R and J in the USA

At the William J. Clinton Presidential Museum and Library there is a replica of President Clinton’s Oval Office. It was news to us that each president’s Oval Office, is in fact, different – one of those facts that, once you think about it, seems obvious, but not something to which you ever had reason to give more nuanced thought before encountering it. Visitors were not allowed to walk in the Oval Office unless they wanted to get their picture at the resolute desk – which we did, even though we knew we’d probably have to pay a ridiculous amount of money to get possession of the pictures. We considered it a must-do experience and an opportunity to contribute to the museum and so, we went for it. 

Lewis was a museum volunteer that opened up the velvet rope and walked us up to the photographer who gave us the instructions on where to put our jackets. Neither of us had dressed for any presidential duties, but we were prepared to step up to the call of pretend leadership regardless. 

When the photographer asked us who wanted to sit in the President’s chair, neither of us hesitated in knowing exactly who would take the seat. Ryan stepped back and Julie stepped forward in unison. Ryan’s job was to stand by Julie’s side and take important phone calls while Julie signed a bill into law (one that was written in invisible ink). Ryan was there to temper any risk that Julie might get drunk on the power, and he did his job successfully so. Julie served her imaginary 3 minute term with focus and integrity.

But, even better news, we got a conversation started with Lewis, the volunteer. 

He told us of how he had actually known Bill Clinton from when he had been addressed as Governor.

”Believe it or not,” Lewis proclaimed with some hint of pride, “I used to be a registered lobbyist.” 

It actually was hard to believe. Whether fair or not, we both tended to have a view of a lobbyist as a hard-headed political driver and Lewis had the most jovial, humble and friendly of manners, so his approach to announcing his role was actually apt.

Before long, we learned that Lewis had some familiarity with upstate NY.

”My mother was from there. She was form a town that nobody has heard of.”

We both figured we know New York pretty well, maybe not every single town, but we thought it was worth finding out the name to see if we might know of it.

We have since forgotten the name of the town, but we do recall that it was one we had definitely never heard of. It was “something” Springs. 

“You won’t find it on google maps.” Lewis said as we had pulled out our phones and were just about to look for it on google maps. “It doesn’t even exist anymore.”

”Oh, wow,” Julie said, “one of those situations where a town fades away into history as economies and populations ebb and flow.”

Lewis nodded in agreement. He didn’t know where in New York the town had beenlocated. 

“Well, there is a Saratoga Springs, I wonder if it was near that?” Julie proposed.

Lewis’ face lit up a bit. “Yes! It was near there.”

It might not seem like the most exciting of conversations, but, one thing we have learned on this trip is that place matters. Somehow it matters deeply, and just being able to know where a place is that means something to someone is a bridge to something. And, if you’ve actually been in a place that means something to someone, it means even more, and some kind of bridge of connection starts to form from there. It is something we’ve come to appreciate more and more as we travel to so many places and have so many interactions. There is a special thing that happens between people and the places they have lived their lives in. It seems that to acknowledge a place is, at least in small part, a step towards acknowledging the person that knows that place so well.

Our conversation with Lewis turned to other presidential libraries, and it soon became clear, this is a man that knows his presidential oval offices. We mentioned how we had recently been in Texas and he asked if we had visited the presidential museums there.

”We only got to see LBJ’s.” We reported.

He immediately reached into his stack of laminated pictures of Oval Offices and pulled one out. 

“Recognize this?” He said.

”Yes! That was LBJ’s Oval Office – the replica on the top floor of the museum.” Julie responded.

”Wasn’t that one only 2/3rds the size?” Ryan postulated.

Lewis jumped in with a level of confidence that made it clear, this was a man that knew his stuff.

”⅞ size.” He said.

We were not only finding Lewis interesting to talk to, but engaging too – and we asked if we could write about him for our blog. He was happy for it and raised the ante, “If you want to write about it, I’ve got some stories for you!”

We had worn out our welcome inside the Oval Office, but continued our conversation with Lewis just outside of it.

”Did you see President Clinton’s cabinet table replica on the second floor?” He asked.

We both nodded, eager to hear the story that was surely to follow.

”That was made here in Arkansas, and if you peel back the layer of leather, all 300 people that worked in that factory to build it, signed their names.” Lewis was excited about the story, and we found the story and his enthusiasm for it equally entertaining.

Ryan ended up in a conversation with another museum volunteer while Julie and Lewis carried on. 

“This is the first Presidential Museum we’ve been to where we both lived through the events described.” She said.

”Well, lived through and remember them.” Lewis added, reminding Julie that there were presidents that she may have been around for before she was ready to form any memories.

Julie paused to think and then doubled down, “No, actually, the first one that we’ve lived through at all.”  She reflected.

Ryan had been alive for Nixon followed by Ford, where his first memories of awareness of a President reside. Not just his first memories of a president, but his first memories of voting. He was in kindergarten at the time, but he remembers casting his first presidential vote in the election between Ford and Carter in 1976 – of course, this was the election that his kindergarten teacher conducted with the class, so his vote may not have been as heavily weighted. Julie joined Ryan on the planet (though not yet joining him personally) during the Carter administration, but her memories of a President didn’t come online until Reagan – and those memories were those formed by a young mind that understood little more than that Reagan was the man in charge. Up until her preteen years, at any mention of God, Julie remembers picturing a man whose face was a combination of George Burns and Ronald Reagan – the two most godly figures she had encountered by that time. Out of all of the presidents from our lifetimes, starting with Nixon, Clinton’s was the first whose library we had been to. It was a neat experience to recontextualize all the others we had seen that were simply a part of history to us next to what it felt like to read the same kinds of placards and exhibits of things we had lived through and had been able to see more perspectives and nuances than could be reported fully in a museum.

Lewis talked about all the ways he was glad that the Presidential Museum was here in Little Rock, not the least of which was its effect in bringing tourists to Little Rock that wouldn’t otherwise do so, like ourselves. 

Julie talked about what she had been enjoying about Little Rock and Arkansas thus far. Lewis mentioned that Arkansas certainly has its problems too.

”Like what?” Julie inquired, “I know so very little about Arkansas.” 

“Well, literacy rate, for one.” Lewis commented.

”Oh, I guess I did know that, somewhere in the back of my mind.” Julie commented and was curious to learn more.

Lewis had lots of stories to tell and he was clearly excited and interested to be there to share his knowledge and his experience with tourists. It is always nice to meet anyone that is interested in what they are doing and double nice to do so when they are welcoming, knowledgeable and with stories to share.

Thanks to a lovely visit with Lewis, our short term in the Oval Office was educational and fruitful and, otherwise, unlike most that take on the task of sitting at the resolute desk, thankfully, entirely uneventful.