by Freida Marie Crump
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Greetings from the Ridge.
It was a hard bargain, but I won. Herb agreed to go to Barack Obama’s Presidential announcement as long as we stayed in a hotel named after a Republican.
8:30 p.m. We check in to the Abraham Lincoln Hotel in Springfield, Ill. Stood in line behind “Texans for Obama.” The leader wears an Obama-rama sweatshirt. Herb thinks it’s a ride at Disney. As we ride up to the ninth floor a reporter from Boston asks a Springfield policeman, “Big deal for a little town like this, isn’t it?”The policeman says, “We had the President last year. Not as big a deal, though.” Herb starts to join in the conversation and I drop my suitcase on his foot.
8:45 p.m. I put Herb in bed to watch Fox news while I cruise the locale. I join a group from Maryland and a lone New Yorker to walk down to the Old State Capital. Sixth Street was chock-a-block with satellite trucks. I feel like a shrunken Alice in Media-land walking through the maze of mushroom-like dishes, some as big as a small house.
9:30 p.m. Return to the Abraham Lincoln Hotel to see the Obama Investigative Committee arrive. Don’t know a soul. They didn’t touch their own luggage. Maybe it was being investigated.
9:40 p.m. Peeking out our window I see the sound equipment arrive across the street at the Hilton. Obama will have no trouble being heard.
10 p.m. I return to the lobby. Lots of southerners shocked by the Illinois weather. A noise erupts down the hallway and I hurry down thinking that Oprah has arrived. It’s the Texans for Obama. They’ve found the bar.
10:15 p.m. CNN’s TV crew arrives. They’re short fellas and each carries his own portable ladder. They talk about George Clooney being in town for the announcement. I leave my name at the check-in desk in case he wants to look me up. He doesn’t.
11 p.m. Return to my room to find Herb dozing with the TV at full blast. The excitement has obviously taken its toll.
2 a.m. I get out of bed to stretch my back. I think they’ve given us Lincoln’s original bed.
7 a.m. Up and at ‘em and the weather man stops me in my pajama-ed tracks with the announcement of an 11 below chill factor. I look at Herb asleep in the bed and opt for the wind chill.
7:45 a.m. Thinking we are way early for a 10 a.m. speech, we are wrong. The line is already stretching three blocks from the site. I’m no good at estimating crowd sizes so I’ll make a guess of 3 billion. Give or take a few. I drag Herb to the end of the line and the grousing begins.
8:30 a.m. We are now as frozen as any previous time in our marriage. Most of our extremities have long past the ache stage and have settled into full-blown numbness. Button and souvenir hawkers work the waiting line, and then we see a sight that may change Herb’s politics forever. Obama volunteers are moving up and down line handing out free donuts and coffee. We’d skipped breakfast and Herb makes a dash for the pastry. I grab his collar and tell him he is about to eat a Democrat donut. At this point he’d eat a communist bagel. I smiled.
8:35 a.m. Instead of waiting until the appointed 9 a.m. to open the gates, they move things up and a surging mass of humanity shuffles its frozen way toward the campaign grounds. Two very large security men look at us and wave us on. There’s nothing more harmless than being old unless it’s being frozen old.
8:55 a.m. On the grounds of the Old State Capital and the weather’s even colder. Herb nestles into the folds of my Carhartt’s. I tell him he’s sweet. He tells me I’m warm. Ah, romance.
9:30 a.m. Various members of Obama’s campaign work the crowd trying to keep us entertained. They throw Obama stocking hats into the audience. Herb ducks. I kick him out of my Carhartt.
10 a.m. Right on cue, a roar comes up from the crowd. The state policemen stationed on the surrounding buildings turn their binoculars right to where we’re standing. For a moment I assume they’ve spotted Herb, but right in front of us pops up Obama himself. Even Herb cheered.Twenty minutes of Obama speaking and we are shuffling toward the parking garage, having absolutely no idea where our feet are, but glad we froze. Herb is impressed but it’ll wear off as soon as he thaws.
You ever in Coonridge, stop by. We may not answer the door, but you’ll enjoy the trip.