ON THE WHITE HOUSE LAWN

Gorbachev was first to speak. It was the usual Russian rhetoric, but delivered with good nature, and grace. Gorbachev was very charismatic and you couldn’t help but like him immediately. It was as though he was someone’s grandpa up there – a likeable member of the family – and how I wished we could all just get along. The tone of the ceremony became one of cheer and hope.

Then Reagan spoke. In his eloquent manner, and with the aid of his fabulous speechwriter (as Studibert pointed out), President Reagan delivered a very warm, almost forgiving, yet firm welcome. Again we were filled with the sense that this event was a very important step in ending the ridiculous cold war between our two nations, and that trust and cooperation would be a much healthier way to deal with one another. I had no idea at the time that The Soviet Union was in mid-collapse and that Gorbachev had arrived this day on The White House Lawn, almost with his hat in his hand.

I liked the whole thing. I didn’t want to leave. This would never happen to me again in my whole life, so I wanted to hang around the lawn and just continue to drink in this heady atmosphere. And so my wish would be accommodated, as somewhere between the time that I had met Studibert and this point in time, he had decided that I proved to be acceptable enough to offer us both more of his time. He decided to take the rest of the afternoon off to let us remain on the lawn for a little while longer, and then take us on a tour of the rest of the Summit events. I took it as graceful good-nature, and would continue with this view of Studibert until the day in a not-too-distant future I breached "protocol," and the real Mr. Studibert showed up.

Looking back, I realize now, that people expected Fred to be married to someone less than plain-looking. Although Fred had been a nice looking young man when I married him, he had aged rather badly in the last 19 years. Since he had faked his way through most of his schooling, Fred often found himself in situations that outsmarted him, and left him a little dazed and confused and thus had relied on me to carry much of the day for him. Fred was not bright, but fancied himself as an intellectual. Fred was not amicable, but tried very hard to be one of “the good old boys.” Fred was also Hispanic, and I suspected that Studibert was using Fred’s appearance at this event to include a token minority. Fred never considered himself a minority, and so never put this together. I knew being Hispanic was one of Fred’s distinctions because people were always surprised when they met me that I was not Hispanic also. It seemed so silly in this era, but it was a fact that always bugged and amused me at the same time.

I didn’t find out about Studibert’s estimate of me until after we had left D.C., when Fred relayed the comment to me that Studibert was surprised at how “beautiful” I was (he was expecting a frau-frump because I was a stay-at-home-mom?). I was annoyed at this remark, and decided it was a crock. What a bizarre thing to say – especially to my husband. It was this remark that led to all the rest of the “Forrest Gump” stuff that happened to me from this point on.

With a little brighter gleam in his eye, Studibert became the gracious host and exclusive guide to our extraordinary adventure in D. C. that day. Studibert grinned a little more broadly as we climbed into one of the Zils and listened to The Beatles on the radio with the KGB’s Zil chauffeur. I figured that Studibert was just having fun through our personal discovery of the foreign empire that had invaded our nation’s capitol. Studibert was just a little too patient as we both watched Fred trying to converse with the rather stern-looking KGB-men. Although he appeared so calm and articulate in every situation I had observed that Studibert had a difficult time talking to me away from Fred. I was laughing at how much fun Studibert was having as he escorted us to the Marriott News Center for the Summit, where we were able to pick up all kinds of informational booklets, pamphlets, etc..

The Soviet news agencies also had some pretty incredible information available including an English copy of their Constitution (talk about fictional reading material!), information on various states such as Moldavia, etc. I knew my boys would love having this for their Social Studies projects, so Fred and I gathered all that we could carry to haul home to them.

Finally, it was the end of the day, and we had to catch our flight home. Studibert commented to Fred that there was a big ceremony planned to memorialize the conquest of Grenada in about 3 months and he would love it if we could make it. This seemed strange to me even at the time. What could Studibert possibly see in Fred that no one else could see, including me?

The Arrival Ceremony on The White House lawn experience was almost religious. Every single move I had made, every sight, sound, smell, and feeling would stay with me forever. I quickly went home and wrote down everything I could remember in my journal. These were important times, and I knew that someday my grandchildren would hear about what had happened, and a personal account would give it some special meaning. As I did this, and told all who would put up with listening to the story, world events began to happen that I would never dream I’d have a part in. I would soon find my life totally up-side down and embroiled in the formation of a new world.