Part II of IV
In July of 1997 posters advertising the game were plastered all over town. “Earthquake Headed To Dublin”, they read, “Touchdown Imminent!” Cheerleaders appeared on the corners of every street handing out pamphlets. Irishmen gathered in pubs nationwide and wondered allowed. “What in the world is American football anyway? Why can’t they play a proper game?”
Meanwhile, we carried on working and escorting important type people to functions by and for the NFL. One night we got all spiffed up in our dress blues and escorted Ambassador Jean Kennedy Smith and her brother Senator Ted Kennedy to a charity dinner in support of Irish Special Olympics.
I had two Marines stationed at the entrance with M-14 rifles (for drill only) like sentries guarding the entrance to the dining room. When the Ambassador entered they snapped to attention and came to a sharp present arms terribly impressing everyone as I escorted her to her table. I pulled out the Ambassador’s chair and once seated I took a position nearby to watch the show. I really don’t remember too much of it except that the host was a well known Irish comedian who nearly lost all his teeth that night.
As the dinner was coming to a close and it was time for me to escort the Ambassador from the dinning hall I approached her table and came to attention. The Irish comedian took it upon himself to begin jumping around me and asking questions like: “Are you one of those guys who can’t move no matter what I do? Are you allowed to talk or anything?Hello?Hello?” This was much like an episode of The Simpsons in which Homer asks many of the same questions.
Our Irish friend fared far better than Homer much to the relief of Irish-American diplomatic relations. I remained at attention while this fool jumped around me like a lunatic. I considered grabbing him by his throat and crotch then hurling him through the nearest window, but I was there for the Ambassador not for myself, so he got a pass. The guests all appreciated my willpower as well and applauded that fact that I didn’t perform a disembowelment so soon after dessert. Jean Kennedy Smith took my arm and patted it saying: “Very good.” She knew what her boys were capable of.
More tolerance in part three!