Kennedy’s caskets had also lain there for viewing.
I could feel my mind sifting through all the various presidents that day,
trying to match what I remembered from history classes with visions of the
families who’d walked these actual halls. Malia, who was about eight at the time,
seemed mostly awestruck by the size of the place, while Sasha, at five, was doing
her best not to touch the many things that weren’t supposed to be touched. She
gamely held it together as we moved from the East Room to the Green Room,
which had delicate emerald-silk walls and came with a story about James Madison
and the War of 1812, and the Blue Room, which had French furniture and came
with a story about Grover Cleveland’s wedding, but when our guide asked if
we’d now please follow him to the Red Room, Sasha looked up at me and
blurted, in the unquiet voice of an aggrieved kindergartner, “Oh nooo, not
another ROOM!” I quickly shushed her and gave her the mother-look that said,
“Do not embarrass me.”
But who, honestly, could blame her? It’s a huge place, the White House,
with 132 rooms, 35 bathrooms, and 28 fireplaces spread out over six floors, all of
it stuffed with more history than any single tour could begin to cover. It was
frankly hard to imagine real life happening there. Somewhere on the level below,
government employees flowed in and out of the building, while somewhere
above, the president and First Lady lived with their Scottish terriers in the family
residence. But we were standing then in a different area of the house, the frozen-
in-time, museum-like part of the place, where symbolism lived and mattered,
where the country’s old bones were on display.
Two years later, I was arriving all over again, this time through a different
door and with Barack. We were now going to see the place as our soon-to-be
home.
President and Mrs. Bush greeted us at the Diplomatic Reception Room, just
off the South Lawn. The First Lady clasped my hand warmly. “Please call me
Laura,” she said. Her husband was just as welcoming, possessing a magnanimous
Texas spirit that seemed to override any political hard feelings. Throughout the
campaign, Barack had criticized the president’s leadership frequently and in detail,
promising voters he would fix the many things he viewed as mistakes. Bush, as a
Republican, had naturally supported John McCain’s candidacy. But he’d also
vowed to make this the smoothest presidential transition in history, instructing
every department in the executive branch to prepare briefing binders for the
incoming administration. Even on the First Lady’s side, staffers were putting