My Memory of President Ford

President Ford was the only President of the United States that I ever met personally. Well, sort of met, that is. We weren't actually introduced, at least not in the usual way.  It happened like this:

Back in the mid-1970s our youngest son Allen, who is autistic and severely retarded, was attending a public school near Columbia, Maryland. Eight years old, he was "mainstreamed" in spite of the fact that his behavior was a serious problem and, since he couldn't understand verbal communication, he was fairly disruptive in the classroom. Educators and social workers make decisions according to what should be rather than what actually is too often, but that's another issue.

School systems in the areas surrounding Washington, DC were, at that time, often invited to bring classrooms to attend various semi-social and political events held on White House grounds during Spring and Fall seasons. These are often official welcomes to heads-of-state, which was why Allen and I were waiting in the foyer of the White House that morning. Since we were not to enter the house but go directly to the South Lawn, our group was directed to wait in an entrance area on the East side.  The set up was quite different back then, with visitors welcomed much more often and freely than they have been (necessarily) since the Sept. 11 attacks on America.

Most of our group had followed a guide outside but Allen had suddenly attached himself to the legs of a chair and refused to move. I, of course, stayed behind to try to convince him that he would have much more fun out in the yard rather than studying the leg of a chair. The teachers and other adults who were with us understood the problem and decided to go on and leave me with the problem. That, after all, is why I was allowed to go along in the first place.

It seems to me that we were alone in that East corridor for quite a while, I trying to distract Allen gently enough not to precipitate a major fit and Allen carefully studying a chair leg (bamboo-style, with bumps and ridges typical of that wood), rubbing his hand up and down it rhythmically. I don't remember anyone else being with us. However, Allen suddenly leapt up and ran, into the building and down a hall. I followed in hot pursuit. In a very short time he flung himself into the arms of a man -- who was the center of a small group of men. The man, somewhat startled, lifted him into his arms and Allen, who had never run toward any person before in his life, flung his arms around the man's neck.

I knew in an instant who it was and stopped cold in my tracks, just a few feet away. President Ford hugged him, laughed and brought him to me.

I have to admit the rest is pretty foggy in my memory. I remember being overwhelmed with feelings of fear, gratitude and warmth. I also remember being escorted to join our group by the Secret Service. Since our contact was so brief, and no speech was required from Allen, I don't believe the President ever knew what a miracle it was for that little boy to run to him -- a rare step from his autistic world into the real world -- but the moment was a stunning one for me in more ways than one.