White House Visit

A SPORTS TRIP TO THE WHITE HOUSE

by Mike Moffett

The e-mail from the White House naturally caught my eye when I reviewed the numerous messages that congregate daily in my electronic in-box. It was an invite to a May 21 Washington, D.C. event where President Trump would recognize 2017 NASCAR champion driver Martin Truex, as well as a NASCAR Nation that overwhelmingly voted for Trump to be president.

This was in contrast to the NBA Champion Golden State Warriors and their fans who overwhelmingly voted against Trump and who eschewed a White House visit.

Having never met the president, I pondered why I’d received the invitation. Perhaps he or his staff read the Weirs Times on-line. Or, more likely, it was related to the fact that I’m a sports columnist and a New Hampshire State Representative who lives about a mile from our wonderful NASCAR track—the New Hampshire Motor Speedway in Loudon.

I checked my calendar and then RSVP’d my appreciation for the invitation and replied that of course I’d come to the White House.

I shared the news with my spouse Beth—who is much smarter than me. She did not feel compelled to make the D.C. trip, but encouraged me to attend if I wanted to. Then she asked to see the invite, and noted that my name was misspelled.

“You didn’t send them any personal information did you?” she asked.

I stood slack-jawed.

“Please tell me you didn’t respond!”

I had to admit that I’d sent them all my personal contact information, date of birth, social security number, etc.

“That’s how identities are stolen! You’d better check with the White House or you’ll need to change all your credit cards and bank account numbers.”

Trusting soul that I am, I realized that I’d likely been snookered and would have to deal with the awful consequences of identity theft.

But then I got an acknowledgement and more information from the White House Social Office.

“If the Russians or whoever already have my identity, then why would they keep writing?”

“Are they still misspelling your name? Do they want more personal information?”

“No. They just told me about dress code, White House security measures, and which gate to go to.”

“Hmmmm.”

OFF TO D.C.

When the invitation proved to be real, I made travel plans. Greater D.C. is my old stomping ground from my days as a Marine in Quantico, Va. And as a former social studies teacher, I love the area’s history. I’d been by the White House many times, but never inside its grounds.

So on May 21 I found a great parking spot on Constitution Avenue in time to do some sight-seeing before the White House event. Washington can be deadly hot from May through September, and the 85 degree temps made traipsing around in my suitcoat a bit taxing, but I was happy to be there.

To some, Washington, D.C. personifies politics and power and many of our lesser angels. Indeed, many think of it as a corrupt swamp needing drainage. That those lesser angels are busy and active throughout the District of Columbia is oft-apparent. But a walk-about also reminds one of what Abraham Lincoln referred to as our “better angels.” Our national capital, with all its monuments, edifices, history, and spirit represents unparalleled achievement.

While many of the District’s permanent denizens may be oblivious to Washington’s mystique, its wide-eyed visitors always inspire me with their excitement and awe. Some Dutch tourists chatted me up while we walked along the ellipse. They were clearly delighted to be visiting our American capital and I hoped that our country, with all its imperfections, might always inspire the wonder that was so evident on their faces.

I briefly stopped by the White House Visitors Center at 1450 Pennsylvania Avenue to absorb some history and charge my cell phone. As a shameless Facebook devotee, I anticipating doing texts, photos, e-mails, tweets and live-streaming from the White House and wanted my Droid to be fully juiced!

GETTING INSIDE

Finally, I headed to the designated gate, along with other NASCAR invitees. I naturally expected tight security, but the measures surpassed my expectations. There were four check-points and search areas, with attendant metal detectors and the like. But my name was on every list and in I went.

I walked through part of the East Wing to a door that led out to the South Lawn for the NASCAR event. I thrilled to the sounds of the Marine Band, the “President’s Own,” the best band in the world. I mingled briefly with guests and then moved to the shade of a giant tree, beneath which the band played a medley of fabulous tunes. I live-streamed the awesome music while literally standing in the midst of the uniformed musicians, allowing my Facebook friends a chance to not only hear great music, but actually see the players—up close and personal.

The South Lawn grass was lush and extra-long, though not as long as the grass on the ellipse south of the South Lawn, which was almost a hayfield. (Mr. President, when you read this, please address the situation. In fact, I’d recommend you getting on a lawn tractor yourself and doing the mowing. Great optics!)

TRUMP SPEAKS

Finally the band played “Hail to the Chief” and the president emerged from the White House with Truex and the driver’s family members and race team.

President Trump is clearly an “alpha male” who draws energy from crowds and who relishes his job. Love him or hate him, he projects exuberance. He used notes but largely spoke extemporaneously. He praised NASCAR and the Truex team and also noted that NASCAR fans don’t take a knee during the national anthem—a thinly-veiled dig against last year’s NFL protesters.

Truex then offered a few gracious comments, and everyone got in line for photos with the Commander-in-Chief.

Given the heat and the length of the line, I demurred. I took a few more photos and headed out while the band played “Semper Fidelis.” I wanted to experience more of that wonderful D.C. history. Getting out was easy compared to getting in.

After flying back to New Hampshire I told Beth I was glad I went. My spouse—who is much smarter than me—said she was happy for me.

But she added that if I ended up a victim of identity theft, then at least she’d know who did it!

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