After filling out pages and pages of background checks for the secret service I was cleared to start. I had no idea what department I would report to, but I hoped it would be something like the Department of the Interior, or Department of Women’s Issues (if one existed). I was there to make a change even if it was just answering phones. Ironically, I was assigned to the place I felt least qualified for – The Social Office. The office was headed by the Social Secretary and reported to Hillary Clinton. They planned events ranging from the President’s birthday to state dinners for 500 guests and everything in between.
Although the job sounded “fun,” I didn’t come to Washington for fun. I wanted to understand more about public policy and see change happen
before my eyes. I really didn’t see how party planning would further my political education. However, there was one huge advantage to this post – the offices were located in the east wing of the actual White House. So while most of my fellow interns were ushered to their offices in the Old Executive Office Building where the majority of business is conducted, I was given what they called a hard pass and granted access to the White House. Of course I couldn’t waltz into the Oval Office, but I could walk many of the same halls where the cabinet officials walked. We were, however, instructed to be very careful of what we discussed outside of the office. Anything we saw or heard was 100% off limits and grounds for immediate termination. They told us there were eyes and ears all over Washington and there was zero tolerance for any talking out of school.
Even on that first day when I walked up to my quarter cubicle I shared with other Brooks Brother wearing overachievers, I could literally feel the power pulsating. Regardless of one’s politics, it was truly fascinating and I knew I had to take advantage of every moment.
Like I assumed, much of my job consisted of answering the non-stop ringing phones, responding to requests for relatives of Senators for private tours, or taking RSVPs to the ladies congressional breakfasts. Then there were the many people constantly angling for invites to the various dinners or the big Easter Egg Roll that was coming in Spring. I later worked as a call screener in talk radio, but I think doing shifts on the White House phones prepared me for anything.
I learned early that just showing up and not being annoying gets you so far in this world. Once I figured out the phone routine, I had to be able to offer something bigger and better. As soon I learned the layout of the residence, I started volunteering to run errands. As long as I had that manila envelope that could be carrying military secrets but was most likely the salmon recipe that was to be served for Hillary’s brunch, I could explore. I took the long way to the West Wing checking out the map room where Franklin D. Roosevelt used as the situation room to follow the course of World War II. The china room was another fascinating detour where past presidents displayed their growing collection of White House china. Most of the time I would be scurrying through the downstairs corridor, and I would just stop dead in my tracks to look at all the portraits of the First Ladies. Literally everywhere you looked you could feel the history.
Even on that first day when I walked up to my quarter cubicle I shared with other Brooks Brother wearing overachievers, I could literally feel the power pulsating. Regardless of one’s politics, it was truly fascinating and I knew I had to take advantage of every moment.
Like I assumed, much of my job consisted of answering the non-stop ringing phones, responding to requests for relatives of Senators for private tours, or taking RSVPs to the ladies congressional breakfasts. Then there were the many people constantly angling for invites to the various dinners or the big Easter Egg Roll that was coming in Spring. I later worked as a call screener in talk radio, but I think doing shifts on the White House phones prepared me for anything.
I learned early that just showing up and not being annoying gets you so far in this world. Once I figured out the phone routine, I had to be able to offer something bigger and better. As soon I learned the layout of the residence, I started volunteering to run errands. As long as I had that manila envelope that could be carrying military secrets but was most likely the salmon recipe that was to be served for Hillary’s brunch, I could explore. I took the long way to the West Wing checking out the map room where Franklin D. Roosevelt used as the situation room to follow the course of World War II. The china room was another fascinating detour where past presidents displayed their growing collection of White House china. Most of the time I would be scurrying through the downstairs corridor, and I would just stop dead in my tracks to look at all the portraits of the First Ladies. Literally everywhere you looked you could feel the history.
On one occasion I was walking those halls and the President was coming towards me in the other direction. I was immediately stopped by the Secret Service and told very sternly to wait. I could hear the President talking to one of his advisors. The tone was one of urgency so I stared down at the carpet and didn’t move a muscle until I was given the okay to continue. You don’t mess with that Secret Service.
The time of my internship came at a precipitous point for the Clintons. This was soon after control of both the House and Senate were taken over by the Republicans, dubbed by many as the Republican Revolution. That January when Congress reconvened, Newt Gingrich, who was credited with the takeover, was elected Speaker of the House. The mood was tense. First Lady Hillary Clinton was also still trying to find her way. Although her health care initiative was shot down, she was certainly not out. There was a deep respect for her amongst her staff and everyone knew of her great potential separate from her husband.
Another incident that added to the uncertainty happened just a few weeks before I arrived. there were four shots fired at the residence. Although no was hurt, they never caught the shooter and everyone seemed to be on high alert - so much so that you knew you were being watched at all times. I remember going down to get some lunch when the swat teams would be changing shifts. Again, I just stood motionless as men in total combat attire raced through the hallways to their posts. Just in case you forgot where you were, that was certainly a reminder.
Once my supervisors deemed me proficient enough to handle the phones and run errands, and agreed I wasn’t going to do something totally inappropriate, I was invited to attend some of the events. While I would hardly call myself a social butterfly, this was incredibly exciting! Mostly I was to stay out of the way, assist guests when they arrived and walk around the quarters to make sure everything was going smoothly.
At one of the events while members of Congress and other VIPs walked around grazing on appetizers and cocktails, I noticed a lanky teenager dressed in sneakers waiting for her mom to finish up. It was Chelsea. My heart really went out to her and the amount of pressure she must have felt. It sucks being a teenager and I can only imagine coming of age in the White House.
Over the next five weeks, there was a State Dinner, Hillary Clinton’s 25th college reunion from Wellesley, donor breakfasts and cocktail parties. People called everyday for Easter Egg Roll tickets and I met both the President and the First Lady.
On my last day, my supervisors took me to lunch in the White House Staff Mess which I guess can be described as the presidential restaurant and catering service. As interns we weren’t allowed to eat there except when invited by higher-level personnel. I know it’s a cliché, but it was incredibly surreal. After lunch, the Social Secretary invited me to her office. She thanked me for my service and said the President was always looking for people to join his campaign and asked me to submit my resume. I was completed floored and put together my first official resume. I left Washington the next day to head back to Bucknell University to finish my senior year. The campaign never called, but there were other experiences in store for me in California. Another intern named Monica Lewinsky started her internship three months after I finished my term. Funny how life happens.
