(Background: Betsy has a son who is severely handicapped and serves on a board to help these kids. She also owns a bookstore and is on a board of independent booksellers.)
"One day last fall when I was deep in a book, the phone rang. As I’d already fielded calls from two political campaigns soliciting money, my tone was testy as I barked, “Hello?”
“Is this Elizabeth Burton?” a spritely female voice inquired. I knew it, another solicitor. “Yes, this is BETSY Burton.”
“This is the White House calling.” She sounded young, really young—about 12.
As my mind searched through friends’ voices for the identity of the one who had decided this would be a fine day for a practical joke, I almost said, “Sure, and I’m Michelle Obama.” But something stopped me—some instinct for caution—and I echoed the words I had just heard. “The White House?”
There was incredulity in my tone and reassurance in hers as she told me her name and the reason for her call. She wanted to know whether I’d be interested (INTERESTED? I thought hysterically) in flying to Washington the next day to participate in a “backyard discussion” with President Obama.
. . .
I was among 14 participants who went to Washington for a backyard colloquium—some mothers of children with medical conditions, some uninsurable adults from different walks of life, some medical and law students, and one other small business owner. We gathered at Health and Human Services at 7 a.m., did interviews alongside Kathleen Sebelius (down-to-earth, intelligent, kind), and then were bused off to Virginia—where we met with President Obama. He spoke about health care and then asked us questions, took questions from us about our particular situation. . .
Fast-forward four months. I’m back in Washington, this time to attend a January board meeting of the American Booksellers Association, to be followed by Winter Institute, the annual educational meeting of inde- pendent booksellers. We board members have been alerted to the fact that there’s a slim possibility we’ll be asked to present books to the White House library. Tradition has it that during Herbert Hoover’s first night in the White House, restless and unable to sleep, he searched high and low for a good book to read. Unsuccessful
and frustrated, he finally asked a guard if he could borrow one.
Booksellers, . . . promptly presented the President with a collection of books for the White House library, and have been doing so with each change of administration ever since. The sitting President always received the gift until George W. Bush took office—he left the task to his wife. So, while there was some reason to suppose that President Obama might do as most of his predecessors had and accept the gift personally, there were equal reasons to suppose he wouldn’t: China’s President Hu was in town for a state visit, our country was still reel- ing from the horrifying shooting in Tucson, and the President was due to deliver the State of the Union Address in less than a week. I mean, who had time to meet with nine booksellers? Barack Obama, that’s who.
Needless to say, I didn’t sleep much that night. None of us did. We were whisked to the White House in cabs and waited nervously in the West Wing, looking around in disbelief as if we had been set down in Antarctica or Versailles. Finally, we were summoned down the hall, and there was President Obama at the door to the Oval Office, hand outstretched to greet us. One by one we shook his hand and when it was my turn he cocked his head and said, “Hey, I know you.” He waited a beat, and when I was too tongue-tied to respond (a 64-year-old blushing teenager), he added with that same teasing smile, “But you might not remember me.”
LOL
It came to me as a PDF file but you can find it here:
http://www.kingsenglish.com/ go down the left hand column to "Inkslinger". It's the late Winter 2011 edition.
Printer-friendly format
Email this thread to a friend
Bookmark this thread
(1000+ posts)
Send PM |
Profile |
Ignore
