The aide strolled out of the elevator and into the Senate chambers. We followed her closely, so that we would not get stopped by any angry Senators asking why a group of four kids were allowed on the floor. She turned and whispered to us, ”This is not an area most people get to see on their tour.” We moved towards the exit, and she pointed up. Sweeping up above our heads was the interior of the Capitol building’s rotunda. I feel so small. It was crowded, but I could feel the significance of standing in the center of our nation’s capitol. It was in the air, hidden in the murmur of voices, and the noise of the metal detectors beeping as a tourist forgot about his belt. It was in the act of looking up, being among the shortest people in the crowded hallway, watching news anchors and Congressmen racing around to various meetings.
The following day, we travelled to the White House. My grandfather’s friend, Senator Leahy of Vermont, had gotten us tickets for a tour of the building. It was supposed to be a great honor and a once in a lifetime chance, but I had to wake up at 4:30 in the morning to do it. In the early light, the side streets of Washington stood empty, save the occasional taxi dropping off someone from the airport. As the bus driver brought us to the front gate, we sat in the back of the empty bus and talked about our expectations.
“Whatever happens, you listen to the Secret Service agents. They are in charge, and take their job seriously, even if you are only an eleven year-old,” my grandfather lectured us. He turned towards me, “OWEN! Are you awake?”
“Mh- YES! I’m awake! Of course!” I had no clue what had just been said, but it sounded important. Even in my half awake state, I knew I should at least nod an answer. It was all a blur until we got through the metal detectors. By this time, the sun had started to rise. The plain-clothes agent came out, and was cheery enough to greet us.
“Welcome to the White House! I’m your guide today. Please follow me and do not tou…” I missed the rest, as my eyes drooped and I struggled to stay awake. If I hadn’t been so tired, the following events would have been avoided.
We followed the agent up through the back door and into the house of the most powerful leader in the world. The first space we saw was a small room with a marble floor. It seemed normal enough, like a mudroom. It had a set of narrow marble stairs running out of it. We continued, led by our agent.
“This is the East Garden Room,” she said excitedly. “In the corner, you can see two double doors. That is the outdoor path to the West Wing. Has anyone seen that show?” I felt my hand shoot up. I shuffled over to the door peered over. In my head, I could see Josh Lyman and Toby Ziegler looking at me in confusion. Next, we walked into the East Room, where the president makes lots of addresses. It was a huge hall, with portraits and mirrors stretching the entire length of the space.
In the Blue Room, approximately three quarters of the way through the tour, I needed to stop walking. I was practically a zombie, shuffling from room to room. As we entered this room, I looked around and saw a couch. I walked over, thought about it for a minute, and decided that sitting down was probably a poor choice. Then, I noticed a ladder in the corner. It was about eight rungs tall, and was made out of a green plastic. Some maintenance worker had probably left it in the corner. Well, that must be fine to sit on. It isn’t old, and it’s not being used. Besides, if I wasn’t allowed to sit, I would have probably been told, right? I need a quick breather.
I reached out and started to climb the ladder. I paused, and selected a rung to sit down upon. I heard a gasp from Rachel, my cousin. I turned around, and just as I got ready to sit down, three Secret Service Agents burst through the door, guns ready, fully prepared to take me out. I was only an eleven year old boy who had woken up too early. They barked at me to get down, an order to which I hastily obliged and climbed down. They patted me down, and took me out to the hallway. They asked me questions, and my grandmother came out. She asked me the same questions. Then, suddenly, one of the guys lifted up his arm and talked to his sleeve.
“All clear here, just a boy who woke up too early this morning.” I have never been so relieved to be let out of a conversation in my life. The agent that questioned me accepted my apology, and said that he completely understood. I was clearly terrified, so he told me about the time he fell asleep while driving with Vice-President, Joe Biden. In such a scary moment, hearing his story about his mistake made me relax and feel as though my mistake was not too bad.
After that, we finished the tour, but with an extra agent there watching us. By the time we finished the tour, I was more awake and embarrassed than I have ever been. I had seen halls of power, and I had made a complete fool of myself. How embarrassing.