Still trying trying trying to get my mom to meet President Trump in her 100th year for a quick photo op and hand shake, I’ve decided to resort to the obvious. Write to the White House and ask.
To back up, I first started this journey by contacting my high school alumni office to see if they had a direct line to Delaware Senator Chris Coons who also went to the school, he much much younger and no one I knew personally, but I figured hey, his office might at least answer my question given the connection. Nope. Not even a little bit did they care to help. Trump? Ha ha. Click.
You can imagine that times 3000000 calling Schumer and Gillibrand. Yep. Ha ha. Click.
The real connection I thought would be Joe Biden. Delawarean to Delawarean, same church parishioner, same country club golfer. The day I thought to call his Foundation was the day Joe called Trump a fool. So I opted out.
I called the son of an old dear friend of my mother’s who was in Delaware politics himself, albeit as a Democrat. Early in his career, this man worked for (then) Delaware Governor Carper. I told him what I was hoping to accomplish, explained I didn’t expect him to get me the meeting, that I’d do all the talking if he gave me a foot in the door to someone, anyone. He paused, said he’d do anything for my mother, but….. Not but, he won’t help. Rather but, no one he knows likes Trump so it’d be quite an uphill battle. That phone conversation was a few weeks ago and I’ve not heard back from him.
Soooooooooo, I wrote a short but sweet letter to the President. Enclosed the photo of mom at her 98th birthday sporting a MAGA hat. Said I only wanted a thirty second meet and greet, one photo. We’d get ourselves there. Or meet in NYC if that was easier. Any day. Any time.
What are the odds??? Slim to none. I guess it’s a million to one that the WH even responds to the letter. Heck, writing was better than doing nothing.