Wilmington Weekend Update #15

It’s been a few weeks since the last Update, and for the most part they’ve been uneventful. We had work, soccer, errands, Halloween, meeting the President at the White House, the usual. But I get ahead of myself…

Halloween we all dress up in matching outfits. The best was definitely The Incredibles two years ago. The worst was “your favorite TV character” last year, where we learned almost no one watches Avatar or Project Runway. In fact we revived The Incredibles for a Halloween party at our friend Lunsford King’s Saturday before Halloween.

Sunday we carved pumpkins.

Wednesday Margaret took off so she could serve cookies and cupcakes at all three children’s Halloween parties in succession. (One of the moms in Abby’s class was frustrated the children wouldn’t decorate their pumpkin cookies just like the ones in Martha Stewart Living and was annoyed when Margaret refused to count out equal candies for each child.)

Margaret gets a kiss from her littlest alien.

Margaret got the kids home and costumed and eventually I made it in from the hospital. Then we all set off dressed as five matching aliens to join the Vogels, the Harrises, the Sauses, and the Weavers.

Our costumes seemed inspired in the store, but it turns out they’re not very breathable. Or visible. Or tolerable. So within three houses Julian had shed his altogether. We realized after ten houses Abby and Sellers are getting too big to pull in a wagon, especially uphill. We did get a decent candy haul, although it fell short of Julian’s expectations that his bag would be full after the first house. We gave up early and consumed the best parts of our stash before turning in for a late bedtime. That’s right; the pediatrician’s kids had a dinner of Reese’s with a side of Skittles. Look, we brushed their teeth, okay?

Abby and Sellers had their last soccer practices Thursday, which they attended only in order to “kick the parents’ butts” in the traditional parent-kid soccer games. The parents pulled it out for the first time ever against Sellers’s team, defeating a bunch of five-year-olds. We felt good about ourselves. But it didn’t last, as Abby’s team did indeed kick our butts. Then there was pizza, cake, and trophies in the YMCA’s muggy, uh cozy, little conference room.

Saturday we awoke at 4:30 AM to pack for our trip to DC. Francis had awoken us ten days prior with the late-night news the White House had called and he was to receive the Presidential Medal of Freedom (http://www.medaloffreedom.com/ ). He had room for us in his posse, so we scrambled for tickets while Diane worked on finding us sweet suites just two blocks from their townhouse. The whole thing was under press embargo for the first week, so we had to tell only the several dozen people we most trusted.

By 11:30 we were on a plane headed for Charlotte.

The flight was smooth. The Charlotte to Baltimore leg not so much. Julian peed through his pull-up and ran down the aisle unclothed while I tried to dry his jeans with the air vents. Then he really didn’t want to sit down and fasten his seat belt, much less return his seatback and tray table to their original upright positions. But we felt much better after an effusive woman stopped Margaret in the Baltimore gangway and said, “You know, all things considered, I think you guys did great. I have two children, and so many of the other passengers were complaining about your family, but they just don’t know what it takes!” Um…thanks?

Diane outdid herself as always, booking us two adjoining rooms at the Marriott and furnishing them with gift baskets full of crayons, coloring books, even outlet covers. The hotel was teeming with contestants in the Miss Maryland and Miss Teen Maryland pageants, many of whom seemed to enjoy talking with children. Never have the kids seen so many sequins!

Then it was on to the townhouse where all the sisters/brothers-in-law/cousins could play together for the first time since August.

The medal ceremony was scheduled for Monday, November 5th, so Sunday the 4th was given over to preparations. We started at the townhouse where Diane prepared a Belgian waffle brunch so the Hills and Frakers could meet our sitters from White House Nannies. Semme and Bebe, two African women with long CV’s in the nanny business, were lovely and the children took to them immediately. After brunch Diane, Margaret, Liz, Abby, and Bailey all took off for manicures while Michael put Norah to bed at the hotel and the boys and I wandered the townhouse grounds in search of something to do. We stumbled across an Argentine diplomat’s daughter who shared her Barbie Power Jeep with the boys, much to my relief.

After a couple of hours Diane returned while the remaining females went to get Abby a haircut and gather sundry supplies. Around 4:30 Francis arrived after 20 hours of travel from an African genetics conference in Cairo where he’d been keynote speaker. In minutes he had the boys on the Harley for what may be the only motorcycle rides they get in their whole lives (just in the parking lot, but still don’t tell my handlers from the AAP). I even hopped on myself for a tour around the block. It was fun, but I’m not ready to buy my own helmet just yet.

The women/girls returned and we had takeout Indian food and we all watched Because of Winn Dixie, the movie we put on to entertain the kids so the adults could talk. Then it was back to the Marriott to rest up for the Big Day.

The Big Day started at 6:00 AM with room service, Starbucks, and a push to get everyone bathed and dressed. We came close enough to our planned 7:30 departure for the White House with the Hill clan bringing up the rear as always. But the Beltway traffic gods were kind to us, and while Margaret read off the Wikipedia biographies of the other awardees Francis got us to the White House gates in time to get in line with the limos bringing the other distinguished guests and their posses. We met some very nice Secret Service officers and their bomb-sniffing dogs, then our party got out and walked toward the White House while Francis parked.

We entered through a construction passage covered in plywood to find ourselves in a hallway looking out on the First Lady’s Garden.

There we were met by our very own White House Social Officer, Jason, an Air Force officer with lots of gold braid who launches Space Shuttles when he’s not showing people around the White House. We struck out immediately for the bathrooms, where those of us with purses managed to cop a handful of gold-embossed White House paper napkins (your tax dollars at work!). The men’s room is at the side of a cozy little library adorned with paintings of Native American heroes and sporting a book in which Francis’s father, Fletcher, is referenced (we have a photo). The ladies room is in another lovely nook decorated with paintings of various First Ladies.

Then it was on to the upstairs where we mingled to the sounds of the Marine Corps Band (accomplished musicians who can kill a man twelve ways with their bare hands, fifteen with a bassoon).

We met the rest of party, including Francis’s three top lieutenants from Genome, the chief lobbyist for the American Academy of Pediatrics, founders of the American Academy of Achievement Wayne and Katherine Reynolds, and former Congressman John Porter, who had helped fund Genome. Then Jason whisked Francis away and directed the rest of us to our assigned seats in the front two rows to the left of the podium.

Margaret, Liz, Diane, and Congressman Porter took the front row seats, and Michael and I found ourselves seated in front of Benjamin Hooks’ party from Memphis including Auto Zone founder Pitt Hyde and his wife Barbara. I found I had worked one summer with Andy Dancy, a great-nephew of Dr. Hooks’ wife, so we had something to talk about, sort of (she could charm a rock, so I felt good anyway). Then the crowd quieted and the honorees were ushered in one at a time. First was Nobel Laureate in Economics Dr. Gary Becker. Next came the son of Cuban dissident Dr.Elias Biscet (Biscet himself is confined to a rather unpleasant Cuban jail cell at the moment so couldn’t attend). Then Francis, followed by Dr. Benjamin Hooks, the son of former Congressman Henry Hyde (no relation to Pitt), CSPAN founder Brian Lamb, To Kill a Mockingbird author (and famous recluse) Harper Lee, and Liberian President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf.

Next the Marine Corps Band struck up Hail to the Chief (Really! Ohmigod!) and in came The Chief.

Now many of you are aware Margaret and I have some disagreements with this administration. I won’t review the usual litany except to add that as a pediatrician the SCHIP vetoes (not one, but two) stung a bit. But when the President of the United States is standing two yards away, it doesn’t matter. It’s just AWESOME! Whoever wrote the speech did a lovely job, and his delivery was heartfelt, probably because of the theme of honoring people who stood their ground to do what they felt was right often against popular opposition.

When Francis stepped forward for the President to snap the Medal of Freedom around his neck (there are actually three snaps on the blue grosgrain ribbon for an adjustable fit) he beamed. Then Francis leaned in to the President and quietly suggested he was in the mood to sing. (The White House staff had previously explained that Francis’s performance at the National Prayer Breakfast would be his only musical engagement for 2007.)

Wayne and Katherine Reynolds just beyond Laura Bush

After the ceremony the President preceded everyone to the Green Room for photo-ops (Why isn’t there a song for when he leaves? So-Long to the Chief? Hail, There He Goes?). Jason lined us up in the desired order and a lady confiscated all purses, cameras, and programs before ushering us in to stand next to The Chief. I’ve thought many times about what I would say to George W. Bush given the opportunity. And suddenly, there I was, shaking his hand (warm, dry, well-moisturized) and looking into his surprisingly tired, puffy face. I looked him right in the eye, took a big breath and said, “Uh, it’s an honor to meet you Mr. Bush.” If he replied I can’t quite remember what he said, but I’m pretty sure I got my point across. Let’s see him veto SCHIP a third time! The flash went off and we were out of there, heading for the State Dining Room for a buffet.

Actually not all of us went straight to the chafing dishes. Margaret asked Jason to run her back to the ladies’ room, where she was certain she’d lost her grandmother’s college class ring from 1930 which she’d worn in Grandmommy’s honor. There with the help of Karen from the AAP Margaret dug through two bags of Official White House Trash. Not everyone wears pearls and heels to rifle through wadded-up napkins with the gold-embossed Great Seal on them, but then I challenge you to find a single article offering fashion advice for this situation. Margaret eventually found the ring in her purse. Fortunately she never lost her sense of humor.

In the meantime I was fulfilling my duty as a Hill - eating. Juggling pink champagne and a plate of mini crab cakes and quiches made it hard to greet the Congressman from Memphis and the Governor of Tennessee, and I did have to flick some spittle from Congressman Porter’s sleeve during our conversation, but damnit how often do you get to eat at the White House, even just heavy hors d’ouvres? The desserts were the weakest course; if you’re looking for dessert in DC, I suggest you try the Senate Chambers or maybe the Supreme Court. But hey, they were free!

At this point Francis and Diane were in line to get Harper Lee to sign copies of To Kill A Mockingbird for us.

Margaret and I found each other again and took a moment to pause for a picture under the portrait of Abraham Lincoln.

As the Marine Corps Band struck up the slow-time-to-leave-the-White-House-now music we got a few more photos in various places and then, reluctantly, followed Jason’s gentle advice that we stroll toward the parking lot so he could get back to launching Space Shuttles (apparently it really is rocket science).

The Collins-Hill-Fraker clan beneath the portrait of Dolly Madison, inventor of the cupcake.

John Porter with Diane and Francis

But the celebration was far from over. We returned to the townhouse where Diane whipped up a quick gourmet lunch and we re-dressed the kids for the big reception at the National Institutes of Health. (They kept on the Medals of Freedom they'd made for themselves with the nannies.) There not only were they not unwelcome, people really wanted to meet them. Abby and Bailey stayed within a few yards of Granddad at all times, while the boys hung out with Diane. This time Francis did get to sing, although the guitar, resentful at having missed the White House event, attacked him in the lower lip just as he began.

Finally we all made it back to the townhouse where we were able to change into fuzzy clothes and dive into takeout sushi and Chinese food. There was wine, more singing, and general relaxation. None of us could quite believe the day we’d had.

Tuesday one of Diane’s friends drove us to the airport, and our trip back was uneventful except that Abby got to sit next a to a real pilot briefly.

The cousins catch a last few minutes of play time in the hotel.

This week has been fine, but nothing that can’t wait until the next blog entry. Now I’m going to wrap it up and go run my hands one more time over my real White House cocktail napkin.

PS: Liz emailed us the following links:

http://www.c-span.org/
Choose link “Presidential Medal of Freedom Awards 11/05/2007” (if you look closely, you’ll see Liz and Diane, to the left of the President!)

http://www.genome.gov/
Has NIH video of event, info about project, transcript of event, and info about the genome project