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Vol. 26:1 ISSN 0160-8460 March 1998
An Evening at the White House
by Gary E. Moulton
I met Dayton Duncan several years ago while he was following the route of Lewis and Clark and writing a book about his experiences and connections to the expedition. When he returned home to New Hampshire from his travels, he wrote Out West, one of the best books about following the trail. Dayton was a friend and neighbor of Ken Burns, the documentary film maker. He told Ken that he ought to make a film on the Lewis and Clark expedition, and with his enthusiasm and wonderful stories he got Ken interested. Ken Burns has become a household name from his great film on the Civil War and then later films on baseball and Thomas Jefferson. Eventually, he had time for Lewis and Clark, a keen interest in the expedition, and help from expedition experts. Ken and Dayton asked me to be a consultant, along with other Lewis and Clark scholars like John Allen and Jim Ronda, and when Stephen Ambrose finished his biography of Lewis, Undaunted Courage, he was brought in as well.
Over the next couple of years I met with Ken and Dayton when we crossed paths, or they called about questions on expedition matters. Later I read Dayton's completed script and commented on it. At another time I met Ken, Dayton, and cinematographer Buddy Squires in Philadelphia while they were shooting pages from the journals at the American Philosophical Society and photographing specimen sheets from the expedition's botanical collection at the Academy of Natural Sciences. I also followed the production crew's progress as they filmed the route and passed through Nebraska and nearby areas. Then in January of 1997, all the consultants were called to Walpole, New Hampshire, to view and comment on a preliminary version of the film. Besides me there were the others who had been doing similar consulting work - Allen, Ambrose, and William Least-Heat Moon. Jim Ronda was ill and couldn't make the trip. We spent a full day reviewing the film and discussing every aspect of it. This was a new way of working for me. I'm used to making all the decisions on a project myself. Here the concept of teamwork was in full play. Well, not entirely, since Ken made the final decision on any alteration, but I found him open to comments and suggestions and ready to make worthwhile changes.
In the following months, I would get a call from Dayton from time to time to tell of progress. I appreciated being informed, but felt that my work was over and that I had really played a small part. Nonetheless, I knew that the work I had done in editing the expedition journals had been important to the production and far more significant than the tasks I'd performed directly related to the film. In late October, Dayton called me again to bring me up to speed and give me the date the film would air. Then at the end of the conversation he casually mentioned that Faye and I had been invited to Meriwether Lewis's old stomping grounds - the East Room of the White House, where Lewis was quartered while he was Jefferson's secretary prior to the expedition. President Clinton had read Ambrose's book and had enjoyed Ken's previous films, and wanted a special showing in Washington. In fact, the President had earlier told reporters that if he could choose to be at any of the nation'shistoric events, he would most like to have been with Lewis and Clark. I was overwhelmed at the chance to go to the White House, but the invitation wasn't a sure thing. Apparently it worked like this: Ken and Dayton sent the White House a list of names (probably in a priority order) and then the White House Social Secretary made the final selection.
Faye and I had earlier planned a trip through the South that would have us on the road about ten days in late October, ending November 2. We didn't know whether to make reservations for a Washington trip and chance that we would lose the money if we didn't make the cut, or just hold out until the last moment. At the same time, the flights were filling up, and last-minute tickets were going to be really expensive. We gambled a bit and held off. Maybe I felt that I hadn't been so important to the project - in Lewis and Clark terms, I was no George Drouillard or John Ordway. Along the way I kept calling Ken's office: "Did we make the cut?" The reply was always: "We're 90% sure" or "We're 97% sure." Finally, we decided to make airline reservations and risk the loss.
When we returned to Lincoln on November 2, I found a message on my office voice mail from the White House Social Secretary inviting us to Washington. I called back to confirm our coming and give our Social Security numbers and dates of birth. A few days later, we received a beautiful invitation in the mail. The last time I got an invitation from the President, I ended up in Vietnam - this one looked better. The envelope was hand-addressed, but I don't think it was written by the President or the First Lady while sitting around the kitchen table. I called a hotel locating service, and they got us a room in Georgetown for about as good a rate as you can get in the capital city on short notice, about $135 a night. We had already decided to make a long weekend of the trip, and had arranged to leave on Saturday, November 8, before the White House reception on Monday, November 10. We got into DC late Saturday evening and found our hotel to be quite nice and not badly located. It was a fairly spacious room that included lots of closet space, a small but well-equipped kitchen with a refrigerator and stove, and most importantly, a coffee pot for Faye and her Starbucks, which she had brought along. The hotel also provided a breakfast of sorts, a cut or two above the Super 8 variety, but satisfactory to us.
It's not often you get in a cab and say, "East entrance of the White House, please." At least, I's never done it before. We were dressed in our best "business attire," since we'd been told it was not a fancy dress affair. Faye did get a new suit for the occasion. When we got to the East entrance, people were already lining up, and we saw several of our Lewis and Clark friends. It was old home week. Then the shocker. Faye had no picture identification as required, and no time to go back for her purse, which she had left in our room. I went up to a big fellow with an earpiece and a stern face and explained our situation. I said that many people in line could vouch for Faye. Jim Ronda shouted that he didn't know her. I didn't laugh. The guy (Secret Service agent?) Said he thought it would be all right. When they came down the line looking at identifications, Faye was able to give her date of birth and Social Security number for verification. I was glad I had given it correctly over the phone.
We went through security checks similar to what you get at airports, and then followed hallways through the East Wing of the White House. All along the way were uniformed military personnel, smartly outfitted and extremely courteous. We ascended some stairs to the main hallway, where a display of Lewis and Clark items from Philadelphia and Washington was laid out. We spent quite a bit of time milling around and congratulating one another and pinching ourselves in disbelief. There was Adam Arkin, who had been Lewis's voice in the film, and his wife. I stuck out my hand and said that I was the editor of the expedition journals. The four of us had a nice conversation, and we told him how much we had enjoyed Northern Exposure, and he said it was a program he really liked and missed. We hadn't watched his new show, Chicago Hope, so we couldn't talk about it. Since that exchange went so well, we started using the same lines on anyone who looked interesting - like Matthew Broderick, who was the voice of Sergeant John Ordway. He was there with Sarah Jessica Parker, and oddly enough was making a move in Omaha at that time. I don't know if they're an item, or if she's also in the new film. I told him we had just seen the relief sculpture of Robert Gould Shaw at the National Gallery of Art. Broderick played Shaw in the movie Glory; it is one of his few dramatic roles, and a great film. We talked a bit about that and his reading of Ordway, and then separated. A few days later, Dayton called and said Broderick wanted a copy of Ordway's journal, so I sent it on.
We were finally called into the East Room, where the one-hour version of the film was to be shown. Faye and I found seats near the front. Then we waited for the President. I visited some with the woman next to me, and asked what brought her to the showing. "I'm the President's secretary," she said. Faye and I had lots of questions about the President's daily work schedule, but she was a bit circumspect in her answers. We had a nice visit nonetheless. Meanwhile, one of the musicians from the film played a flute, accompanied by the soft beating of a drum. And then the President arrived. We all rose and applauded, and he introduced the film and praised Ken's work. He also mentioned a few names of those who'd helped make the film possible - Faye grabbed me when he said Gary Moulton. Pretty incredible. He appeared to have taken time to think about the expedition, to do more than just read some notes written by an aide. One point I thought especially good. He noted that the Nez Perce Indians had provided food from their meager stores and advice about the way ahead to Lewis and Clark, but that when our country had a chance to return the favor seventy years later, the United States had not been so kind. A good point. He mentioned that the East Room had been Lewis's bedroom and office during Jefferson's time, and that Abigail Adams had hung her clothes to dry at one end of the room when she lived in the White House. We watched the film, and then were invited to a reception in the State Dining Room down the hall.
The President left the room, and we thought he was gone for the evening, but he returned after a bit and stayed to the end. He walked right by us when he returned, so we thanked him for inviting us and shook his hand. Pretty neat. He went about the room, visiting and acting the tour guide. Marines stood close by and kept people at a distance, and you could pick out the Secret Service agents not far away. A couple of times we would stand close by and listen to him talk to guests. He seemed to be having a relaxing time. Someone said, "Hillary's out of town, Chelsea's in school, and he can sleep late because tomorrow's a holiday - why not party." The hors d'oeuvres were plenteous and delicious. Scrumptious shrimp and cocktail sauce, and lots of meat and vegetable delicacies. Waiters in formal wear came around with glasses of white wine and sparkling water. When I asked for red wine, the waiter poured a glass of Monticello pinot noir - very nice and very appropriate, I thought, until I saw that it was from Napa Valley, California. Faye and I then moved into other rooms, down the entrance hall, past where a Marine band was playing softly, and on into the Red, Blue, and Green Rooms. There were beautiful paintings and furnishings in each room, all keyed to the color scheme for which the room was named. We found the bathrooms on the floor below, Faye near the Vermeil Room and I near the Library. Uniformed honor guards were stationed along the way, so that we didn't get off into places we shouldn't be going. All right, I picked up a couple of hand towels embossed with the Presidential seal in the bathroom, but they were paper, not cloth.
Back upstairs, Faye and I walked around the Red Room for a while - we thought it the prettiest. We met another couple strolling through, and it turned out to be Bob Costas of NBC Sports and his wife. We talked Husker football a bit. Faye and I then found a small couch in the room just made for us. Waiters offered coffee, and we admired the beautiful view. Out the window and across the terrace, we could see the lighted Jefferson Memorial and the outline of the Washington Monument in the distance. Talk of a room with a view - it was grand! We sat for quite a while, just thinking about where we were and enjoying that view. About 10:30 p.m., the military guards started ushering us out. At the last door, ushers handed out bags with the Presidential seal filled with mementos of the evening - the soundtrack CD of the film, a Lewis and Clark peace medal replica, and a copy of Dayton's book that accompanies the film. All courtesy of General Motors, I'm sure, since they finance all of Ken's films. We hailed a cab and went back to Georgetown. We had had a glorious evening and the thrill of a lifetime. The next day, we returned to our own Lincoln Bedroom.
Gary E. Moulton is editor of The Journals of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, and a professor of history at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.
