24 hours In a Previous Life & a Catch Up With President Obama
A flashback to being an Obama Secret Service Agent, full of appreciation and gratitude.
I received a text from a friend and former Secret Service peer around 5 p.m. It was out of the blue, and I was asked if I could be in San Francisco at 4:15 p.m. the following day, as “the boss” was going to be in town. I hurriedly checked my work calendar and confirmed that I could and would be available.
He replied, “Got it, name has been submitted”.
When I left the U.S. Secret Service six years prior (April 2019), the Obamas were amid international travel and my departure was quiet and without fanfare. That’s just how it is, as it’s a very fluid beast and it is never about the agent. It’s about the bigger picture and the wheels roll on. I kept in contact with some of my former peers, for we had become family over the years, traveling the globe together away from our families to protect the Obamas.
Once Obama was in the room, I awkwardly looked for my place…
These are lifelong relationships, akin to being siblings or similar to those formed while serving in the military and police force (I have done both), so the occasional text message or visit when we happened to be in the same zip code is standard. I cherish these bonds, for they helped me through so much. A divorce from my then-husband, reconciling who I was, as the only gay Special Agent on the detail, and myriad troubled relationships along the way.
Six months after I left the Secret Service, I was living in San Francisco in my new role with the Treasury Department and was alerted to Michelle Obama’s upcoming visit to SF. I was asked if I wanted to attend the event and have my photo taken with Michelle, which I naturally leapt at the opportunity.
She saw me and lit up, asking how I was, what I was doing now, meeting my date, etc. I was assigned to her for two years, so it’s natural she’d recognize me, but she radiated warmth and caring, because that’s who she is. Above and beyond for someone in her position. Our photo emanates that comfort and warmth.
Fast forward to present day and needless to say, knowing I would get to step into my old Secret Service shoes for an evening thrilled me. My mind raced to yesteryear, excited and also somehow nervous. What would I say to the former President? Would he remember who I was? Do I mention that I wrote a book and do advocacy for the queer community? That I recently saw and kept up with staff members of theirs? Bestow all of the troubles our country is facing and ask for guidance? How will I not look like a bumbling fool?
The second thing I did was call and try to get a haircut. This picture of Barack and I would forever live in my family and I couldn’t stand to think I’d have less than perfect hair for the photo op. It was a hallmark of mine and usually one that people remember, in a hyper-masculine arena like law enforcement. I was unsuccessful, as I had an appointment already booked for the day after the photo, so I’d have to manage the quaff upon my head the best I could.
He saw me and grinned from ear to ear, which told me he recalled who I was as he extended his hand which turned into a semi-bro hug.
I left my house early to ensure the notorious Bay Bridge traffic didn’t cause me any trouble, arriving an hour prior to the established time. I nervously sat at the bar and had a “new-fashioned”, a twist on the old-fashioned, to calm my nerves. In my mind, I had settled on telling Obama that since last seeing him, I was now a Supervisory Special Agent, I had gotten married last year and two of his staff attended it, and we had a baby last year and recently taken him to Hawaii for the first time.
I wanted to keep things positive and show signs of progress. I was in no position to throw the troubles of our democracy upon his lap, for he, more than any of us, is duly aware of the perils we face. He was being gracious enough to take time from his busy schedule to do this and I wanted to show appreciation for it. He and Michelle were always utmost professionals, yet grounded, kind, and genuine. I expected the same to be true, six years later.
The site agent met me at the bar, telling me when we’d head downstairs for the photo. The drink helped calm my nerves a bit, and being in the presence of a USSS agent helped. She knew who I was, both in my prior and current role, and the camaraderie that exists between Secret Service Agents conveyed. A short while later we headed downstairs to await President Obama and I passed one of my former peers, who I had no idea was still assigned to the Obamas.
Downstairs while we waited, I caught up with one of my prior shift mates, who is now also a supervisory Special Agent, and we didn’t skip a beat. Years had flown by but you’d never know it. Then Obama’s Chief of Staff arrived, who also remembered me. It was like old times.
As “the boss” arrived, so did another former peer of mine, who is now the supervisory agent assigned to Obama. I hadn’t seen him in years, except in media images. Once Obama was in the room, I awkwardly looked for my place, as I was no longer a USSS agent and therefore couldn’t just stand wherever I wanted, and I knew that. I shuffled over into a line and waited my turn.
The detail leader (my former peer) told Obama my name and that I used to be on their detail, as I approached. He saw me and grinned from ear to ear, which told me he recalled who I was as he extended his hand which turned into a semi-bro hug. To be honest it was probably my long-quaffed hair that jostled the memory.
He asked me what I was up to these days, and I said I was now a Special Agent in Charge, got married last year, and also had a son now, and that we had recently returned from his first trip to Hawaii. Obama asked more about Kai and we briefly chatted about Hawaii. He had far more important places to be, so I naturally stepped away from him and thanked him for everything.
I was awkwardly standing there, yet again, and I asked my former colleague where he wanted me to be. We shook hands and a moment later, the entourage was out the door and away they went. I waited a few minutes to ensure the motorcade had departed and made my way back upstairs so I could go home.
It was a brisk visit to my former life. I hoped to have the photo in a month or so.
As I neared my house, my phone pinged, and with it, was the photo of Obama and me. It was pretty similar to the one of Michelle Obama and me, which thrilled me since they’ll inevitably be displayed next to each other.
I stepped into the front door of our home and my husband and son were there to greet me. I held Kai, who promptly spit up on me. He’s known for reserving spit up for just me and he held true to it. We laughed as I sought to get out of the suit before it got any dirtier. It was a rapid snap back to reality, and what really matters.
I was home for dinner and it was my night to put the baby to bed, a routine I cherish. I held him a little longer last night, as he slept in my arms. I often find myself immersed in the moment, taking in his delicate perfect face, the innocence and all that lies before him.
I couldn’t fathom still being a Secret Service Agent and a father at the same time. These days, what matters most is being present for my family and being the best father and husband I can be, to those I love the most.
I don’t regret leaving the agency and agents I loved so much, for they made me who I am today and were an integral part of my life for about a decade. I left the agency for personal reasons, to be able to settle down and build a family. I’ve done just that.
Gone are the days of finding validation in seeing images of myself in the background of the world’s most powerful and influential people, while living out of a suitcase. That validation is now found in the smile of my husband and the laughter of our son. I hold Kai a little longer and hug them a little tighter, knowing many others sacrifice these cherished moments for all of us.
A whirlwind 24 hours it was.
