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The Secret Service

03.13.2011 by bloggard // Leave a Comment

Geary Boulevard, San Francisco, 1984. It was a big deal. Queen Elizabeth was coming to San Francisco to visit with President Reagan. Some days before the event, Secret Service men came to visit us.

They were examining every building along Geary Boulevard, inside and out. The reason being that, after attending a function downdown, Prez and Queen would motorcade along Geary Boulevard to a fancy do at the Palace of the Legion of Honor, out by the ocean.

As a perfect sniper site, they examined our office, even climbing to the roof. Network OPs (operators) were interviewed. They were looking for suspicious characters. I guess they found none, for they moved on.

During this time I was developing the Line Seizer, an electronic device, and so I was wearing overalls that night, because I was a computer guy. We had advance warning because Pauly O’Brien, our client who lived in a cheap hotel downtown, called us when the Queen’s limo passed his window.

In our second story office, we crowded to the windows. First came a battalion of motorcycle cops, stopping side-street traffic as far as the eye could see. Into this quiet and empty lane cruised a long black limosine.

The Queen wore a charming gown, somewhat formal, in a robins-egg blue, and a small hat with half-veil. Sitting inside with the light turned on, so that we could see her waving to all of us. Very considerate. She was using the official Queeny-wave, where the hand, held upright, rotates from side to side at the wrist. All lined up, we waved back the same way.

Oh, us Network OPs had a fine view! Then she was gone.

According to our advanced scout, the President was cruising about five minutes behind. But phones got very busy just then, and several OPs had to go take calls. In fact, I was the only one at the window when the President’s Limo came gliding down the road, with six Secret Servicemen somehow standing on the outside of the car.

I threw the narrow window open, grabbed the sill, and leaned far out into the evening, to shoot the bird at the President. Four of the Secret Servicemen jumped, and grabbed for their guns.

However, they did not shoot me, and in a moment the President was out of bird range. I didn’t feel nearly as elated as I thought I would; Instead, I felt like a stupid smartass.

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