In honor of the Democratic National Convention, I thought it might be enjoyable to look back on the 2004 election.
Jesse Jackson: A La Carte Daily Texan - October 31, 2004 An Editorial by me!
Imagine, you are in the Cleveland airport, the Sunday prior to the Vice-Presidential Debates. You have your two children, ages three and 18 months, two separate strollers, a back-pack for each child, an oversized purse, an overnight bag, (should you be stranded), a video camera, a snack bag for the kids and your husband has to get the rental car back. This was me earlier this month.
It was the return of our trip to Ohio to see my grandmother. A wonderful visit and beautiful scenery with changing leaves and crisp fall days. So we started our Sunday morning at church with Grandma and our relatives, followed by lunch and we set off for the hour drive to the airport.
Due to time constraints, my husband dropped me off at the terminal so he could get the rental car returned. "Are you sure you can do this with the kids, and all the stuff? Maybe you should wait here, rather than trying to get to the gate by yourself," he said.
Chivalry is not at all dead in our family. However, the independent mom, who can multi-task, set in and I replied, "We will be fine, just meet us at the gate. I’ll get one of the motorized carts to take us and the stuff there."
I entered the harried scene of a bustling airport on a Sunday afternoon. The debates were to take place on Monday evening, significantly increasing the foot traffic in the airport. People looked at me as if I was crazy. I had one child in each stroller, pushing them, or rather trying to push them through the crowds. The back of the stroller handles were swaying with the six plus bulging carry-on bags. I did have a few offers to help, I thanked the strangers and explained that I was on my way to get a cart to take us to our gate. I also had the few comments, "You’re not by yourself are you?" I may be crazy at times, but I’m not that crazy!
After making it through security, where I’m sure the screeners were pleased to find the mundane contents of my bags -- Children’s Tylenol & Motrin (just in case), a My Pretty Pony, Happy Meal toys in the form of Elmo, two notebooks, a baggie of crayons the color of the rainbow for the three year old, a baggie of big fat crayons for the one year old with only three colors, the ones he can say -boo, geen and ong, Kleenex, fruit snacks, gum and chewy candies should their ears hurt on the plane, diapers, wipes and the like. You get the picture, we are hardly the criminal kind.
We finally make it through security; a small fact that I had overlooked when I had given my husband a big happy wave as he returned the rental car. After being scowled at and repeatedly told to please move out of the area, we were finally on our way to find a cart.
This in itself was a little frustrating as it took three airport personnel to locate a cart. They seemed not at all concerned by the frantic super-mom scenario with two kids in tow, but seemed much more annoyed that they had to answer a question and do something about it.
Finally, we make it to gate C4, there sits an empty six seater cart. I would soon learn, only a mirage to my grateful eyes.
We approached the cart driver. Political correctness gone too far with his job title emblazoned with the words, MOBILITY ACCESS across the back of his bright yellow jacket. Maybe a knight in a shiny yellow coat to rescue my burden of luggage so I can tend to my youngsters. No chance.
I asked if he could take us a short ride to gate C24. He said, "Yeah, I can do that, I’m waiting for two people, load up." I hoisted the kids on the back seat of the cart. In a flash, I began loading and collapsing strollers as to not delay the other patrons who would soon be joining us on a stretch golf cart through the busy airport.
Typically these, "mobility access" personnel provide transportation for the elderly, those in wheel chairs, and the overwhelmed - that would be me, or I decided someone with a leg injury.
I soon learned that "mobility access" also pertains to pseudo celebrities.
As I was loading the last of my bags on the cart, I looked up and standing across from me was – Jesse Jackson and his one-man entourage. I politely smiled and said, "Hi, how are you?". No response. Well actually, no verbal response, there was plenty of non-verbal going on, this was his cart and he did not at all appreciate the fact that we were on his cart. His look was quite insolent and down right arrogant.
I turned around to get the last stroller. My mind was racing. First I would introduce myself and proudly produce my Daily Texan business card and ask his opinion on the upcoming debate, if he didn’t mind an impromptu interview.
Alas, I never had the chance....
As the last item was loaded, Jackson and company had yet to step foot onto the cart. Perhaps they were afraid of getting their three piece suits smudged with little sticky, candy fingers or their ears not accustomed to the shrills of joy from two toddlers riding through the airport.
My right foot on the cart, my hand in my wallet to get out my business card and the Mobility Access Guy says, "I’m sorry you have to get off and take another cart."
So there stands Jesse Jackson, and he appears to be quite put out that he would have to ride a cart with the mother of two from Texas. In my utter surprise of being booted off the cart, I retrieved my children and Mr. Mobility Access proved he could move at a lightening pace. He began tossing our stuff off the cart in a rapid manner.
Finally, when there was nothing of ours left on the cart, Jackson and his sidekick stepped onto the cart with their one attache case per piece, leaving us in the middle of the Cleveland airport – in the dust.
I furiously snatched up my camera and winced as the battery was drained. I so wanted a photo of the back of Jesse as he sped away on the cart. There we were: mom, two kids, six bags, two strollers and a camera with no batteries.
Luckily, Mr. Mobility Access called reinforcements, at the thought of abandoning a mother with two children for the sake of - what exactly is Jesse Jackson again? He is not a politician. Otherwise, he would have been much better about shaking my hand and kissing my babies. Well, I know he is a Reverend, and he is the founder of several organizations including: PUSH, (People United to Serve Humanity).
I have to admit that I was so shocked. I think most people would have acted honorably, either waiting for another cart or being able-bodied persons, actually walking to get to their next destination.
So I have this to say Jesse Jackson - we both should never judge a book by the cover.
I prejudged you to be a nice person, a gentleman and perhaps polite. I’m not asking for special treatment, it would have been nice for a mere head nod, an acknowledgment, a form of communication from your assistant, "I’m sorry, we need to get somewhere, do you mind taking the next cart?"
Thus, is the downfall of being in the public eye. Perhaps I expected too much.
And you prejudged me as a harried mom of two that could easily be put off.
Nice to not meet you, Jesse, I’m actually a card-carrying member of the press.
