Chapter 2

After staggering out of bed I doused cold water in my face to sharpen my senses. Unknowing to me, at that very early time, I was going to need all of the sharpness I could get. I promptly dressed and after admiring the end results of my efforts to look spiffy and sharp I declared myself ready. I left the house about 10 minutes to 7 that morning to pickup the other volunteer. Her name is Charlotte Van Denberg. She is a 5' tall 80 year old. In her first conversation with anyone new she tells about staying busy, being active and that she plays on a softball team. I lost count of the times I heard that introduction. She is a trooper and doesn't complain, much. In a sense she has the characteristics of Mom at that age, wanting to do all she can before checking out. The trip to Dodger Stadium went very well, no gridlocks and only taking about 45 minutes. I think maybe that is the second time I've been inside the fenced area of Dodger Stadium. I am not a fan and have no desire to fight the crowds to see anyone play. It is a big complex, lots of open area for about a zillion cars to park. The volunteer staging area only used a tinnie winnie bit, like a 55 cent stamp on a legal size envelop.

There, we were issued our black security volunteer polo shirt and a credential identified as a Perimeter Pass. Slight as it was, it was the first hint that maybe Charlotte was going to need help to survive. It was necessary to change our shirts. I had to tell her where to do that as well as fix her Perimeter Pass so that she could wear it around her neck. We boarded a bus that was quite obviously used for grade school size kids. The isle and seats were very small. After I got Charlotte situated her seat belt required adjustment. Got that done and buckled her up. As we waited for the bus trip to begin, I silently wondered what the day had in store. A few on the bus had been there the day before. I marveled that they were still alive and there were no visible evidence of injuries. I felt a little bit at ease, but I knew professional goonies were able to conflict bodily punishment without leaving marks. I looked deep into their eyes to see if they were hiding hurt and fear from us newbies. I detected none. As the bus pulled away we passed by the stadium, there in a great big wall mural was a picture with the name Gary Sheffield. For a brief moment I thought it was my baby brother, Jim. However, he was more tanned and I think it is really a case of all Sheffields looking alike. At least the younger generation. It was pretty much an easy simple trip to the compound. However, we went through residential areas that were a contrast to ours in Whittier. So it was interesting to see that the people there live a bit different from our style of living. I thought to myself this could be Wylie, Nevada or even Pella, but I knew better. The bus dropped us off at Figueroa and Venice.

Chapter 3

Figueroa and Venice was only about a mile from where we were to receive our credentials identified as a Security Pass. That wasn't very good for Charlotte as the entire distance was in the morning sun. I wasn't too fond of it either, but there was no choice. As we approached the pass issue point a young female reporter singled us out and approached to interview us. She was just full of questions. I silenced her by saying that was our very first day and we had no idea what we were doing. I thought to myself, "Could this be our 15 minutes of glory and fame?". As I reflect on that encounter I think she thought Charlotte and I were romantically linked as she still was interested in interviewing us. Retracing our steps we returned to the checkpoint for entering the Staples Center. The reporter and her cameraman were at our sides. Unfortunately, the reporter was told that they must go to the media entry, that was the last time we saw them. Rats, we probably were to be front-page news and maybe even TV. No telling where that could have taken us. Possibly into the dark secret passages of the celebrities' over and under worlds, where nothing is impossible and riches beyond belief. I know the food would have been better. After queuing at the checkpoint, our Security Passes were scanned. For a second I thought we were going to be stripped searched, but we only were required to remove everything from our pockets and passed through a some sort of detector. They didn't call it a metal detector, but I can't recall the term used. Maybe it was an Xray machine. I did feel a little violated and faint after passing through, but I think it was because we lost our reporter. We walked into an entrance of the Staples Center. Massive sized place. I later found out that the layout of the center is circular and consist of the Floor Area, the Lower Concourse. A Suite, B Suite, C Suite and the Upper Concourse. Getting to the various levels, without a doubt, can be a bit confusing. With the help of a guide we finally found our assigned room B316. It was on B Suite Level. We all agreed that made good sense for B316 to be on B Level. After hurrying up we waited, similar to being in the armed forces.

Chapter 4

After most of the volunteers had arrived we were briefed about the operation, how some things had gone wrong, what was expected to happen, encouraged to live up to our commitment to work our post professionally and assured that other things would go wrong. Being flexible was the key. It seems that some had decided it wasn't their cup of tea and left their post. The volunteers were a mixture of all ages, sexes and looks. There were this element of young bucks that appeared to be frustrated Gestapo Storm Troopers. I wondered if I were their age, would I have been one of them. Since this isn't a book and I'm not getting paid for the length I will bypass all of the chitter chatter that went on amongst the oldies and their eagerness to share their previous days experiences. Us newbies had only a few minutes to absorb the guidelines to be used in admitting passes to the various areas before the Captains started picking their slaves. In general most passes were issued daily. They were in different colors for different areas of admittance. Only one changed appearance each day. It was the Suite Level Pass, wouldn't you know it. The Red, Yellow and darkish Green had holographs that changed colors daily. As you would expect, to eliminate making it simple there were exceptions to the rule. Fortunately, we obtained a printout for the various colors and the areas involved.

During this briefing, I noticed one of our very own young female Norwalk Station Sheriff Volunteer in the Captain and Supervisor group. I thought I got an inside track. She had always been friendly, but oddly she was ignoring our presence. I was to find out later why she had done so. This Captain and Supervisor group was the big boys and girls. They were assigned radios and controlled the various area, assigned groups and were to give those 1 hour breaks. Be nice to them I thought. Each of the duty areas were discussed. The previous information had said that the duty time would be 2 hours on and 1 hour off. However, it was emphasized that this perk was not cast in concrete. Oh my, what did that mean? We were told that the Lower Concourse was the most physical, demanding and stressful. It was strongly suggested that none of the older volunteers request that assignment. One must be very cautious about age discrimination, one should only strongly suggest. Of course, that was going to be were I was going, but when I told Charlotte that she needed to go along with a Suite Level Captain, her response was "Oh no, I have to be with you" I attempted to explain, but her response was that "if I had known that I wouldn't have come". For each reason I gave that she would be alright she had two for why she needed to stay with me. Talk about giving someone a guilt trip for free. There was no way she was going to be convinced that she'd be okay. She was to be my shadow from that point till the end. I wondered about head calls, could she or could she not. Thank goodness that was one thing she managed on her own. At that very moment I realized that I still haven't matured in being sympathetic or empathetic. I was a bit p'oed, to say the least, but I eventually over time will forget. We waited for the Suite Level Captains to request volunteers. We joined the B Suite Level. We were escorted around to our post. Together we were assigned Stair 17. A mere 4 hours after sloshing cold water in my face we were officially unarmed Security Guards and the fun began!

Chapter 5

There at Stairwell 17 were four doors connecting Suite Level B with the stairs that allowed ingress and egress to all levels. Our post was directly across from Suites 40, 41, 42 and 43. 40 and 41 were used by KCAL Channel 9, an independent station in LA. 42 and 43 were used by MS-NBC. I understand that is some joint association between Micro Soft and NBC. Their operation seemed to be news and interviews with the well known. You TV nuts know better than I. We weren't privy to the sheet of information that told what media was occupying the other suites. During one break I did walk the circle, but can't recall all of the media represented. You name it, it was most likely there. The three suite levels were primarily media. Some were on all three levels. Our position was one on each side of one door that remained open at all times, the other three were closed, but could be used as exits only from B Level. At times when used as exits some attempted to use as entrances. This helped keep me awake and alert. However, most preferred to use the open door. Couldn't figure if this were because they were to lazy to push the others open or if it were just more fun to go squeeze through a tight opening. At first the coming and going was just a trickle. It would become a very busy post during certain hours. Whenever any of the nearby suites were approaching a televising mode it hummed all around us. It is a bit of a shame that I'm not the type to be familiar with the television world. From all of the hubbub I could tell there was a well known lurking about, but most I didn't know. Of course, some where so well known that the only way you wouldn't recognize them would to be permanently housed in a padded cell. I do watch Channel 9 News so I was aware of those folks and they were the first I saw, Harvey, Kilbride etc..

What was very noticeable was that most of them were very thin. It seemed that all of their 9's newscast originated there. Over the course of two days we became friendly with the behind the scenes folks from the two operations. Most all of them were friendly, but Channel 9 were the more friendly. We had a open invitation to pop into their Suite 40 anytime they weren't televising to look out over the podium and floor area. I wish I had be able to jot down each and every well known person I saw so that I could share it with you, but that wasn't possible. Several times we had a large entourage of cameras, reporters, guards, fans etc. come in, leave by or pass by our doors. The first I recall was someone I never knew, but he surely caused a big commotion. He was called the Rock and I believe he is a wrestler. Oh boy, was he Hollywood with his cool sunshades and most all the nearby women knew who he was. Following very close, but behind him was, I suppose, his female companion. She didn't have cool sunshades, but lots of make up and big time top heavy. I guess Rock was convinced to remove his cool sunshades during his interview on MS-NBC because he didn't have them on as he left. Without them I didn't think he looked so cool. Also only after seeing her exit through our door did I realize that his female companion's upper top was larger than her lower bottom. Really, I'm not joking! A bit weird looking, but hey I guess that is what is in fashion.

Later, a wisp of a gal, with not so large of an entourage did some sort of ranting and raving as she challenged the Rock. She was maybe at the most a third of his size. If I'd have had a 12 inch ruler I bet it would have been long enough to measure across her body. What her body lacked in size her mouth made up for it by making lots of noise. I'm not certain what the challenge was all about, but it was, without a doubt, sincere. Our Captain Juan was good to his word as we were given a break after each 2 hour duty. Our first came at 12 Noon.

Chapter 6

At 12 Noon sharp Captain Juan and Supervisor Alex replaced us. Sup Alex advised that lunch was being served in our cozy B316. We took off to get our food. We each received a sealed box lunch and a very nice plastic bottle of warm water. It was sealed, no doubt, to keep anyone from doping our food. Thinking that maybe she was tired I ask Charlotte if she were going to eat her lunch there. She asked where I was going and I told her that I thought I'd go up to the Upper Concourse, just to see what it was like. Being a real trooper she said she wanted to go with me. How could I refuse, so off we went. It was like being in a Crows Nest. The air was thin way up there. We sat down so as not to overdo it, pass out and fall to the Floor Area. That would have ruined the show for sure. At that time the place was near empty so we had our choice of seats. The people on the Floor looked really small. This was where we were to later send Special Guest. I didn't get the connection, but I guess the contribution size dictated the seating arrangement. The less you gave the higher you went. Carefully unsealing the cover I peeked into the box lunch There inside was this assortment of special high energy food. There was a almost half of a sandwich with two packets of mayonnaise and one of mustard, a bag of potato chips, a small nectarine and a cookie. I squeezed the bread and it didn't give at all. I thought it was either toasted or week old bread, week old won out. My thoughts drifted back to that lost interview and the likelihood of a lavish meal in one of the fancy suites with wine no less had they not been sent to a different entry. Anyhow, it probably would have been a high calorie rather than a high-energy meal. And, the water softened up the bread enough to be able to swallow it. We hardly spoke as we gratefully downed our delicious lunch, washing it down with generous gulps of warm water.

After we finished eating I leaned back to relax as I gazed out over the Floor below. I could feel the surge of energy ripple through my tense muscles and felt renewed. We were about three quarters through our 1-hour break. Understanding that our shift ended at 2200 I knew we had a long way to go before the day came to an end. I suggested to Charlotte that we return to B316 and get ready for our next 2 hours. We were right on schedule as we returned to our post. and resumed our duties. I could tell Capt. Juan was impressed. It was obvious that activity was picking up. We also had gained a helper. He was an usher, a paid employee of the Staples Center. It was evident that he was no novice at this job. He could see and read those passes from afar. I was getting really sharp myself at recognizing the colors but just couldn't master reading the day without looking at the pass close up. I wasn't sure how Charlotte was making out and hoped no one was taking advantage of her. She didn't seem to appreciate our helper being there, as she kept giving me these strange expressions when he wasn't looking. At times it really got hectic. When that happened I could see Charlotte doing lots of smiling, I wondered what that implied. The majority of the people were patient, but some got snippy. The Secret Service would bring through some high fluting people and announce to us who was coming through. It was a signal that you didn't bother asking those folks for their passes. Most of the Secret Service had small laminated ID cards hanging around their necks, but some hid those only revealing a small lapel pin. The first time I had a lapel pin flashed at me I ask the man "So, what's that mean?". He promptly educated me that he was Secret Service. I was getting exposed, experienced and pretty good at this job. More rich and famous people passed within touching distance. It was funny though, as none tried to touch me. As I said the numbers and the who I rubbed elbows is a blur to me. I can't recall which day I saw who. Some of the names that did come to mind are Whoopie Goldberg, Christy Brinkley, Jesse Jackson. Gore's daughter was interviewed. However, most were familiar faces without names. Time dragged and time flew. Captain Juan and Supervisor Alex lived up to their promise and had us replaced every 2 hours. At about 2115 the pace had slowed to a crawl and we were dismissed from our post at about 2130. I couldn't decide which hurt the most my feet or my eyes. I'm not certain if Charlotte were more tired than I, as she never uttered a word. Just as we reached our bus stop one pulled away. Thank goodness it was only a short while before another showed up. Everyone was very anxious to climb aboard and strike out for Dodger Stadium. Just outside the compound there was lots of traffic on the streets.

Chapter 7

As the big little bus wound its' way through the back residential streets to enter the 110 Freeway the silhouettes of law enforcement personnel and their vehicles were visible in the shadows. Each had there very own distinct appearance, LAPD, CHP, LACS, ATF. They were ready for anything to happen, but hoping nothing would. It was a warm night and windows everywhere were open to let the cool night breeze purge the day's heat. Television sets were on, entertaining themselves as no one seemed to be watching. It seemed everyone had gone to the Moon. We knew that there were hundreds of people packed into these buildings along our way. Each had their own personal story to tell, but no one wanted to listen, especially us. The bus left its' trail of exhaust as our tail lights grew faint and we disappeared from their sight. At times I wondered if the driver knew where he was headed and was relieved when we entered the access road to 110. The route took us along the Northwest side and adjacent to the city. What a sight to behold. Each of the high rise buildings was flooded in a different hue of red, white and blue. Spotlights danced around as if they were the clowns of the night.

There was no doubt whatsoever that this month's electrical bill was going to be higher than last month. Surely each tax payer would appreciate the beauty and feel it was worth it, the city had done itself proud. The freeway was crowded, the trip was slow and sounds inside the bus were near silent. All were tired from a job well done, but none were bragging. The bus finally pulled into the mammoth sized parking lot and discharged its' passengers. As each person left the bus to seek out their ride or try to recall where in the world they had left their car a sense of relief was evident. Only one more day to go. Charlotte and I found our VOPmobile with ease. I knew that light bar on top of the vehicle was to be our guiding light. As we pulled away I reminded Charlotte that she was to be my navigator.

I had tried to memorize the return instructions, but fatigue was closing in on my brain. I decided that my eyes were really burning more than my feet were hurting. I thought to myself I surely could use some refreshing eye drops. None were to be had. I didn't let on to Charlotte because I didn't want her to panic. It was an easy route back, until I missed the turn into 101 South. It was approximately 2220. Now it seemed that Temple would eventually run into 5 so I didn't attempt to turn around. Shoot I knew where I was almost, at least close in the approximate direction I needed to go. The streets in this area of town were almost deserted. Charlotte never said a word. I kept assuring her that I was taking her on a tour of the town and not to worry. If she did worry she didn't expose her discomfort to me. She is such a trooper. After about 20 minutes of sight seeing I got us back into the mainstream of 5, it was approximately 2240 and headed toward Whittier and home. Pulling into her drive I said I'll be here same time in the morning. I waited until she was safely inside her home then backed out and pulled away, it was 2255 on the auto clock. Thank goodness, I'd be home soon. I had been sharp enough earlier to transfer my openers from the TA to the VOPmobile. As I turned into our entrance drive the rear view mirror reflected a faint smile on my face as I clicked open the gate to VVT. I cut the lights so not to be readily seen and backed into my garage. Chance made me notice a waiting message on my machine. Reluctantly I played it back. Two more female volunteers needed transportation the next morning. I made a quick call to give time and place and warned them not to be late. After a refreshing bath and shave I retired to dreamland. No sooner had I fell asleep when I heard a familiar sound, it was the clock radio beckoning me to wake to another day.

Chapter 8

It was de ja vu, the cold water splash in the face shocked me awake. It was a smart move on my part to have bathed and shaved before going to bed, I wasn't motivated to have done either one. I repeated the same motions and movements of the previous morning and achieved the same results. The nights short rest had restored my vigor. My eyes had a faint burning so I treated them to some nice soothing drops. Grabbed a quick bite of energy food and departed. The trip to Charlotte's was uneventful. She was waiting in the drive as one of the other females had called to tell her of their joining us. One arrived a little early. I firmly stated that we would wait 5 minutes on the other, allowing that her watch hadn't be synchronized with the VOPmobile clock. At 5 minutes after 7 I pulled away, just at that very moment she turned the corner. I kindly backed up and waited for her to change vehicles. Her tardiness wasn't her fault, a train was the culprit. It was good that she had a valid reason, otherwise it may have ruined our day. We were leaving about 15 minutes later than before. It was to make a noticeable and significant difference in the traffic flow. It appeared that those who had gone to the Moon the night before were just now returning. Arriving at Dodger Stadium we checked in and received our Thursday issue Perimeter Pass. The bus trip into the compound entrance went smoothly. As we entered into the compound a young female employee of CNN driving a golf cart pulled up along side and asked if we'd like a ride. Believing there wasn't enough room for all of us and being the gentleman that I am I declined, but everyone insisted that I squeeze aboard. It was a cozy ride and in short order we were at our destination. I casually looked around to see if our reporter was there again. There was no sign of her or her cameraman. I guess she had gotten her story and left. One of those missed opportunities in life, it just wasn't meant for us to have our moment in history.

Getting to B316 was no big deal today. New personnel over there, returnees over here, Captains and Supervisors against this wall echoed in the close quarters of B316. Today was the Fourth Quarter, the final stroke, the closing curtain all rolled into one. It was to be a grand day for all. The DNC Security head honcho and his henchman were there to brag about how good of a job that had been done by our lot. There was little room for doubt had we not been in charge the DNC probably would have been a failure in many ways. A short briefing was given to the newbies and we oldies smiled in unison as if someone in the background had pulled a string. With a reminder to continue in our best manner we were advised to join our Captain and Supervisor. I could tell Captain Juan and Supervisor Alex were glad to see us return. We were good! With very little difference the day unfolded as it had before. Familiar faces with names unknown to me were seen more frequently as was expected on the final day. Unseen by us, but easily heard was lots of upbeat entertainment happening down on the Floor. The place was jumping with excitement. Without any elaboration our high energy box lunch was quietly replaced by McDonalds' certificates, redeemable on the Lower Concourse (LC) . Someone got the bright idea of putting the nice plastic bottles of water in ice. A really neat idea, gave the water an entirely different flavor. At lunch I escorted Charlotte down to McDonalds, she was fearful of getting lost in that place and probably more so that I wouldn't come looking for her if she did. I wasn't in need of nourishment so I put Charlotte at one of the stand up tables to eat and told her I'd come back after her a little later. I decided to go around the LC Circle to see what was happening. I was walking and gawking at the sights, as if I were a country boy from some far remote places like Pella, Wylie or Nevada. All of the sudden I caught sight of these arms waving about in the corner of my vision. I first thought it was some nut demonstrator that had circumvented the sophisticated entry system. However, it turned out to be Rebecca, the volunteer I mentioned earlier. She asked me how I was holding up in watching out for Charlotte. She told me that she had worked with Charlotte at our Substation and knew that she required a bit more assistance than she was interested in providing. In no way did she want to have Charlotte in her LC Group. It was then I realized why she hadn't acknowledged our presence. Right or wrong, I felt a little relief having heard someone else verbalizing my thoughts about having to baby sit. It was time to fetch Charlotte and return to post. The remainder of the day was similar to, but quite a bit busier than Wednesday.

Time flew by, before we knew it was Gore's acceptance speech time, leading up to the conclusion and grand finale. We could hear bits and pieces of his speech. During that time it was fairly quite at the post, such that two of us were able to handle it. I sent Charlotte into KCAL Suite to watch the end. Our usher assistant got a glimpse through an open suite door of the balloon release. By the time I joined Charlotte to see and hear the final moments the balloons had settled to the Floor. An abundance of brilliantly colored reflective confetti had been released, lights were flickering and sending those brilliant colors bouncing all over the place. The Delegates were having a ball chanting their slogan, waving their flags and placards. It would have been a good picture to have had. It was a sight to see. I went back to our post. At first it was just a small group of beat the rush departures, but then it grew quickly into a massive maze of humanity. I couldn't believe that number of people could have been inside those suites. It seemed they would never stop coming. Most everyone wanted to leave, but there were some bucking the exiting flow and we had to check their credentials. It wasn't over yet, as far as security was concerned. We were still under the gun. We were told to be extra alert to souvenir collectors taking items that were a part of the Staples Center. I never saw anyone attempt that. It seemed to me that all were departing in a sane manner and behaving themselves. We did have a situation where our ground exit was closed due to the crush of people. At that time those who got stopped on the lower level came back toward us seeking another way out. That caused a bit of excitement when the two groups met face to face. Shortly after 9 it was down to a trickle of people. Much earlier than had been expected. Captain Juan and Supervisor Alex passed by to see how we were doing. They returned shortly and told us we could leave, our duty was finished. As I exited the center I heard them playing Gore's speech over the sound system. Outside, it was not finished. The crowds were still large, milling about as if in a giant mixer. Everywhere you looked were lines of people waiting on buses to board. We didn't have a golf cart to ride back so we started off on our trek. Timing was perfect, our bus rolled up shortly after Charlotte and I arrived. I looked about the group and wondered how these security volunteers had done their job and had the time to acquire all of the souvenirs that they were taking aboard. Surely they hadn't turned their back on their duty to gather up keepsakes, or had they. One had managed somehow to acquire one of the large state delegate post signs. He was having some difficulty getting it down the narrow bus isle. He had to be one strong man or maybe it was made out of balsa wood. I overheard a muted conversation in back of me about E-bay. I wondered if their intention was to auction all of the junk they had taken. The bus pulled away to join the creeping line of traffic. It must have taken one large circle to turn around and pass back by where we left some 10 minutes earlier. I didn't feel so badly about the Wednesday night's tour that I gave Charlotte. It was only 10 minutes longer. After awhile we were retracing our path from the night before. We seemed to be passing through a movie backdrop. The same shadowy silhouettes of law enforcement. Nothing had seemed to change, the open windows, the self entertaining TV's, the same stories were begging to be told, but the people who had them to tell had tired of their world and had returned to the Moon. We left it as we found it for better or worse we'll never know. It disappeared into the darkness and into history. The big little bus pulled up to our staging area and dropped us off. Without any fanfare the people scattered and faded away. Charlotte and I waited.

Two buses later our compadres appeared. This time I carefully watched for the 101 South entrance. We were going home, mission well done and accomplished. No one aboard the VOPmobile had an interest in attending the Zoo Party, we all wondered why but no one would say. It was 2220. The freeway wasn't crowded and was moving as a mountain stream flowing to the ocean below. Before long we arrived at Charlotte's drive where we had departed some hours ago. I waited until all of the females were safely on their way before I rolled the faithful VOPmobile toward home. That night the old bath and shave routine would wait till the next day. As I lay there trying to relax before sleep would take hold I reflected on some of the more personal thoughts and perhaps how fate had put me there. I wondered if Jesse Jackson would have been so polite and friendly to me had he known that I never really cared for him? Mainly because I think he is a ramble rouser. I wondered if Betty Lancaster was going to be surprised that I was able to meet her friend Deanya Kuecklehan in all of that madness? Betty is a recently discovered McKenzie / Boone blood relative of Fannin County Texas. Deanya is a Delegate from there. It was a bit ironic the way I was able to meet her. Probably be interesting to some to hear how it came about. I wondered if there were any significance in my hearing Gore blame the mean old tobacco companies, for luring adults and children into the evils of smoking, as I exited the Staples Center that final night? I wondered what price I was to pay for not being more kind to Charlotte? I wondered if I would take the time to write up a little story about this experience? I wondered if I would ever come across anyone that I saw in those two days/nights and wonder where I had seen that face before. I was full of wonderment and still wondering as sleep took hold, but no dreams were to come, too tired I guess.

The End!