As America nears its July 4th 250th birthday, my memories of 50 years ago during the Bicentennial begin with a crazy question: Can a president of the United States get lost in public? You think not?
Here’s the answer. It’s July 4th, 1976. On the Navy ship USS Nashville. Hudson River, New York Harbor, and I’m advancing the visit of President Gerald Ford.
For 2 years I served the White House staff as an assistant and advance representative to President Ford. Whenever a president attends an away event, an advance team makes arrangements. Then the lead advance representative – in this case myself - guides him through. Huge responsibilities and pressures.
In New York the president would visit the Nashville to review the Operation Sail Tall Ships and the International Naval Review of warships. They sailed to the George Washington Bridge near us, then retraced courses.
President Ford began the day in Washington at St. John’s Church -- then flew to Valley Forge, Pennsylvania -- then rode the Marine One helicopter to the carrier USS Forrestal off Staten Island – then over to the Nashville.
Accompanying him were daughter Susan Ford; the Secretary of the Navy; and the Bicentennial chairman.
The president reviewed the Nashville crew on the flight deck and mingled with international sailors, cutting the 200th birthday cake.
Rain had started. Persistent, annoying rain. My multi-tasking duties meant holding an umbrella over him as he mingled. Checking my notes to keep him on schedule.....anticipating the next move.....hold every item he was handed..... answering his questions.....and getting soaked. God blessed me with 4 extra hands but no raincoat. All in a day’s work.
Then a distraction and he disappeared -- leaving his body man, Secret Service agent, and myself stunned. O.M.G - what happened? Where is he?
Who is with him? Our team radios hummed. Where’s Passkey? – his code name. I’m scrambling, heart beating in overdrive, embarrassed. Holy cow! - he can’t go far! My career was toast. I had lost the president.
An eternity later our communications guy found him inside the ship with the captain. Thank God. Get back on track. So, out on deck he came. Still raining. I rushed over with the umbrella.
“Mr. President, where have you been?” I asked with controlled frantic. “We were worried about you. You all right?” He answered: “We were having coffee in the captain’s cabin out of the rain. Are YOU okay? Wilbur, you’re doing a good job.” With that, lifeblood and composure rushed back into a weary, soaked body.
I flew in the Marine Two helo to Newark and boarded Air Force One for Washington. My wife Carroll and 3 children met me at the White House with dry clothes for the staff picnic on the South Lawn and the Mall fireworks. So ended the most memorable day of my life. The day I lost the president, the title of my memoir.
But wait! My boss told me to leave tomorrow to lead another advance. The return state dinner hosted by Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip for the president on the Royal Yacht Britannia in Newport, Rhode Island. Now go work with the British. Exhausted and having caught a cold, I headed home to pack.
About Wilbur:
Retired Navy Captain Wilbur Jones is an author and military historian who grew up in Wilmington during World War II. He was heavily involved in Wilmington earning designation as America's first WWII Heritage City.
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