But first, the story:
This past Sunday night, the leader of Triad (East) for Obama calls us to tell us that something big will be at Guilford County Democratic Headquarters Monday morning. Big. Barack Obama is confirmed to come to Greensboro and there will be a total of 2,000 tickets given away. By 9:15am Monday we have our tickets in hand:
Chris is off, and Kimberly works until 11am Wednesday. So the plan is this: Kimberly's seats down in Columbia were rather far away; Chris's seats up in Beckley were right up front. So, to be fair, Chris was to get to the Auditorium early and nab a close seat. Once Kimberly entered the Auditorium, she would take Chris's seat so she can see Barack up close. Then Chris would retire to the rear and watch the Town Hall from there. (There is no seat saving for these things, so that idea is right out in case you're wondering.)
Doors open at 11:00, so Chris gets there by 9:30 and is surprisingly about 350 people behind.
At least it's better than the line forming behind him, wrapping around the Coliseum:
And by the way, is it frowned upon to take a clandestine photo of a sniper?
Anyhoo, by 11:10 or so the line begins to move. Kimberly calls at 11:20 to say she is leaving the hospital. It appears that, regardless of ticket in hand, she may in fact NOT get in by the time she gets here (40 minutes or so) as the line is enormous.
Chris makes it through security, and as he is getting his phone, camera, and keys back into his pockets and his campaign buttons back on his "Hope" sweatshirt, he overhears, "Oooh, that guy in the sweatshirt. He looks like a good one!"
Crap. What now? A woman briskly walks up to Chris, presumably a reporter of some sort to get a sound bite of a "man on the street" quote.
"May I bother you, sir?"
- Sure.
"What is your name?"
- Chris.
"Would you like to sit onstage behind Senator Obama?"
- HOLY CRAP, WOULD I?!?!?!?!? Lead the way, fair maiden!
She walks me past the line to get in, down a side entrance and down the aisle. It feels like royalty. The upper crust bypassing the minions. In a matter of minutes, Chris is onstage behind the podium.
Freakin' SWEET!!!
Needless to say, a call was made to Kimberly to inform her that we would in fact NOT be trading seats. She did in fact make it in. She witnessed some who did not. But her seat was the third row from the top in the balcony. JUST made it. But at least it was closer than her seat in Columbia, SC.
It was absolutely AWESOME. It's funny how the seating occurs behind a candidate. Not only were people picked to get a good balance of demographics, but our actual seating in those three rows of seats were meticulously selected to maximize photo ops from any angle. Every picture view was to get the proper amount of whites, blacks, young, and old. Fascinating.
We had EXPLICIT instructions while onstage. No picture taking while he was talking. Do not shield your eyes from the hot bright lights. Do not cover your face. Do not look sad. They did not want any photo op to include a stage person with their faces covered. Interesting.
So now, Senator Obama comes out, and shakes the hands of the first two rows of folks. Hey wait! Chris is in the THIRD row! Hold on here!
Pardon the bluriness. Between his quick moves and Chris's nervousness, the camera was not cooperating with me.
Here's a better photo from online. (Notice the smashing fellow to the immediately right of the Senator's left knee.)
He spoke for about 35 minutes, and took questions for about an hour. Incredible.
So then, as he exits, he returns to the 3 rows of seats on stage and says, "I got the first two rows coming in. Now I owe the last row."
"I owe the last row." Are you kidding me? Chris is speechless and stammering like a little girl. The Senator takes Chris's hand and Chris virtually tearfully exclaims "Thank you, sir. THANK YOU for all you do." It was thrilling. Exhiliarating. Numbing.
(By the way, not to be a stalker, but he has enormous hands that are baby soft and smell like cocoa butter and baby oil.)
Unreal. Surreal. Life-altering. To personally shake the hand of someone who could conceivably be President of the United States.
Awe-inspiring.
So then, in thinking that afterward he may hit a "greasy spoon" to get a feel for the populace, we hit Fincastle's downtown for a greasy burger, greasy onion rings, delicious fries, and the popular concoction "Green Drink".
To no avail, no candidate sighting at our favorite greasy spoon diner. Damn.
In closing, check out this video on YouTube, especially at the 2 minute 17 second mark:
Wow. Just, wow.
[edit: We found more videos of the Town Hall, in three parts.]
Part one (with props to the best volunteer group of them all, "Triad for Obama"):
Part two:
Part three:
7 comments:
Oh ma gosh,
Someone in the family hob nob-in with the elite. Next thing ya know I won't have my phone calls answered by an answering machine...it'll be by the butler.
One thing Christopher will have to do is spend a few scheckels and take lessons in PHOTOGRAPHY!
While all the close encounters are taking place on stage from the 3rd row, POOR Kimberly is hanging on and slumped over the rail of the balcony screaming and yelling.
What an experience of a life time shaking hands with the next President of the USA. I am curious though.... Will that right hand EVER get washed now?
Later says,
Delta Wisconsin
I'm not one to curse that much, but that's pretty fucking amazing.
Congratulations on the awesome opportunity. You deserve it!
Here's for change we can believe in!
Has Chris washed his hand yet?
Scott
Congratulations. I did not get my ticket I was not there early enough. I am glad to see someone else as deserving and cool got in.
Joy
Way to go Guys, Niccccccccccccccccccceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!. Chris that is absolutley awsome. Good to hear from both of you.
Lou and Joyce
You lucky fuck.
I mean it was great when you were jetting down to the DR to help save a population. And when you kept us informed about Nick getting run down by a drunk. Sam's brush with death. And bionic Maxie. All good. All rivetting. But this is -- well -- I gotta tell ya, I get more from your blog than I do from The Washington Post.
You unbelievably lucky fuck.
Dear Mr. Gordon,
It has recently come to my attention that a glut of fraudulent emails have somehow penetrated my firewall and infiltrated the solidified intelligence bastion that is my email account. The situation appears to have worsened today as the archives were again feloniously accessed and another such email had arrived containing links to images of one "Christopher Gordon," a seedy character in his own right, in the apparent company of a noted Senator. Upon closer inspection by a personal connection at the photography wing of the Bureau in Raleigh, it is our conclusion that these images have been fabricated. Mr. Gordon was clearly never in spitting distance of Senator Obama... clearly. Good day to you sir.
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