I happened to be at my district office in Westminster, and Marilyn had just started working there as an unpaid intern. While I was there, a call came in and Marilyn answered it, and it was from a woman in Westminster, and she was complaining about something. Marilyn was telling the woman how I was a Congressman and worked in Washington and was very important, and how she needed to call somebody in Westminster to handle such a small problem, and the whole conversation was going downhill quickly. I called a quick time-out and took the phone, and I asked the lady what the problem was. She told me her garbage hadn't been picked up and wanted to know who was going to fix this! I took down her name and address and phone number and told her I would take care of it. Then I asked her why she had called me, and not the town. Her response? She didn't want to bother anybody important right off the bat!
So always remember the real reason you have been sent here. Your job in Washington is not to be important and do lofty things. Your job in Washington is to clean up the garbage. Good luck!"
As always, this got a lot of laughs, including from my properly embarrassed wife, who I had rescued back in 1991.
And so it went. The weekend before the Inauguration the staff packed us up and moved everything out, sending it either to Hereford or over to the house on 30th Street. The kids all came over to grab anything they had left behind, or it was going into storage. Marilyn and I moved over to the 30th Street house, giving everybody plenty of time to move the McCain's belongings over from the Naval Observatory. We spent the night of the 19th over in Georgetown, though we never told the press.
As the outgoing President, I had an open invitation to all the festivities, but that didn't mean it was a good idea to go. I didn't need to overshadow the new guy, even if he was my designated successor. Marilyn and I decided that we would go to the actual Inauguration, but afterwards, we would sneak out of town and go home to Hereford. We could claim we were coming down with a cold or something. We told John and Cindy the day before, and said good-bye to the staff before leaving.
We did host a farewell dinner the night of the 19th, relatively small, for the Bushes and McCains. President Bush was still moving around, but he was looking rather frail. We took a group photo of me, President Bush, Vice President McCain, and Vice President Elect Bush, and I commented to the others that this was a chance to get a photo of four Presidents together. The others all chuckled and smiled, but it was true. As Vice President, Jeb was assuring himself of a run at the White House himself. Whether John won or lost in 2012, Jeb would be back on his own in 2016, and probably be a leading candidate. Something to watch for in the future.
It was an enjoyable dinner. At one point I told Jeb to make sure he got his father to teach him how to salute.
"Salute? What do you mean?", he asked.
"There are a lot of times that you will be saluted by somebody, maybe one of the Marines around the White House, or when you are visiting a base somewhere, and you'll need to return the salute. Your father, John, and I already knew, since we were in the service once. Your brother, too." Both John and George nodded at that. "However, when Slick Willie took over from your dad back in '92, your father had to actually give him a lesson in saluting. At least that's what your brother told me once.
President Bush smiled and nodded. "That's true. We did it in the Oval Office right before the inauguration."
Jeb shook his head. "I'd better do that, or I'll never hear the end of it from my parents!" The rest of us laughed at that.
The weather on the 20th was cold and blustery, with a chill wind out of the northwest that cut through everything. Even though there were heaters in the stage, I was glad I had long johns on under my suit. John gave a good speech Not a great speech, but a good speech. I don't think any of us were ever going to be able to top John F. Kennedy. Afterwards, I shook John's hand and wished him and Cindy well, and we were escorted to our limo. We would be driven over to the house on 30th to pick up Stormy, and then go over to the Naval Observatory, where Marine One would fly us home. It wouldn't be Marine One for us anymore. That title is only used when the President is flying, and I didn't qualify anymore.
As we drove off, I had the driver swing by the White House one last time, and I had them stop in front of the wrought iron fence out front. I got out of the car and looked at the big white building, while the Secret Service agents scanned the curious crowd.
Marilyn got out, and asked, "What's up?"
I smiled at her. "Nothing. Just looking." She came up beside me and tucked her arm through mine. "Did I accomplish anything? Or was it all just a waste? I don't think I'll ever know."
She was silent for a second, and then answered, "It wasn't a waste, and you accomplished a lot. The ones coming after you will have big shoes to fill."
"Clown shoes.", I said with a laugh.
"No, just the shoes of a man who's like won't be seen again." She tugged my elbow. "Let's go home, Carl."
I looked down at my wife and smiled. "Yes, let's go home."