Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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sfzh. ./^i u This Day In USC History ^y| E /1 /V| October 13, 1952 - Patterson Hall, which has 10 §-''** g 1 iff—^ I ff—" I floors, was built for more than $2.2 million. Wednesday, October 13,1999 (53lTltC0Ck Page 11 SOUL F © © D with the P p § i i d § n I by William Douglas Newsday The sizzling sound and flavorful scent of fry ing chicken wafted upstairs from the swel tering basement kitchen as I sounded the fi nal warning. “He’ll be here in 15 minutes,” I yelled. “Any one who hasn’t showered better do it now or for get about it!” Normally, I’m not so uptight when preparing to have guests over for dinner. But this night - with the food not finished and my co-hosts behind schedule in the kitchen - was about as far from normal as you can get. President Bill Clin ton was coming to dinner. At that very moment he was preparing to climb into a limo for the 5-mile, 20-minute motorcade drive from the White House to my house. For more than two hours - and two helpings - Clinton sat in my dining room that July evening and sampled a sumptuous, southern-style meal: catfish, spare ribs, chitlins, com bread, greens, black-eyed peas, yams and the skinless chicken that finished frying just as he arrived. “Soul Food Night with Mike” osting the leader of the Free World isn’t easy, ILJIa lesson that six other journalists and I learned llllas we prepared for the dinner - an event that can be traced back nearly two years, when Mike McCurry, then the president’s press secretary, accepted a dinner invite from several colleagues and me. We dubbed the event “Soul Food Night with Mike,” a potluck feast that included catered chitlins, though we were all sure McCurry would n’t touch them. But McCurry, a South Carolinian who joyful ly noshed on a fried worm during Clinton’s trip to Africa two years ago, piled a mountain of the pig intestines on his plate, splashed it with a half a bottle of hot sauce, gobbled them up and asked for more. McCurry subsequently replayed the evening for Clinton, who seemed intrigued by the idea of joining us himself. A year later, April Ryan, Sheri dan Broadcasting Network’s White House corre spondent, who helped oiganize the McCurry fete, reminded Clinton about the soul food night. The president was still interested in the east, but less so in meeting the press during the Monica Lewin sky scandal, his impeachment by the House and acquittal by the Senate, or the war in Kosovo. But finally free from all that, and with only 15 months left in office, Clinton became more re ceptive to reporters. On two overseas trips Clin ton had off-the-record dinners with small groups of reporters. As at those dinners, The White House insisted that the conversation during ours be off the record, meaning Clinton’s comments could not be published or broadcast. rlH-» n Unrvnm^ rtf rrl OOO 1UV UtUiUU V/A ^ lthough we knew Clinton was considering having dinner with us, I was, nonetheless, L ^surprised when White House officials told me right before the July 4 weekend that the pres ident wanted to drop in on July 22. The dinner itself was the simple part. Clinton, casually dressed in a yellow shirt and brown slacks, was relaxed and chatted amiably about current events, as if he were someone who just happened to stop by for a bite to eat. You almost foigot that there was a small ar mada of Secret Service agents, sharpshooters and other law enforcement officials in the basement, outside the house and scattered throughout the neighborhood. The first wave of this protective fleet, along with White House advance staff, arrived two days before the dinner to check the house out. The questions came in rapid fire from the lead Secret Service agent and a seemingly endless line of security types who walked in and out. “Do you have blueprints of the house?” “Where’s the air conditioner and what kind is it?” “How well do you know your neighbors?” Meanwhile, a woman from the White House ad vance office - a scout team that checks out every place Clinton goes - was looking at the paned-glass vestibule and front door with a mixture of appre ciation and disdain. “Oh, what a beautiful hazard,” she said. “What can we do about this?” Translation: Too much glass, too much visibility. Can’t have this. “Do you have any plants, blinds or screens you can put there?” “No,” I replied. “Wfell, we’ll work something out” Meanwhile, in the basement, agents and communications spe cialists look for a spot where they could station themselves for the dinner. A telephone company worker showed up the following day and in stalled separate, secure phone lines. “There are communications requirements that the president must be able to do his business, no matter where he is,” an advance person explained. Their work in the house done, at least temporari ly, some of the advance crew turned their atten tion to my tree-lined block and my next-door neigh bor’s house. An agent asked her if it would be all right if they went through the house with a dog trained to sniff explosives. “Well, I’m a little concerned about fleas,” she replied. After the agent assured her that the dogs were clean, she let them inspect. As for the rest of the neighborhood, the Secret Service decided to close off the block and adjoin ing alleys to traffic for a six-hour period the day of the dinner and to any cars that remained on the street, “Your neighbors are going to hate you or love you,” one agent assured me. After Washington’s metropolitan police slapped “No Parking” signs on every tree on the block, I tried to explain to some of my neighbors why they were being suddenly inconvenienced. Most took me seriously. Some gave me that smile. You know, the vacant grin when they don’t believe what you’re telling them but aren’t quite sure if you’re a fibber or a major loon. They were convinced on the night of the din ner when a police tow truck appeared, sending the nonbelievers scurrying to their suddenly illegally parked cars. “Mr. President, We Have Pizza Here” The truck and the small group of agents stand ing outside the house attracted the attention of my neighbors, one of whom put up a sign on the porch: “Mr. President — We Have PIZZA Here.” Inside my house, there were moments when we thought we might just want to take them up on the offer. Wfe had, of course, agonized over what to serve. ' My wife, Corinne, and I had tinges of anxiousness, because we had had a glimpse of ho w the Clintons entertain when we were guests at the state dinner for Japanese Prime Minister Keizo Obuchi in May. That five-course, black-tie affair featured ginger and black bean-marinated salmon, herbed rack'of lamb over new potatoes and honshimeji mushrooms, and an almond and orange -mousse cake with kiwi sauce so beautifully molded in the shape of a Japanese bonsai garden that none of the guests at my table touched theirs. The other reporters and I decided to stick to soul food. But first we checked with the White House social office about what foods Clinton avoids (dairy and chocolate) or is allergic to. And chitlins? “He loves them!” one of the advance women said. Alcohol posed another question. Clinton does not drink, but the advance woman insisted that should n’t stop us from serving wine. With time lirnited, we abandoned our plans to do most of the cooking and decided to cook a hand ful of dishes and hire a caterer - one of the re porters’ Aunt Pearl from Baltimore - to do the chitlins and the rest. My wife, who returned to Washington from a business trip in Venezuela the night before the din ner, made oven-fried catfish and her special fresh squeezed lemonade with a hint of vanilla, but she scuttled plans to make her specialty: a barbecued spare-rib dish that takes more than three hours on luarm crrill -g Still wanting ribs on the menu, we had some cooked... in Philadelphia. We ordered two slabs from The Rib Crib, a takeout place where my par ents picked up dinner for me almost every week end when I was a kid, and asked the owner to wrap them up tightly in a cooler.Getting the ribs was easy. Getting them to Washington was not. That problem was solved by my best friend from high school, Flip, who happened to be driving his fam ily down to Virginia that day and agreed to drop off the ribs on his way.The ribs arrived two hours be fore dinnertime amid the frenzy of cooking and fi nal security preparations. The reporters and Aunt Pearl and her assistants were trying to finish up the fried chicken when the agents asked everybody to leave while they conducted a thorough last sweep of the house. Once back inside, a White House advance per son put us through the final paces of what we were to do when Clinton arrived. My wife and I were to greet him at the door with our 14-month-old twin daughters, Helene and Nora, held by their babysitters, standing behind us. My colleagues, who were sitting in the living room, would then walk into the hallway to greet and shake hands with the nrpcidpnt And don’t forget, the advance woman said, Clinton prefers not to sit at the head of the dining table. “He’s president, he’s not king,” she said. While we were getting last instructions up stairs, Aunt Pearl was frying away downstairs in a hot basement that was quickly getting thick with agents and law enforcement officers. The agents tended to their business while Aunt Pearl and her assistants tended to the cooking. The lead agent on ly once looked over Pearl’s shoulder and asked about the food. i i “Skinless fried chicken?” he said. “What’s up with that? That’s like a date without a kiss.” Less fat, she replied. You’ve taken a year off my life The presidential motorcade pulled up to the house 20 minutes late — which bought us enough time to complete the cooking, set the table, shower and dress. The house was clean. The food was done. And Clinton made it-through the door that had so worried some of the advance team. Ironically all the nervousness, all the panic, all the fears faded away when Clinton walked in the door. In short, he made everyone feel at ease. He came into the house shaking hands and kiss ing babies - my twins. The White House advance team had mapped out Clinton’s steps. He was to enter the house and veer from the hallway and go directly into the dining room. But Clinton deviated from the game plan and made a beeline for the CD player in the living room “Who’s that playing?” he asked, nodding ap provingly when told that it was jazz singer Vanes sa Rubin. ur..L : • .t-_ i i .j ._n i TVIUI U1V/ JMLU-. U1 UIV/ V/Ui 1U, \~UlltUU WlUIVVAJ about the living room, stopping to ask my wife questions about the eclectic collection of African American artwork in the room, particularly two paintings by Brooklyn-based artist Lamerol Gatewood and a print by Leroy Campbell of a man gently kissing a woman on the nape of her long neck, called “The Right Spot.” Once at the din ner table, Clinton munched liberally and spoke freely on topics ranging from the death of John F. Kennedy Jr. (he was to attend Kennedy’s memo rial service in New York the next day) to the state of race'relations in America, to Northern Ire land. The White House had blocked 1 1/2 hours for Clinton to be at the house. But after two hours, he was still going strong, chatting amiably and eat ing heartily. As Clinton neared his third hour in the house, Joe Lockhart, his press secretary, who sat quietly through most of the meal along with Bev erly Barnes, deputy assistant to the president, tried to usher him to the door. Finally, Clinton moved from the dinner table, took one last look at the buffet table and its high-cholesterol, high-calorie contents, and smiled. “I think you’ve taken a year off my life,” Clin ton said, clutching his heart.“I’ve really enjoyed this.” ‘ Editor’s Note: Bill Douglas is a USC alumnus. He works as a reporter for Newsday. Photo Courtesy of The White House Bill Douglas, second from left, his wife, Corinne, and their 14-month-old twins welcome President Bill Clinton to their home in Washington, D.C. Campus Notes Lecturer to speak for Hispanic History Month Sandra Guzman, an Emmy Award-win ning journalist, will speak at 7 p.m. to day in Gambrell auditorium. Guzman will lecture as part of Hispanic History Month on Latino(a) Leadership in the New Millennium. NAACP meeting to be held The USC chapter of the NAACP will hold a general body meeting Tlirusday in • the RH 205. The NAACP meets the sec ond and fourth Thursday of each month. * Carolina Campus Cleanup to meet Carolina Campus Cleanup, a campuswide cleaning event for faculty, staff and stu dents, will take place Friday. Sign up for the event will be in front of the RH. Dissertation writing workshop to be held The College of Science and Math and the graduate school will sponsor work shops offering Practical Strategies for Writing a Dissertation. The training will be conducted by Dorothy Brown of Jaynes Street Associates. The workshop will be held from 10 am. to 3 p.m. Thrus day and Friday. Thursday will focus pri marily on the liberal arts, and Friday will concentrate on areas in science and math. Students in any major may attend either day, but each program can accommodate only 70 students. Those interested in the training should call 777-1553. Rape Crisis Network looking for volunteers The Rape Crisis Network is searching for responsible, caring people to respond to survivors in local hospital emergency rooms and on the 24-hour crisis line. Con cerned people over 18 with access to transportation are encouraged to apply. For more information or to interview, call Cecily Watkins at 252-8393. LRADAC needs volunteers The Lexington/Richland Alcohol and Drug Abuse Council needs volunteer col lege students to share experiences with high school students to help them pre pare for life after high school. For more information, call 733-1390. City Year announces an nual Serve-A-Thon City-Year will be hosting its annual fund raiser Serve-A-Thon on Oct. 16. Par ticipants will renovate buildings, build playgrounds, clear vacant lots, plant ur ban gardens, run children's carnivals, and change the face of Greater Columbia. For more information, call City Year at 254-3349. Submit Briefs for Campus Notes to RH 333. Please include a contact name and phone number. We can't promise to print everything but we can promise to try. i The Russell House Bookstore & Balfour Announce DECEMBER GRADUATES Undergraduate Special - $72.25 - Save $5 Includes 25 announcements, 25 thank you notes, 25 envelope seals, 50 return address labels, cap, gown, and tassel. (No packaging and handling charges will be added!) * Graduate student specials as well! ORDER NOW AT THE RUSSELL HOUSE BOOKSTORE would like to Congratulate . . Shanna Amerson Meghan Barfield Julia Cook Kristen Cook Leigh Anne Cubbage April Dendy Courtney Edwards Alyssa Elkins Meghan Frasier Shelby Gregory Jessica Germony Lindsey Hanna Ashley Hendrix Jessica Hughes Laura Killian Katherine Leventis Lauren Little Lindsay Mauldin Jessica Mueller Meghan O’Malley Andrea Parrot Lauren Peek Christy Peeler Mary Ann Randall Abbi Rich Stephanie SchoUer Jeni Smith Anna Sorenson Lauren Taylor Tanya Tocharoen Tara Troisi Sarah Wacker Kristi Wannamaker Amy Ward Jessica Westmoreland Callie White Claire Woodward ... the 1999 new member class for being initiated!