Our account execs and production crew are immersed in the minute-to-minute logistics involved with any event we execute, and handle everything (good and bad) with grace. My time is spent marketing the agency, so I’m not often exposed to the intimate machinations of events. After this recent experience, I have even more respect for my colleagues.
Vice President Joe Biden visited St. Louis in April to attend a Democratic National Party fundraiser and to preside over the “Middle Class Task Force” assembly at UMSL. I was invited to drive in the motorcade for two days, and I readily accepted. How difficult could this be, right? As it turns out, a bit.
Vice Presidential motorcade
After passing a background check and assembling the most conservative look I could muster, I arrived for briefing. Instructions were reviewed, swag was given (two pins), assignments were doled out, and then we waited. Eventually the other drivers departed, and after a little more waiting, I drove my advance team lead to the airport and checked in with Secret Service a few minutes late. The SS doesn’t care about traffic issues – late is late. The car was swept, sniffed, and cleared. A security badge was affixed to my jacket.
I followed Secret Service onto the tarmac just minutes before our “cargo” arrived. Dr. Jill Biden (the VP’s better half) and one assistant stepped off the plane and into a bulletproof Mustang driven by Secret Service. Her press secretary and another assistant stepped into my vehicle and then we were off in our four car motorcade: Secret Service, Mustang, Secret Service, me.
Blue and red flashing lights cleared the way until we reached the highway, and then there was nothing to indicate we were a motorcade unless you count the SS car swerving around in front of me. It’s not easy to stay right on the bumper of a swerving, speeding SUV…in the first part of rush drive time…without crashing…and with an already airsick passenger. I began to think this was a very, very bad idea. Several quick lane changes were made and I had to drive aggressively to follow my orders, which were DO NOT GET SEPARATED UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. One SUV would not allow me to change lanes and became irate when I quickly followed White House instructions to GET INTO THE LANE NOW. Road rage ensued. The angry driver chased us for almost two miles, swerving toward me and the vehicle in front of me, as if to drive us off the road. The guy has absolutely no idea how close he came to prison. I know exactly how close I came to losing my cookies. When Dr. Biden opted not to go out to dinner that evening, I was quite relieved. I had to steel myself for the next day.
Friday morning, after chucking the conservative look, I arrived at my post for two hours of getting swept, sniffed, and in the right formation. Ultimately my cargo was a press liaison, and film equipment for the Sixty Minutes documentary crew. I delivered everything to UMSL, the site of the “Middle Class Task Force” assembly…and then waited for three hours. In the vehicle. With no radio. In the sun. I completed all the work I’d brought with me and was losing my mind. I don’t wait so well, apparently. I entertained myself for a few minutes by taking photos of my sassy red shoes, ate a vice presidential pear, and got a sunburn on the left half of my body.
Finally I received orders to deliver Dr. Cecelia Rouse, Council of Economic Advisers, to the airport and then deliver the Sixty Minutes equipment to Air Force 2 at a private airport. The other drivers would take the VP entourage to two goodwill stops involving youth, then rendezvous with everyone at Air Force 2.
Almost three hours went by while I waited with an FBI leader, assorted community muckety-mucks, and many Secret Service men. Ask me what kinds of crimes are handled by which agency…go ahead, I know now!
When the motorcade was near we got into place by Air Force 2. The wind was pretty strong, the jet engines added to the gale…and I was wearing a skirt. The drivers and other volunteers joined the lineup, and then the greetings began. I‘m not sure why, but I got a handshake – and then a hug.
I think it was the shoes.
This post was written by...
Tammy Derrigan – who has written 27 posts on Javelin Experiential.
Dir. of Marketing: rocker | culture vulture | social media habitué
