Close-up

"Can I see your pass?" the Secret Service guy asked me. I reached into my pocket and my fingers did a little searching. Nope. That's a receipt. Nope. That's a dollar. Ah, the pass!

I pulled it out and showed it to him. It said I was an honest-to-goodness member of the press.

I smiled. He frowned.

"I'm sorry, you can't be in here," he said. "You have to be escorted in here by Christine."

I was trying to get into this little press box not too far from the stage. You see, President George Bush was going to come out from behind that little curtain in the corner in about 20 minutes.

I was here to take his picture. I took the day off to get his picture. I drove 3 1/2 hours to get his picture. My fan belt broke on the way and my power steering went out. I got lost. I got harassed by cops.

I got harassed by Army soldiers when I parked my truck near the street. (You can't park your rig near the street if the President is going to drive by. Keep that in mind.)

So I did what I do best. I smiled.

Christine, huh? I'll find her. You watch. The Secret Service guy gave me one of those Secret Service guy looks. The look that says if you don't get the hell out of here, I'm going to squash you and put those nasty little plastic things around your wrists that they use instead of handcuffs.

I went to look for Christine. Well, sort of. What I really did was just start wandering around. I must admit, I made a calculated risk when I left the truck. I had brought the Nikon and the 400 mm lens with me just in case they stuck the media in the back. But when it came time to actually go to the arena to see GW, I left it in the truck and just took the Leica. That 400 mm lens, with the camera attached, is a pain to carry around.

The Leica fits in a bag the size of a small purse. It's a great camera. A wonderful machine. But there was no way I was going to get any good pictures of GW back in what they called the "media pool."

The media pool looked like a little jail in the back of the arena. Everyone, except for the Great Falls Tribune photographer and the White House pool photographers, were in that cage. The Great Falls guys went through some more thorough background checks to get in, I later learned.

But there was no way I could stay in that cage. My lenses were way too short. The President would look like a peanut if I stayed back there.

So I got resourceful. I worked my way up to the front, shooting the breeze with people along the way. The President wasn't coming out for a good 20 minutes, and everyone was relaxed, happy.

Welcome to Great Falls, Montana. Happy to be here. You're from where? You don't say. I'm from … and so on.

Next thing I know, I'm standing in front of the stage and I see this young boy on a man's lap with a coloring book. In the second row. The President was going to pop out right in front of him. What is a three-year-old doing drawing in a coloring book in the second row at a Presidential event?

Turns out his mom and Dad are going to be on the stage-Amy and Mike Borger, of Great Falls. I take the young man's picture. Get to chatting with the rest of the family.

The Leica is helping me now, because the people like the fact that I'm taking this young man's picture for the newspaper. But no one else suspects I'm anything other than a guy with a little black camera.

I schmooze a little, and the Borgers graciously offer to let me sit in one of their extra seats. Aides to United States Senators are sitting on the floor, and here I am in the front row. I wink at one and he gives me an ugly look. Oh, how it pays to be nice.

The President, right on cue at 3:55 p.m., pops out right in front, and I shoot four rolls of film. When the event is almost over, a White House aide comes over and invites the rest of the Borger family back to meet GW. I think about going back with them, but then think not.

GW is coming around to shake folks' hands and I want a picture of that, too. The crowd pushed on the barricade as the President comes toward me, shaking hands.

I snap a few pictures. A guy hugs the Pres whether the Pres wants a hug or not. Then the President is in front of me, and two Boy Scouts are off to my right. I move out of the way so they can shake the President's hand.

Go get him. Go on. I give them a little push on the back, helping along a memory that will last a lifetime.

Chris Peterson is the editor of the Hungry Horse News.