The other day, at about 4:00 in the afternoon, I was biking home from lunch with two Cate classmates of mine. I was headed north along the western edge of Central Park and was in a bit of a hurry because I had to get home, collect my tutoring stuff, then head down to the lower East Side by 5:30. Cars were bumper to bumper, and one guy had actually gotten out of his cab to peer ahead, apparently in hopes of determining how backed up traffic was. "Suckers," I thought, as I whizzed by them.
Hubris, I discovered, is a bitch. Two blocks later, I came upon a roadblock for pedestrians, and, yes, cyclists. There was metal fencing up, blocking both the road and the sidewalk, and an ever-growing crowd of people was clustered there, flashing lights from about ten emergency vehicles crazily illuminating their faces. A very surly cop monitored pedestrian activity from the center of the street, and every time someone set a toe into the gutter, he bellowed at them to stay on the sidewalk.
After I'd satisfied myself that there was no way around this, I inquired of a baby-faced gay man next to me what the deal was. "We think it's the president," he said. Obama was apparently in the city somewhere, and the huge lengths that had been taken to block off the street seemed to have no other explanation. A helicopter flying overhead, cinched it: this had to be in anticipation of Obama's passing through.
It was hot, and the sidewalk was crowded. I had worked up a sheen of sweat from riding, and was thirsty. I was also aware that every second I wasn't moving forward increased the odds that I'd be late for my appointment. But I figured that being held up by the presidential motorcade was a good excuse. Plus, I was excited. I hoped I'd be able to glimpse even just his profile as he rode by.
Silly me. I don't know much about the security measures involved when the president moves from Point A to Point B. When, after 15 minutes, the motorcade finally appeared, it was led by something like 10 cops on motorcycles. Then a stream of police cars, ambulances, a tow truck (?), sleek black SUVs with tinted windows, and sleek black sedans with tinted windows went by at about 35 MPH. The presidential limos, two of them, were sandwiched in the middle. People gasped and a few clapped as they sped past us. I was so intent on photographing them with the camera on my BlackBerry that I hardly even saw them. They were simple, classy, and black, and had small flags flapping on either side of the hood. Because of my glacially slow shutter speed, this is the thrilling image I was able to capture:
The limos were already out of sight before my BlackBerry was able to store the image...
The limos were followed by another stream of vehicles like the one that had preceded it, minus the tow truck, and was completely past us in less than a minute. The metal fencing was moved, and people went on their way. It took longer for the cars to get back on the road than it took me, and so I had the luxury of riding with the absolute certainly that I wasn't about to be flattened by a cab for a few blissful blocks. I called Dave on the way home from my tutoring appointment (for which I was on time, after all) to tell him about my adventure, and that evening when I got home he said he'd been delayed on the East Side for the same reason.
I guess it shouldn't come as a surprise that security surrounding the president is so extreme, but it sort of did anyway. Stopping all traffic for 20 minutes in the middle of Manhattan is no small task, and can't have been cheap for the city to do. I know it would have defeated the purpose if he had, but I still wish Obama had rolled down a window and waved at us as he went by.
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