Connie Wilson: White House Press Corps Member

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Sue Ann in the Press Box

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My
trusty Republican friend, Sue Ann, and I had just returned from my book
signing, in the scenic prison town of Canon City (7 miles from the
Royal Gorge). It was midnight. We had to gerry rig a “letterhead” from
the blog picture, provide the information requested, and fax it. We
also had phone numbers to call, which I did at 6 a.m. the day of the
event (no answers). It was midnight, the night before the event.



“But they won’t get this until the day of the event,” said Sue Ann.



I fixed her with a steely gaze. “That’s the beauty part, Sue Ann. It’s genius!



I’m
counting on it, in fact…That, plus your vast array of camera equipment.
Hang everything you own around your neck! We’ll either look very
official or we’ll look like lost Japanese tourists.”



We were
told not to bring purses, but to bring cameras. When we got to
Fiddlar’s Green (as it was once known) before 8 a.m., as required, big
signs said, “NO CAMERAS. NO PURSES. NO CELL PHONES.” Women were
scurrying back to their suburban matron SUV’s to leave unwanted items.



We had
taken cameras aplenty, cell phones aplenty, a notebook (in my case),
and the Kerry/Edwards media passes I had secured in Des Moines, plus a
copy of the Midnight Missive with our Blog for Iowa logo. [I don’t want
to disappoint our faithful readers, but they obviously did not know
what Blog for Iowa is.]



“Which way is the Press entrance?” we politely asked the first officer we saw directing traffic.



At
Checkpoint Charlie, the young man on the cell phone said, “Where are
your Press Passes?” I explained that we had just reached town last
night at midnight (true) and that we had faxed in our permission to
attend (also true). I mentioned the book tour through Colorado and the
fact that I did not know that Bush would be holding a rally while I was
in town (ALSO true.) I did not mention anything else. Ever.



“Where are your credentials from your last event?”



I produced the Kerry/Edwards Iowa event Media Pass from my notebook, cringing.



We made it to the next checkpoint, where we went through metal detectors and were “scanned.”



Jennifer, of the plunging black dress, irregular hemline, and slingback high heels said,



“You’ll have to wait here. You’re not on our White House approved Press Corps list.”



Well,
hell no!…..I wouldn’t be showing up on any Republican “approved” lists.
Unless it was a list of those most likely to be politely standing there
in the approved area next to the boathouse for a peaceful demonstration
in Cedar Rapids, only to be pinned to the ground, struggling. My
husband made me play golf that Friday and said, “You’re lucky I’m
making you play golf. Otherwise, they’d be slapping the cuffs on you
right about now in Cedar Rapids.”



As I
lined up to be scanned and searched at the second checkpoint, I was
just Middle-aged Midwestern Woman from the Hinterlands, armed only with
my Blog for Iowa letterhead, accompanied by a white-haired Episcopalian
deacon and wedding photographer, my “publicist.” I’m sure we looked
very dangerous, indeed.



Sue
Ann’s deceased mother, Arlene Raymond, my godmother, used to be Mrs.
Republican…a lobbyist, in fact, for the chiropractors in the state of
Iowa. Hence, Sue Ann had been getting these annoying phone calls about
the rally (and hanging up on them) for the five days I had been staying
with her. It wasn’t until Monday that I had this “Eureka” moment! I had
the idea that we could “crash” the party. Sue was not so sure whether
(a) we could crash the party or (b) if it was a really good idea to
try. We would soon find out. Bless her heart, she was a trooper!



Since
Jennifer had tottered off on her high heels to seek further
approval(s), I asked her, just before she departed, if I could go to
the bathroom while I waited, a rest room just to the left of the metal
detector entrance. Jennifer seemed unsure if she should allow me,…. a
woman old enough to be her mother, to urinate,… a natural bodily
function. She hesitated and then said, “Well…….ok.” I guess Republicans
never go. Did they think I was going to assemble a nuclear bomb in the
Women’s Rest Room in five minutes? Did I really appear to be that
nefarious. Me…who can barely work the micro-wave.



Did I
look that dangerous, dancing around in the “hold-it-in” elementary
school dance, that letting me out of her sight was dicey, or was
Jennifer just drunk with power? Fortunately, I did not really care if
she said “yes” or “no,” as I had drunk three cans of Diet Dr. Pepper
(with caffeine) at the crack of dawn in an attempt to wake up and was
fast becoming someone who needed to find a bathroom pronto. I was not
going to give the Republicans the satisfaction of wetting my pants
before the event.



When
Jennifer teetered back into view, she led us to the Press Area pictured
in my photo, which was approximately mid-Arena at the Coors
Amphitheatre. Sue Ann assumed her position on the risers, enduring some
abuse from other photographers for her late entry. I took up a position
just below, next to the Channel 4 anchorman, as it turned out, who
acted very blasé and whose only notes on the speech were “40 minutes.”
(I peeked.)