Reporter's Note: President Obama is reportedly still getting around town in his special armored limousine. Me? I’m still stuck in Indianapolis waiting for the airports to clear enough back home to let me return…and of course, I’m writing letters.
Tom Foreman | BIO
Dear Mr. President,
It is my understanding that you can still get around town, what with your super-charged limo and Secret Service escorts and all. If that is the case, please swing by my house if you can with some firewood and perhaps some words of encouragement.
The power has been off there for a couple of days now, and my wife and younger daughter are growing desperate, even with the phone still working. Well, I suppose that language is a little strong, but suffice to say after 48 hours of candles, and an indoor ambient temperature of about 51 degrees, the house is taking on the same cheery atmosphere of the Overlook Hotel in The Shining. I have been talking to them on the phone every couple of hours, and the conversations are becoming ever more edgy.
“So, did you play Monopoly?”
“No one. I bought four houses, but they were buried in drifts of snow, and then my thimble led a revolt against the utility company for letting the power go out.”
“Hmm. Where is our daughter?”
“She used all the hotel pieces to barricade her little race car inside Park Place. She won’t come out, but I think I can break the wall down with the dice.”
Sort of like that. I’ve worried they’ll be playing poker for sleeping bags and thermals shortly.
All things considered, they have it worse than the elder daughter and I do. We spent all day Saturday shopping and riding past the Colts stadium casting voodoo spells on the team in hopes of helping the Saints win. We may seek out a New-Orleans-friendly restaurant to watch the game tonight, but more likely we will string some black and gold crepe paper in our hotel room, get some snacks, and settle in. If the power is still not on back in DC, we’ll call Jack and Shelly with game updates, assuming they have not skipped ahead to the axe chase through the frozen hedge maze by that time. (Seriously, I am so praying for the power to come back on for them…)
On the airplane front, things still look bleak. Our flight for Sunday afternoon was canceled (just like our flight for Saturday morning was) and the late flight sounded so iffy, that we are now booked for a Monday return. If we are lucky, we may finally be back home (with or without electricity) about 65 hours later than we planned. I’ll have to call into work and let them know I’m stranded, or if you see Ed Henry around the press room would you mind telling him? He can pass it on.
If ever there were a good time for you to call and chat, I must say this is it. I’ve got nothing but time on my hands. We may take a long drive tomorrow just to get out, or maybe find some place for a hike. It’s so strange to be unable to go home because things are so bad there, when things here are comparatively easy.
But trust me if the Colts do the damage many are predicting, I’ll be suffering plenty. For now, keep the faith…Who Dat? GO SAINTS!
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