This is the saga of my life of crime. The crime? Illegal possession and use of a photographic tripod in Washington DC.
In the early 1990s I made a trip to Washington DC to take some specialized computer training classes. Since I had never been to Washington DC before, I arranged to spend a few days on my own to tour Washington after the classes were over. I brought my camera equipment with me so that I could take photographs while I was there.
My flight to Washington DC flew into Washington National Airport. As the plane was coming in for the landing, we were very close to touching down when the pilot gunned the engines and suddenly we were climbing. Then for the next several minutes the pilot took the plane through a number of aerobatic and rather drastic maneuvers reminiscent of some of the barnstorming antics of the crop dusters of yore. The only thing missing was a loop-the-loop. There was a hush among the passengers and the look of terror was evident on all our faces. It was scary not knowing what was happening. Finally, after several minutes, the pilot got on the PA system and said that he had to abort the landing because there was another plane on the runway. Then after he aborted the flight, the plane was headed towards the White House. The pilot explained that FAA regulations forbid flying over the White House and that the Federal Government is prepared to shoot down any plane headed towards the White House that might be considered a threat. This necessitated the aerial acrobatics. How close we were to being shot down I will never know. The pilot and crew got a grateful round of cheers and applause when we finally got back to terra firma safely. This should have been a premonition of what my trip to Washington DC was going to be like.
I attended the training classes and then I explored Washington. I remember walking to the White House one afternoon. Then I went to the Smithsonian. The Smithsonian consists of 14 or 15 large museums and I only went through two of them. I recall seeing literally thousands of light bulbs, including many made by Thomas Alva Edison. The most memorable exhibit was one that featured steam engines. I happened to be there when one of the docents was firing one up. Since I was the only person there, he explained steam engines practically last forever if they are maintained. The Smithsonian only accepts steam engines that are in good working order and has a policy of actually running them on a monthly basis. I happened to be there on the day that the docent was running a steam engine that first provided electricity for lights in Philadelphia. I remember telling the docent that I wouldn't mind having a steam engine like that one in my garage. It was a neat steam engine and in pristine condition.
After the Smithsonian, I headed to the Washington Memorial, the Jefferson Memorial and the Lincoln Memorial. I should have suspected that there was an issue when a guard at the Lincoln Memorial made a comment about my taking pictures with a fancy camera and a tripod. I realized that there might be an issue but I did not ask for clarification. Later in the day, I ended up at the US Capital. I was there just to look around and plan what I wanted to photograph the next day. As I got to the edge of the Capital along a major thoroughfare, I could see a large demonstration in progress in the distance. Not knowing what it was about, I didn't get any closer. I set up my camera on my trusty tripod. I was mostly doing this to get ideas for photograph when I planned to return the next day. I ended up talking with some fellow tourists. I learned that the demonstrators were Hasidic Jews who were demonstrating because the Israeli Prime Minister was giving a speech to the US Congress. I really did not want to be near the demonstration, so I didn't venture closer to the Capital.
While I was talking to the other tourists, a cop came up to me and started to harass me about my tripod. I really did not understand what he was talking about but I remember him telling me that if he saw me with the tripod again, he was going to confiscate it. His partner was standing quite a bit away from us. When the first cop started to walk away, the partner came up to me. Maybe it was a 'good cop, bad cop' routine. I explained to the second officer that I was in Washington for some training classes and was an amateur photographer who took his photography seriously. This officer told me that if I wanted to use a tripod, I would need to get a tripod permit. He also told me that the permit was free. Apparently anyone who uses a tripod in Washington DC is considered a professional and the policy is used to control the large number of professional photographers who swarm around the government buildings.
Well it was springtime, which meant that it was also tax time. I figured that I had just paid Uncle Sam more in income tax than Exxon, Mobile, and General Electric combined had paid in corporate income tax that year and that, by God, I was going to get me a tripod permit. I asked the second cop where I needed to go to get the permit. I said I had to go to the Capitol Police security office and pointed in the general direction towards the Capital building. The demonstration was breaking up and I went from cop to cop to cop (since there were a zillion cops there because of the demonstration) asking where the security office was. The officers were reasonably friendly, probably because I couldn't be mistaken for a Hasidic Jew. The Jews were dressed in black suits, had black beards, and all wore black hats that looked a bit like the flying saucers in the B science fiction movies. The only difference is that the hats were black and the flying saucers were grey. Since I have blond hair and blue eyes, the cops probably figured that I was not one of the demonstrators. Finally, after walking forever, I ended up on the opposite side of the US Capital and was directed through a small nondescript entrance to the US Capital.
I entered and had to put all my stuff through x-ray scanner and then had to walk through a metal detector. I told the officers that I wanted to get a tripod permit. I was told to wait to the side until they could find someone who could escort me to the security office. While standing there, a tall gentleman in a suit came rushing in and said he was expected at a meeting with the 'Speaker'. The guard told him that the Capitol was officially closed for the day and that he would need an escort and directed him to stand near me. After a few minutes, a uniformed officer came. The security people decided that the officer was to take the gentleman in the suit to the 'Speakers' offices and then take me to the security office. I remember that we rode up in an ancient elevator that wasn't much larger that a telephone booth (if you remember what a telephone booth was). It would probably stand four adults and not many more than that. I went with them into a large suite and there was a hubbub of activity. We dropped off the gentleman in the suit and I went with the officer back down the elevator, he could see my eyes as big as saucers. As we were going down the elevator to the security office in the basement (where else would they have the security office in the US Capital?), I asked the cop if we had just been in the Speaker of the House of Representatives and the cop smiled and said yes it was. All I could say was "Wow". At the time Newt Gingrich was the Speaker. What a tale for any future grandchildren that was! I now could truthfully say that the last time I went to Washington DC, I was personally escorted to the Speaker of the House of Representatives! Not too many people can say they were personally escorted to the Speaker's office.
Down in the basement, I was asked to provide a driver's license and fill out a form. I was then asked to sit on a bench in the wide hallway. I waited quite a while. I assume they were busy checking with the FBI, CIA, NSA, and every law enforcement agency in the country to make sure I could be trusted with a tripod. I was then asked whether I wanted a permit for the House side or the Senate side. Being a country bumpkin from Southern California, I asked what the difference was. What I was told was the someone with a lot of clout in either the House or Senate (I forget which) had a big issue with photographers taking pictures around the US Capital. I told them I wasn't going to be picky, so I told them that I was willing to stick to the side of the US Capital that didn't have a big issue with people taking photographs using a tripod. I also learned that there are two concrete circular slabs outside the US Capital and that the news media is only allowed to photograph the US Capital from those spots. One spot is on the House side and the other is on the Senate side. If you pay attention to television news you will discover that all the shots of the US Capital come from those two positions. My tripod permit allowed me to roam anywhere on the one side I was allowed to roam.
The cop who had been escorting me through the Capital also escorted me out. He gave me the docent tour providing me with the history of the Capital building himself. I remember him showing me a metal geodetic survey marker in the center of the rotunda of the US Capital. He told me that it marked the geographic center of Washington DC when it was originally laid out. It was a great personal tour of the US Capital that I will never forget. This cop proved to be the antithesis of the cop who first harassed me about using a tripod. I am forever grateful for this officer. He turned what had started out as an extremely negative experience into an experience of a lifetime.
As a coda, I returned to the US Capital the next day with my official tripod permit in hand. I was ready to rub it in the face of any Capital police officer who questioned my taking pictures using a tripod. Not a peep. No one came out to challenge me and I never saw anyone in a police uniform. I remember when I was growing up, one of may favorite cartoon shows was Rocky and Bullwinkle. At the end of the serial episodes that featured those evil but inept spies Boris and Natasha, the announcer would say something like 'Be with us for the next exciting episode of blah, blah, blah, OR bleck, bleck, bleck. To paraphrase the announcer: This has been the story of my life in crime OR How I almost got busted by the US Capital police.