REAGAN, GORBACHEV & ME, (continued)

I was surprised at what a homely man Studibert was. There he was, looking like a cartoon turtle at about 5’10”, thick, black hair; fat stubby nose; no upper lip; black-rimmed glasses; dark blue suit, white shirt and red power tie. He was extremely overweight, about 40ish, and moving around with a Cheshire grin directing traffic, making small decisions, and looking quite self-important. Fred hailed him down, and Studibert very officially motioned to one of his lackey’s to fetch us over to where he was, behind the desks. He gave a quick word to the Secret Service guy beyond the barricade, and we were permitted entrance into Studibert’s domain. Fred was feeling extremely special about now, and I was just drinking in all the antics, maneuvers, and fuss as I followed along rather awestruck at the whole event.

The morning was cool and crisp. My hair had survived sleeping on the airplanes, and surprisingly enough -- was looking fairly decent in the humidity of the D.C. area (it’s funny what you think about at times like this: i.e. is my lipstick on straight? Am I dressed appropriately?, etc.). I was glad I had chosen to wear my long, straight khaki-gold wool skirt and navy and gold sweater to the event. I was even glad that I had brought along the coat that Fred had found at one of the gates of at the airport. Fred was always “finding” things at the airport and bringing them home instead of taking the items to the airport lost and found. This was how he shopped for birthday and anniversary presents – stealing from forgetful, hurried passengers sometime near the event he normally would have ignored. I may have been wearing a stolen coat, but I was grateful for the warmth it provided (but,how I wish I could have been at that event in a coat I actually owned)!

Studibert was somewhat in charge (being the “Advance Man” and all). He explained that everything had been timed down to the minute. The speed of the Zil (the Russian limo) was timed exactly to the music, “Rushes and Flourishes” the Marine band would be playing, so that the Zil would stop precisely when the music stopped, and Gorbachev would step out when the last note sounded. He commented (because he was “in-the-know”) on how ridiculous Gorbachev’s request had been that he fly onto the lawn in his helicopter. Gorbachev was apparently put-out that he was not allowed to fly over secure, White House airspace, but was required to land at Andrews AFB and drive from there. We chuckled at Gorbachev’s stupidity, and at our being such “insiders” regarding this request. Studibert also pointed out the fact that any and all Marine’s attached to the White House were extremely tall. This was a requirement so that they could see out over the crowds of people. “It was true,” I observed. “They were all very tall, and seemed to not notice anything that was going on around them. Kind of like the guards at Buckingham Palace,” I thought smugly.