As we stood on a street within sight of the UN building, Dad gave Billy and me a dollar each and explained, “I didn’t want you boys in the big city with no money in your pockets.” This was a decade before Glen Campbell’s “Rhinestone Cowboy” and his dreams of “the things I’ll do with a subway card and a dollar in my shoe,” but we felt ready to take on the city!
On our way back south and home, we stopped in the capital to see the sights. We stopped on the street to split two Coca-Colas between four people. I remember rejoicing that we would never pay a quarter for a Coke back home! Our Congressman Charlie Jonas got us tickets to tour the White House, and unlike today, we were able to use them immediately.
After waiting in line outside President and Mrs. Lyndon Johnson’s home on Pennsylvania Avenue, a docent led our group through several rooms. Interestingly, this happened just days before Johnson signed the historic Voting Rights Act in 1965.
But LBJ almost had a mess to clean up – and I don’t mean the Vietnam War, which was still in its early stages. In the Blue Room of the mansion, I was overcome by a bout of nausea. Pretty soon, I was escorted by a uniformed officer to a secluded restroom. Despite my childish imagination, I didn’t encounter a tall, red-headed Texan who asked, “You OK, buddy?”
Still a little green around the ears, I posed with Dad and Billy while Mom photographed us sitting on the steps of the White House’s North Portico – where presidents typically greet foreign dignitaries, hold impromptu press conferences and wait for their successors on inauguration days. It’s still a treasured snapshot, likely developed by Spartanburg-based Jack Rabbit Photo Processing.
Tours of the White House now require more planning, but I wanted Robin to enjoy the opportunity. After several months of waiting, Congressman Dan Bishop informed us that our tour was approved for August 6. I’m sure a cursory background check was conducted, but we still had to pass several levels of Secret Service screening to enter President and Mrs. Joe Biden’s home in Washington. At the final checkpoint, we stood next to a slatted metal barrier where a police officer with a sniffer dog sniffed for invisible contraband. We’ll never know if “Agent Rover” wore the signature aviator sunglasses.
Our self-guided 45-minute tour began at the East Colonnade entrance of the Mansion and took us past the China Room, Library, Diplomatic Reception Room and Vermeil Room on the ground floor before climbing the stairs to the State Floor. Of course, you will be watched at every turn, although agents are happy to answer questions, as I observed one patiently taking time to answer a curious visitor in the State Dining Room.
As I left the tour at the north portico, I noticed that most of the area was cordoned off to the public and apparently not available for a photo to complement my snapshot from 59 years ago. But you never know what will happen if you don’t ask, so I approached an uninformed intelligence officer. Unlike the more elegant white-shirted uniforms of 1965, this agent was ready for action in black tactical gear.
As I explained my request, I braced myself for a withering look and someone pointing toward the exit. Instead, the agent’s serious expression turned to a smile and a helpful, “It’s fine, I’ll take care of you.” He dropped the chain and allowed me to pose on the same step I had stood on long ago when Robin captured the moment.
This image has been added to my pantheon of treasured photos. I guess a little politeness and looking like someone’s old grandpa pays off sometimes.
Douglas Smith, Rockingham
