Chapter 10 #2
We all felt the gravity of the office, and no one took it for granted.
Working at the White House is all-consuming.
We knew one another’s families and the daily stresses caused by the complexity of the job, definitely not a nine-to-five.
Often, someone would call me at six in the morning or ten at night.
We had lots of early-morning flights and late-evening events.
But we all felt a sense of purpose in the work we were doing, whether it was providing jobs for military spouses, lifting up teachers, offering patient navigators to cancer patients and their families, or promoting research for women’s health.
If a colleague had to call me late in the day because they were finishing up work after putting their children to bed, I understood.
I was a working mom for many years. You have to know how and when you can write that memo or shoot off a response.
You’ve got to grab those moments. We formed a family.
I respected them all for the breadth of their knowledge, their savvy.
Everyone brought something different to the table.
No one complained. We were ordinary people living extraordinary lives, and that honor was not lost on us.
The White House staff made it their business to know what you liked.
After an event, I would usually come upstairs and have a glass of cabernet, so there would always be one waiting for me.
When our family would come for a visit, I made sure that everybody had cookies.
They loved the White House cookies—chocolate chip or glazed white to look like the White House or in colors to imitate fall leaves.
One of my sisters likes cream in her coffee rather than milk, so without even being asked, they’d have half-and-half in the refrigerator when she visited.
Whatever you wanted, the kitchen would make for you.
If you called down at eleven o’clock at night and you wanted a cheeseburger, you could get it.
The staff would create the ambiance that you wanted.
So if you enjoyed jazz and a martini, that’s what you’d arrive home to.
Joe was always within arm’s reach of a Coke Zero or an ice cream bar.
His closet was like an Excel spreadsheet—perfectly straight lines of white shirts, blue shirts. Shoes shined every day.
To perform at the People’s House is a distinct honor, and we tried to give that opportunity to as many different groups and individuals as possible.
Finnegan suggested we bring the Philadelphia Eagles singing trio, the Philly Specials, to the White House, which was great.
I am a die-hard Eagles fan. Fly, Eagles, fly!
Elton John also came to give a concert. The day before, his band had a practice session with a soundalike (was that possible?) singer.
I was upstairs in the residence when I heard that familiar banging on the piano…
you know those chords that begin “Bennie and the Jets”?
I raced downstairs. It all felt so exciting.
They were doing the soundcheck and rehearsing.
There we were—the staff running to sit in the seats and watch.
The concert itself was magnificent, with a gorgeous glass canopy above our heads. That night, Joe gave Elton an arts and humanities award. He has done so much to promote AIDS awareness. He’s truly one of a kind—a special human being.
I loved when the Kennedy Center honorees came to the White House.
The 2021 group included Dick Van Dyke, Garth Brooks, Debbie Allen, and Joan Baez.
After pictures were taken, Joan Baez spontaneously broke into the civil rights anthem “Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me ’Round,” changing some of the words to be about Joe saving the country and giving people hope.
Debbie harmonized while Garth and his wife, country singer Trisha Yearwood, hummed along.
U2’s Bono, my longtime crush, habitually breaks into poetry as part of conversation.
Joe’s favorite poet is Seamus Heaney, so when we’ve spent time with Bono, he’s peppered conversation with lines like “All year the flax-dam festered in the heart…” If you think a rock star spouting poetry from memory would not make an English teacher swoon, you would be wrong.
One year, for my birthday, friends took me to the Sphere to see U2.
You can’t really describe the Sphere to someone.
You have to experience it—full immersion: seeing, feeling, hearing.
The best part of the night was when Bono dedicated “All I Want Is You” to “all the great women in our lives” and name-checked me—or was the best part getting to join the prayer circle backstage with the band and their families?
It was certainly a birthday I’ll never forget.
Opening the White House wider and wider to more people mattered to me. Sometimes events would also yield remarkable friendships.
“You remind me of my wife, Ricky,” Ralph Lauren said one day. She and I gravitated toward each other at a White House event and formed an instant connection.
As a rule, I preferred less buzz around me rather than more.
I was successful in my bid to do away with the tradition of having an usher ride in the elevator with me to push the button, for example.
Each day before I went to work, I’d head to the kitchen to make my own coffee—it’s best for everyone if I’m alone before I’ve had caffeine.
I bought a purple lunch bag, and one of the treats of the White House was having salads packed for my school lunches.
Those little rituals simulated normalcy—even though nothing about living in the White House is normal.