called my attention to the road as he offered advice about how
best to approach what would soon become my regular commute.
An
hour later, we inched into the district, bumper to bumper with at least a
hundred other cars. “We’re almost there,” Habib said encouragingly. “We made
good time.”
I
closed my binder and eyed the sea of cars pressing in on us. I stared at Habib,
mystified as to how he could appear so unaffected by such a terrifying sight.
*
* * * * *
I
hit the ground running with the first interview and was quickly sucked into a
whirlwind of office tours, people, and promises about legislation I could work
on. I scheduled all five of my interviews back to back on the same day so I
could devote more time to finding an apartment. I hadn’t thought to budget
myself any time for lunch, so I ended up eating a squished up power bar that I
discovered in the bottom of my purse when I was walking between the Dirksen and
Russell buildings. I didn’t have time to process what I learned from the
interviews or how I felt about the people I met. My head was throbbing by the
time I crawled back into Habib’s cab.
As
soon as I returned to my hotel room, I peeled my sticky clothes off and took a
lukewarm shower. I slipped into a black camisole and a pair of pink cotton
shorts before popping some liquid Advil and sprawling out on top of the king
size bed.
When
the throbbing in my head subsided, I let my thoughts drift over the day’s
events. I liked both senators from Montana, but I was already familiar with
aging and health policy initiatives in Montana. If I chose a senator from
another state, I might be able to identify some new initiatives that would prove
useful in Montana.
I
was admittedly star struck by Senator Kennedy and even more so by Splash, the
rambunctious black dog who crashed our interview with a bright yellow tennis
ball tucked inside his mouth. But, as tempted as I was to work with Splash, I felt
drawn to Senator Rockefeller and his staff. Their passion for helping
vulnerable populations was nearly tangible. I couldn’t stop thinking about the
framed quote from Hubert Humphrey that I discovered in the senator’s office:
The
moral test of government is how it treats those who are in the dawn of life . .
. the children; those who are in the twilight of life . . . the elderly; and
those who are in the shadow of life . . . the sick . . . the needy . . . and
the disabled.
It
was the most compelling quote I’d ever read. Senator Rockefeller represented a
rural state, he held a powerful position on the Senate Finance Committee, he
was highly respected, and he was clearly committed to serving vulnerable
populations. Yes , I thought, if I’m going to walk away from
everything I know and love, then Senator Rockefeller is the one I want to work
for .
As I rolled the idea of working for
Senator Rockefeller over in my mind, an overwhelming sense of peace settled
over me. Suddenly, everything about my decision and the fellowship felt right.
*
* * * * *
Habib
picked me up at the hotel at nine o’clock the next morning. He dropped me off
at the first apartment complex and agreed to return for me in a half hour. I scribbled
my cell phone number across the back of my business card and handed it to him
as I stepped out of the cab so he could call me if he was tied up with another
customer.
The
staff in the lease office seemed completely put out by my request that I
actually see the apartment before signing the lease agreement. It didn’t
take long to figure out why. Although the apartment had been advertised as a
non-smoking unit, the place smelled like a vile mixture of mold and smoke. The
carpet was filthy, and the walls were so grimy I could see where all the
previous pictures had been hung. I quickly scratched that apartment off my
list.
Habib
returned for me as promised. After hearing my description of the first
apartment, he insisted on waiting for me while I inspected the second
best to approach what would soon become my regular commute.
An
hour later, we inched into the district, bumper to bumper with at least a
hundred other cars. “We’re almost there,” Habib said encouragingly. “We made
good time.”
I
closed my binder and eyed the sea of cars pressing in on us. I stared at Habib,
mystified as to how he could appear so unaffected by such a terrifying sight.
*
* * * * *
I
hit the ground running with the first interview and was quickly sucked into a
whirlwind of office tours, people, and promises about legislation I could work
on. I scheduled all five of my interviews back to back on the same day so I
could devote more time to finding an apartment. I hadn’t thought to budget
myself any time for lunch, so I ended up eating a squished up power bar that I
discovered in the bottom of my purse when I was walking between the Dirksen and
Russell buildings. I didn’t have time to process what I learned from the
interviews or how I felt about the people I met. My head was throbbing by the
time I crawled back into Habib’s cab.
As
soon as I returned to my hotel room, I peeled my sticky clothes off and took a
lukewarm shower. I slipped into a black camisole and a pair of pink cotton
shorts before popping some liquid Advil and sprawling out on top of the king
size bed.
When
the throbbing in my head subsided, I let my thoughts drift over the day’s
events. I liked both senators from Montana, but I was already familiar with
aging and health policy initiatives in Montana. If I chose a senator from
another state, I might be able to identify some new initiatives that would prove
useful in Montana.
I
was admittedly star struck by Senator Kennedy and even more so by Splash, the
rambunctious black dog who crashed our interview with a bright yellow tennis
ball tucked inside his mouth. But, as tempted as I was to work with Splash, I felt
drawn to Senator Rockefeller and his staff. Their passion for helping
vulnerable populations was nearly tangible. I couldn’t stop thinking about the
framed quote from Hubert Humphrey that I discovered in the senator’s office:
The
moral test of government is how it treats those who are in the dawn of life . .
. the children; those who are in the twilight of life . . . the elderly; and
those who are in the shadow of life . . . the sick . . . the needy . . . and
the disabled.
It
was the most compelling quote I’d ever read. Senator Rockefeller represented a
rural state, he held a powerful position on the Senate Finance Committee, he
was highly respected, and he was clearly committed to serving vulnerable
populations. Yes , I thought, if I’m going to walk away from
everything I know and love, then Senator Rockefeller is the one I want to work
for .
As I rolled the idea of working for
Senator Rockefeller over in my mind, an overwhelming sense of peace settled
over me. Suddenly, everything about my decision and the fellowship felt right.
*
* * * * *
Habib
picked me up at the hotel at nine o’clock the next morning. He dropped me off
at the first apartment complex and agreed to return for me in a half hour. I scribbled
my cell phone number across the back of my business card and handed it to him
as I stepped out of the cab so he could call me if he was tied up with another
customer.
The
staff in the lease office seemed completely put out by my request that I
actually see the apartment before signing the lease agreement. It didn’t
take long to figure out why. Although the apartment had been advertised as a
non-smoking unit, the place smelled like a vile mixture of mold and smoke. The
carpet was filthy, and the walls were so grimy I could see where all the
previous pictures had been hung. I quickly scratched that apartment off my
list.
Habib
returned for me as promised. After hearing my description of the first
apartment, he insisted on waiting for me while I inspected the second
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