With just two minutes to make it nearly five blocks or lose our chance to cover a speech by the president of the United States, my photographer and I began our sprint to the proper security checkpoint, filled with anxiety and doubt.
I knew I could make the five-block trek despite wearing dress shoes and a suit, but my photographer had the misfortune of hauling a backpack full of heavy equipment and had similar clothing restraints in the 80-degree heat.
And even if we did survive the mad dash, it was questionable whether the Secret Service and local law enforcement agency would believe we were college journalists rather than devious party crashers. Needless to say, this was not exactly how I had envisioned the morning panning out.
Many professional journalists never get the chance to cover the president. Lantern multimedia editor Andy Gottesman and I did it twice this summer.
First visiting Columbus in mid-June, I attended President Barack Obama’s speech on the economy outside Nationwide Children’s Hospital with colleagues Andy and Misty Geyer. Our first experience as media with the president was painless.
After filling out a media credential request online, making our way through a barrage of police to the designated parking area and being patted down by the Secret Service, the three of us made it into the event with no major hassle.
So in August when I was asked to cover Obama’s second visit to Columbus during the summer, having already gone through the process, I expected the second time through to be much the same.
Nothing could have been further from the truth.
The credential request process was the same. Everything else was far more nerve-wracking, and in the case of our impromptu exercise session, sweat-producing, as well.
The president’s visit was unique, as he was meeting with a Clintonville family and 30 or so neighbors in the family’s backyard. I expected the event’s location to be undisclosed until shortly before the event.
So going to bed the night before, still without receiving an e-mail with information regarding the location, I was a bit skeptical but figured I was just being paranoid. When I awoke the following morning, still with no information on the location, paranoia turned to pandemonium.
I turned to the White House media contact provided to me, who named the location and assured me that if I showed up and provided her colleague’s name to security, we would be set. I was still skeptical.
On our arrival, my first conversation with the Secret Service at the end of the family’s street was rather unproductive, as they simply explained they couldn’t let us in without a credential. After we briefly explained who we were and who we were looking for, they let us in to find our media contact.
Though we had cleared what we thought to be our biggest hurdle, little did Andy and I know our adventure had just begun.
“Initial contact with the White House communications department seemed very smooth and organized and that they had a clear idea of what was going on to issue a proper credential,” Andy said. “Upon arrival it was utter chaos due to lack of communication between the Secret Service and local authorities.”
After getting past the Secret Service, we encountered two local police officers halfway to the house, who in an attempt to exert their macho authority sternly refused to let us in and would allow no discussion of the matter.
At this point I called our White House media contact in an attempt to enlist her help to get us in. In our brief conversation, I explained our exact location, and she said she would meet us there shortly.
After waiting 10 minutes, being told we would soon be sent out by the police, and two phone calls later, I made another call to our media contact. As luck would have it, she was about four or five blocks from us. She made very clear it was “our fault” we weren’t where she was by so eloquently yelling at me over the phone.
Following her declaration that we had two minutes to get where she was or else we weren’t going to get in to the event, Andy and I began running to her location. Not jogging, running! Naturally, sporting common workout attire of dress shoes, khakis and a button-up shirt, our five-minute run in the summer heat left us nice and fresh and in high spirits on our arrival at the correct entrance.
Although we were not quite able to meet the two-minute deadline, Andy and I were eventually admitted into the event. After being patted down by security, it was business as usual.
And if you really want to know what it takes to cover a speech by the most powerful man in the world, I will gladly share my knowledge gained through this experience, but only if you can make it through security. You have two minutes.
