Dumbstruck, rendered nearly paralyzed by even the thought that this could be a genuine time warp, the president, standing among a large contingent of White House staff, realized as never before to be careful what you wish for, because a lifelong fantasy may have actually come true: "If only I could talk to the framers of the constitution, find out what their original intent was . . . ."
The now recognizable George Washington continued, "And may we ask who you are and from where you traveled?"
Walking down the steps, parting the sea of those still gaping from their perch there, emerged the twenty-first century President of the United States, a tall, athletically built black woman.
"I am the President of the United States in the year 2014. We are aboard an aircraft that flies through the skies. We were crossing the Atlantic Ocean on our way home from France when a sudden air disturbance embraced us, and because we have no other explanation, we assume we have entered a time warp and have been hurtled back in time."
If the time travelers thought they were trapped in a living nightmare, it all instantly froze over beneath them. Every single human standing below on the ground simply stopped moving. If their mouths were agape, they remained so. If their hands were in a gesticulating movement, they stopped in midair. If they turned their heads, they did not turn back, so stunned were they by these simple declarations. They could decipher each individual word, but stringing them together this way proved as foreign a language as any they had ever heard before. And this, after digesting the apparent "reality" that centuries from this date, the United States would elect a Negro woman as president! That, almost more than the sight of this hitherto unidentified flying object, was the bigger source of their paralysis. It upended everything they knew about their own insular universe.
It would be safe to say that both eighteenth and twenty-first century Americans were in such inner turmoil that no one was thinking linearly anymore. How could they? Thoughts jumped at random - so many disconnects - that their cranial synapses simply could not process what they were seeing and hearing. What do we do now? What do we ask?? What? What?! WHAT?!?
The press secretary came up with a sophomoric idea, but inasmuch as no one could even speak, much less think, it was at least a plan, a beginning.
"I think we should start with the current presidents of both centuries. Perhaps they could step forward, introduce themselves, and select a place to begin a dialogue."
Washington, Adams and Jefferson converged, looked up at the hulking fuselage, whispered among themselves for a few heated minutes, and then turned toward the press secretary and informed him that they would all three like to meet with his president inside their flying carriage.
It wasn’t much, but that brief human exchange did much to lower everyone’s tension. There awere a few smiles, mostly affixed to faces willing themselves to believe that all would be well. Fear of the unknown was never more palpable than in this circumstance, but people have an uncanny way of rising to the occasion to quell those fears. And never before was such an effort so admirably attempted.
Climbing aboard Air Force One for our first three presidents must have felt like entering a flying saucer to the current one. The array of heretofore unseen objects and equipment muddled their minds to the point that they could only nod their heads when they were being shown all of the accouterments. Never before could they imagine cell phones, running water, electricity, heat, air conditioning, televisions, toilets. Information, and the speed with which it could be delivered via telephone, fax, computer, plus radar, and weaponry such as the laser beam, not to mention that this flying ship could transport them to France in seven hours, were simply beyond their ability to synthesize all at once. Despite their determination to understand and assimilate as much of this other-worldly phenomena as possible, they remained in an agitated state of awe and disbelief.
After three hours aboard, after they were served food never before eaten, such as an open-faced tuna melt, a Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream cone, a Coke with ice cubes and a straw, the guests invited President Yardley to visit their lifestyle.
Descending with her physician, chief of staff, press secretary, reporters, plus a bevy of secret service agents, President Yardley trailed the honest to goodness founding fathers of our country to their living quarters in town. They were aghast at the primitive conditions; the odors of unwashed bodies, raw sewage in the streets, mice scurrying about in their rooms, and an-as-yet-to-be disposed chamber pot. It gave them pause as they all realized up close and personal how challenging were the everyday living conditions of those who put together that fragile document that would be known more than two hundred years into the future as the world’s longest living constitution a country ever produced.
Reporters in the entourage whispered among themselves whether it would be in our national interests to alert these early Americans to dangers that lie ahead, in the hopes of avoiding unnecessary wars. The chief of staff overheard them and frantically explained that NOTHING could be shared that would change one iota of history. "You make one change and no one can predict the domino effect of that action. We simply cannot take a chance because our best intentions can easily have disastrous consequences."
He rushed over to the president’s side to whisper this same admonition to her. Although disappointed, she quickly understood, realizing she could say nothing about the renewed warring that our fledgling country would engage in again with the British in less than two decades hence. The war of 1812 would destroy the President’s House that was not yet even built. But today, that was destiny - not history.
As they were leaving, they all practically had to step over a mother and small child lying in the doorway. The child, a three year old girl, was delirious with fever - probably the yellow fever still gripping the area. As the physician walked by, he knelt down to look at her, and simply reacted as his profession trained him to do. He reached into his medical bag, pulled out a syringe, and gave the child an injection that would ease her fever, attack any bacteria and allow her to regain enough strength to sip some fluids. He left the speechless and terrified mother with a bottle of pills with directions on administering them, and then quickly departed. The mother did not know whether he was a devil or angel in disguise, so consumed by shock, fear, hope and desperation was she at that moment.
