The date was January 14, 2013. I was at the grand opening of Step Up on Vine, a facility designed to house and help the homeless who suffered from mental illness. (www.stepuponsecond.org) I was taking photos of VIP guests Former President Bill Clinton, Kobe and Vanessa Bryant, and local police and fire personnel who’d provided assets for the protection of Bill Clinton during his visit to Los Angeles. It’s customary for a Secret Service protectee to take photos with local public service officials (usually the supervisors) who provided resources to ensure a safe and smooth visit.
“Photographer” was nowhere in my job description as a Secret Service agent, but there I was (again) in my business suit, badge, and gun clicking away with a camera.
When I was done taking the requested photos, I turned my camera off and waited for the voice in my ear to radio in that Clinton had departed in the motorcade. I was tired. I was fresh off working a chaotic Presidential campaign the year before. About six months prior, I’d passed Rescue Swimmer School. The preparation and participation for that was the most physically taxing thing I’d done to date. My marriage wasn’t great at the time either. I wanted to protect people, not be the randomly selected photographer because I just happened to know my way around the camera and have a team-player-esque attitude.
But before I could put the camera back in the case, someone spoke to me.
“Hey,” the male voice said, and when I looked up I realized it was Kobe Bryant trying to get my attention.
“Yes?”
“You’ve been taking everyone else’s photos for the past twenty minutes. I’ll take one with you if you have time. Can you get someone to come take your photo?”
I probably stuttered in disbelief for a minute. I took a lot of the police and fire photos with protectees and celebrities during the 2012 campaign especially. Not once prior to this night and never again after this night did anyone ever ask if I’d like a picture, too.
Before I knew it, I was handing the camera to another agent and stepping toward Kobe. He asked my name. I told him.
Other agents were around by then, and one of them made a joke about me needing to stand on my tip toes so both of our heads could be in the same frame. We all laughed, and I stood on my tip toes next to Kobe Bryant as the camera flashed.
“Thank you for taking all of those pictures tonight,” he said as another agent stepped up to get his picture too. Kobe obliged with a smile on his face.
“You’re welcome. Thank you for taking your picture with me.”
“My pleasure.”
I was assigned to work Former President Bill Clinton’s visit in Los Angeles, CA. The night before, we took Clinton to the 70th Golden Globes at the Beverly Hilton Hotel in Beverly Hills, CA. He was a “secret” presenter that year because Steven Spielberg’s film Lincoln had won Best Motion Picture Drama. Clinton “surprised” everyone by presenting the iconic award.
I was a Protective Intelligence Site Agent for this visit, meaning I was onsite during the events and dealt with any threats. I liked working in the Protective Intelligence (PI) Squad in the Los Angeles Field Office. I was able to do a lot of protection which I loved, and PI agents were obviously utilized for every single protection assignment in the area.
Working Bill Clinton visits was always an adventure of sorts. He was (probably still is) chronically running late for everything and has the uncanny ability to engage pretty much anyone in conversation as if they were old friends. It’s an enviable skill. I’ve seen it in action, and I’m impressed. But it usually meant we would be at venues later than anticipated due to his crowd mingling. Not only that, but working Bill Clinton visits in Los Angeles meant he would be hanging out with celebrities at some point. After the Golden Globes, we went to the Sunset Towers Hotel where anyone who was anyone in “show biz” was attending an after party.
I’m not the type to get star struck. Sure. I have major “closet and hair envy” for Blake Lively. We can just call her my style icon. She makes fashion seem effortless and natural. Christian Louboutin even has a red-bottomed pump named after her. (Side Note: I’m a U.S. size 8.5 if anyone comes across a pair of the rare Blake Louboutin’s… Just saying AND just kidding.)
I’ve seen plenty of celebrity types over the years. During Presidential Campaign years, Secret Service agents often refer to Los Angeles as the “Hollywood ATM” because candidates frequent the area for celebrity endorsements and donations.
One of my last assignments as an agent was at George Clooney’s house for a Hillary Clinton fundraiser during the 2016 campaign. I remember standing at my post, and Anna Wintour, longtime editor of Vogue Magazine, came by and spoke with me a minute or two. That’s rare. Agents have the natural ability to be invisible in the presence of wealth and celebrity. We’re treated more like “the help” than humans sometimes. But nonetheless, she saw me, and she engaged me.
Maybe I was slightly star struck because Wintour is the epitome of high fashion, and what she says goes in that world. I liked her vibe, at least the one she gave off when literally no one else was around except the tired female Secret Service agent in a business suit manning (or “womanning”) her post.
In reality, I don’t truly care about anyone’s celebrity status. I don’t care how rich anyone is. I don’t care how big or fancy anyone’s house is. Being in celebrity presence is nothing I’m trying to brag about. It irks me when idiots meet someone “famous” and then go around referring to them as a “good friend.” (Insert eye roll)
I’m more likely to be impressed with how a person acts when no one else is around. There’s so much scandal and drama in the celebrity world. Fame often turns into entitlement which often leads to below average moral integrity. But everyone has baggage. We’ve all been a less-than-stellar person at some point. Just because someone landed it big in Hollywood, politics, fashion, or athletics doesn’t mean they ceased to be human as a result.
About a month ago, I pulled my photo with Kobe out of a box full of old Secret Service time cards after Kobe had come up in conversation. Last week, I watched Bryant’s documentary “Muse” on Showtime. I hadn’t thought of that photo (or Kobe for that matter) in a long time. But he’d been on my mind lately, apparently, and then yesterday my phone started buzzing with various news outlets breaking the news of his tragic death at merely 41 years of age.
Death usually triggers reflection. Nancy Reagan’s death made me revisit my own legacy. By doing that, I realized I was becoming someone I didn’t like very much. I didn’t want to be remembered as the tired, depressed, and angry Secret Service lady. That’s not who I was meant to be.
Kobe was once quoted as saying, “I’m reflective only in the sense that I learn to move forward. I reflect with a purpose.”
I like the idea of reflecting with a purpose. It’s easy to lament and dwell on regret. It’s easy to get caught up in what used to be and what got screwed up. It’s easy to reflect in the most negative ways that bring me down rather than up (or forward). My reflection is easily translated as self-loathing if I don’t check myself.
Last week, I was overtired and frustrated with some aspects of my life I wish were changing more rapidly. I admit I lashed out, and I didn’t like it. I caught myself and that was humbling. I’m not that angry person anymore, but I can be when I’m tired or frustrated about something unrelated to the person or situation I’m lashing out upon.
Self-awareness is an essential part of reflection, I think. So much of life is tragic and chaotic. So much of it is beautiful, too. Some aspects are outside of my control. Some things I can control, namely my actions.
Kobe passed away yesterday, and his legacy is pouring out all over news and media outlets. To many, he was a basketball great, a truly talented athlete. To me, he’s the guy who gave me the time of day when it didn’t benefit him at all to do so. No media was around to capture his kind gesture. No big crowds were gathered around. I was a nobody in his world, and yet he took the time to let me know I was seen.
“It’s the one thing you can control. You are responsible for how people remember you—or don’t. So don’t take it lightly.” – Kobe Bryant
Embracing the typos till next Monday,