Extracting Excalibur

The photograph is old now, a memory from another, simpler time. Yet despite the thirty two years that have elapsed since that day in 1963, the magic of the moment transcends the battered celluloid. The young man stands there, obviously enthralled. His eyes wide, he leans forward to catch every word, almost as if to bow, as he shakes hands with President John F. Kennedy.

When the young man grew up and ran for the presidency himself, the photograph appeared as a touchstone across the ages; living proof that the torch had truly been passed to a new generation of Americans. Many saw this as an end top an era of mourning over the loss of American innocence, lost in an instant one Friday afternoon in November 1963. Finally perhaps an answer could be provided to the perennial question, “Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?” So symbolic was it that it nearly seemed too good to be true. But true it was. I knew it, and I was impressed. The photograph’s symbolic nature was all too real; to meet a President, one of the greatest Presidents and to become motivated to then become President, surely that is a tale to be told. Like the extraction of Excalibur. Well there is another tale to be told; of how I followed in Bill Clinton’s footsteps and shook hands with the President of the United States of America.

I spent the summer of 1995 as an Intern in Washington DC working at the headquarters of the United Methodist Church. As a Student President for my American Studies course at Nene College in Northampton, I had been chosen along with five others to partake in this pilot scheme out of 200 students. During the long hot summer months I worked extensively on issues such as handgun control and the death penalty when word came through that President Clinton would be making an address to the nation on the contentious issue of School Prayer. Following on from his July 6 speech on Citizenship at Georgetown University, it seemed clear to me that this was part of the President’s concerted effort to gain the all important middle ground in the upcoming 1996 Presidential election.

During the summer I had had the distinct pleasure of working with Mr. Hilary Shelton, whose father in law, Andrew Young, had been a colleague of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Partly due to this connection, Hilary had been invited along to the President’s speech, to be given at James Madison High School in Vienna, Virginia. Hilary was well aware of my interest in the presidency in general and in Bill Clinton in particular. One telephone call to the White House was enough to clear me for attendance to the July 12 address. I was going to see the speech up close.

The great day eventually dawned and by 8:30 am, Hilary and I were cruising through the beautiful Virginian countryside in his Lincoln Towncar, heading for a rendezvous with the Chief Executive. The roads heading into Washington were solid, but as we were leaving town, the highways were clear all the way into Virginia. A high school did seem to be an awfully inauspicious location to meet such a powerful individual, but that was the way fate had arranged it, so who was I to complain? We arrived at 9:15 and already the car park was beginning to fill up. We made our way to the reception desk which was manned by a vision in scarlet; scarlet dress, scarlet nails, scarlet lipstick and scarlet shoes. All that really mattered however was that there was my name, James D. Boys, on the official White House guest list! I had expected to be listed as Hilary Shelton’s guest, but there I was; an individual known to the White House!

I was handed two tickets which surprised me. The first was a simple invitation to attend the speech, which was a prerequisite for entrance to the auditorium. But the second ticket was something different altogether. On a small piece of card measuring 3” x 4” were written the magic words :

Please meet President William Jefferson Clinton immediately following the Presidential Address July 12, 1995

I had never before felt such wonder and awe, for my un-dreamable dream was set to come true. We left the glorious weather and the Scarlet Lady behind us and ventured inside. We were shown to an auditorium with a seating capacity of roughly 500. Hilary walked right to the front and naturally where he went I followed. It was at this stage that Hilary found who he was looking for; a young lady named Flo MacAfee from the White House Public Liaison Office. She had arranged our tickets for us and we both took the opportunity to let her know how very grateful we were for her assistance. There was a wait of an hour before the ceremonies were scheduled to begin, but the time flew by Flo directed us to our seats, third row, and slightly off centre. These had been reserved and were now ours. We were seated next to a large Roman Catholic Priest who had known Bill Clinton when he had been Governor of Arkansas, and who was both knowledgeable and talkative.

The speech was being carried by C-SPAN and all the major networks, which had set up their banks of cameras at the back of the hall. The whole room was a buzz of energy and conversation. Small groups huddled together, talking excitedly. Hilary said that he managed to get as much work done at a meeting like this, as he would during three weeks in the office. During the wait, Lynn Landburg came over. I had met her during the first orientation week and much to by surprise, she remembered me and my “delightful accent.”

With about twenty minutes to go, Hilary and I were asked to move. “Here we go” I thought, “back Aisle coming up!” Instead we were asked if we would mind “joining the President’s guests in the front row, and in the camera cut away shot?” I could not quite belief it, we were within feet of the podium, now resplendent with the Presidential seal. The Secret Service Agents were aplenty, identifiable by their mean demure, cables running from their ears, their sunglasses, and their habit of talking into concealed microphones. If they were not doing such an important job, they would be really funny. I as reminded of the Clint Eastwood movie, “In the Line of Fire” when an attractive agent appeared, as Clint would have aid, “Sheer window dressing.”

Shortly after 10:40, a noticeable hustle came from behind the stage. Even more Secret Servicemen appeared from nowhere, whispering into their microphones, “He’s Here”, which somewhat gave the game away. The Secretary of Education and a number of School Officials were first on stage, joined by the President of the Student Body, who reminded me of myself. He had the pleasure of introducing Secretary Richard W. Riley, who spoke for no more than a couple of minutes, and it became apparent very quickly that his sole role was to declare, “Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the United States, William Jefferson Clinton.”

The whole room erupted when he walked on, all 6 feet 2 inches, looking tanned and relaxed. He spoke at length on the subject of Religious Liberty. It was well delivered and managed to convey a sense of Presidential urgency to an issue which the President stated “could provoke a fight in nearly any country, town or city street in America- religion.” The President’s address dwelt on the of the First Amendment to the American Constitution, which he said should be  interpreted as “a gift to us, written so that it would grow and change, but hold fast to certain principles.” The speech lasted for forty five minutes, with no, and few regards to notes. The President’s reception was electric, and at the end of the address, the room erupted once more and I managed to fire off a couple of photographs, in addition to a number I took when he walked in.

With the address completed, the time of my historic meeting with the President was fast approaching. Having been lucky enough to be invited to the after speech reception, Hilary and I made our way to the rear of the auditorium and headed through another security fence, into an exclusive, reserved area. There was free punch and blueberry muffins which I ate with relish. The room broke down into interested parties, all eager to meet the President. The room I realised was a small gymnasium, with basketball courts, etceteras. In one corner, a navy blue stage, equipped with the Stars and Stripes, had been set up. Clearly, this was where the President would be introduced to those lucky enough to be invited.

Presently, a reception line began to form so I hustled my way to a place near the front and began waiting patiently. I have no idea how long we waited but with so few people invited, it cannot have been for more than 25 minutes. Before long I was within feet of the most powerful man alive. As we drew closer, I became aware for the first time of President Clinton’s physical dominance over the room. At 6”2’ he was not just taller than most people, but also larger all over. Whether it was his undisputed Presidential aura I don’t know, but he towered over all and sundry and totally dominated the room.

As my time neared I gave my camera to a secret service agent. Then it was my turn. Flo MacAfee whispered, “Just tell him your name.” I was going to do more than that. I entered the navy stage and all of a sudden I was there! Standing in front of me was President Clinton. For that moment, the most powerful man in the world held me and me alone in his sight and mind. I strode toward him and grasped his large outstretched hand, gripped it firmly and looked the President of the United States straight in the eye. I took in everything; his hair seemed more silver than grey, his face more tanned than ruddy, much more lined than two years ago, with the pressures of the office weighing physically on the man. But Presidential he was, and remarkably similar to JFK. We shook hands.

“Good morning Mr. President. My name is James D. Boys. I am interning here in DC from England. It is my greatest honour to meet you, and I’d like to wish you all the very best for 1996.”

The President smiled at me broadly and said, “Thank you, thank you very much. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Good luck in the United States.”

Throughout it all my mind was split between savouring the moment and also picturing the scene on the White House lawn when the man before me met my greatest hero. And now here I was shaking hands with the one President who shook hands with President John F. Kennedy.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash and realised that the moment in time had been captured forever, as I smiled and exchanged words with President Clinton. And that is the photograph which now hangs on my wall; forever young, forever youthful, my historic rendezvous with the President frozen in time. A moment to relive, a time never to forget, a rendezvous with destiny when the torch was passed once more to a new generation.

Before  I knew it, the moment passed. I felt numb with excitement. As I moved away I turned and saw Hilary talking to the President. The meeting was brief, but historic, a once in a lifetime opportunity, never to be forgotten.