Who I Saw in Fairfax, VA, December 5, 2009
(Reuters)
The morning in the Shenandoah Valley dawns with a full-blown snow storm. After checking the NOAA weather site several times I decide I must do it, I absolutely must go out in this storm to attend Sarah Palin’s book signing in northern Virginia, at a BJ’s in Fairfax.
I am able to slide down the driveway but the climb up the little hill is more difficult. Uh-oh, I think. Uh-oh is right. The rest of the way to the highway is no better. Gingerly I head up the eastbound ramp onto Route 66, my heart in my throat, as I push the old road horse onto the wet, slippery pavement. Ahead there are snowplows, which wash waves of ice, slush and snow over my windshield, the wipers working madly to clear it. I soldier on.
I pass the inevitable slow pokes but I also pass several spins outs and, just over the line in Fauquier County, an overturned vehicle. As I drive past the Manassas exits in Prince William County I think, Might have she cancelled? A moment later, I think, Nah, not Sarah, this storm’s nothing compared to the Alaska! No, I decide I am not worried about the Governor reaching Fairfax but that I am a bit concerned with this ordinary citizen slipping and sliding all over Route 66.
Entering Fairfax County I re-grip the wheel tightly as traffic suddenly appears, cars accelerating and swerving in the nor-easter like over-caffeineted chariot racers. I finally make landfall at the entrance to the Fair Lakes Mall and enter the obstacle course, which is the parking lot, where brakes are useless on the ice and cars galore are ready to be hit. I slip into a parking space (the operative word being slip) and step out of the car where the nor-easter is blasting.
In this mess of a storm the line waiting for Sarah Palin is unbelievable, hundreds—no, maybe even thousands—of people standing in mazes of railings. Everyone is freezing under umbrellas, many people clutching copies of GOING ROGUE in plastic bags, but everyone is smiling, excited, waiting for a chance to meet the Governor. We chat back and forth in the blinding snowstorm and children try to keep warm by singing Christmas carols. The line is advancing very well, not by ones and twos but tens and twenties, which is a good thing, I noticed, since the crowd behind us was swelling dramatically.
Suddenly, I’m in BJ’s! The crowd peppers the security detail with questions but the members of the squad are exhausted and barely respond. They do, however, muster up enough energy to tell us that if we want to buy a book then we have to buy memberships to BJ’s. I had wondered about that earlier, if they dared, and the answer was yes. I live in rural Virginia and have little use for BJ’s and politely declined joining. I did, however, wrangle a few more moments in the warmth and angled down the aisle far enough to see that the governor was impossibly far away to glimpse, and then the security folks ushered me out.
I quickly locate a young man outside who DOES belong to BJ’s, who will buy me a book, then a security guy appears and announces it is after two o’clock, no more signing. Dejected, the nice young man returns my twenty. Deeply saddened now, I start to leave but suddenly regain my senses! Sarah’s exit!
I dash around the building and position myself near the fire-exit door. No way I’m leaving without at least a glimpse of the leader I believe will restore our country to full strength and Constitutional principles! A crowd starts amassing around me, eyes on the red fire-exit doors, cell phones poised to snap pictures and video cameras focussed. A local TV reporter and his cameraman finish interviewing a lady with a tiger colored umbrella and move closer to the doors.
I am looking around and suddenly recognize a man and woman crossing the sidewalk a few feet in front of me, heading for an SUV. “Mrs. Heath, Mrs. Heath!” I shout, since she is closest to me. I step forward to extend my hand to Sarah Palin’s mother. “God bless you!” I tell her. Sally Heath grasps my hand warmly and busses me on the cheek. I stand there a moment, speechless, as Mrs. Heath continues on her way, but have the presence of mind to return my attention to the doors.
Suddenly there was Todd, cradling Trig in a blanket against the snow and freezing air, taking care not to slip. OMG, I think, he is every bit as handsome from even the back as the front! And then, a few moments later, there is Sarah, a group of security guards around her, moving her along. She is every bit as radiant and beautiful as people have said.
I have never seen a picture of Sarah Palin wearing a hat—hoods yes, hats never—but there on her head is a green hat. Perhaps this is a good omen of some kind for America’s future? ”God bless you, Sarah!” I call. She smiles at all of us in the crowd but security hustles her to the SUV where her husband and son are waiting. She climbs in, the door closes, and in a few moments the SUV drives off. I stand there a moment, thinking how well worth it my trip has been.
For I have just seen the 45th President of the United States, and her name is Sarah.
[Editors of SwS offer these video clips so you may see some thing's Granola Conservative couldn't!]
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