Love Story: The Whitehouse Notebook

They say "love" never fails; but "time" does.... The butler sees a new White House Now retired, he started when blacks were in the kitchen. By Wil Haygood November 7, 2008 Reporting from Washington -- For more than three decades, Eugene Allen worked in the White House, a black man unknown to the headlines. During some of those years, harsh segregation laws lay upon the land. He trekked home every night to his wife, Helene, who kept him out of her kitchen. At the White House, he worked closer to the dirty dishes than to the Oval Office. Helene didn't care; she just beamed with pride. President Truman called him Gene. President Ford liked to talk golf with six days a week. "I never missed a day of work," Allen said. He was there while racial history was made: Brown vs. Board of Education, the Little Rock school crisis, the 1963 March on Washington, the cities burning, the civil rights bills, the assassinations. When he started at the White House in 1952, he couldn't even use the public restrooms when he ventured back to his native Virginia. "We had never had anything," Allen, 89, recalled of black America at the time. "I was always hoping things would get better." In its long history, the White House -- note the name -- has had a complex and vexing relationship with black Americans. "The history is not so uneven at the lower level, in the kitchen," said Ted Sorensen, who served as counselor to President Kennedy. "In the kitchen, the folks have always been black. Even the folks at the door -- black." Before Gene Allen landed his White House job, he worked as a waiter at a resort in Hot Springs, Va., and then at a country club in Washington. He and wife Helene, 86, were sitting in the living room of their Washington home. Her voice was musical, in a Lena Horne kind of way. She called him "Honey." They met at a birthday party in 1942. He was too shy to ask for her number, so she tracked his down. They married a year later. In 1952, a lady told him of a job opening in the White House. "I wasn't even looking for a job," he said. "I was happy where I was working, but she told me to go on over there and meet with a guy by the name of Alonzo Fields." Fields was a maitre d', and he immediately liked Allen. Allen was offered a job as a "pantry man." He washed dishes, stocked cabinets and shined silverware. He started at $2,400 a year. There was, in time, a promotion to butler. "Shook the hand of all the presidents I ever worked for," he said. "I was there, honey," Helene said. "In the back maybe. But I shook their hands too." She was referring to White House holiday parties, Easter egg hunts. They have one son, Charles, who works as an investigator with the State Department. "President Ford's birthday and my birthday were on the same day," he said. "He'd have a birthday party at the White House. Everybody would be there. And Mrs. Ford would say, 'It's Gene's birthday too!' " And so they'd sing a little ditty to the butler. And the butler, who wore a tuxedo to work every day, would blush. "Jack Kennedy was very nice" he went on. "And so was Mrs. Kennedy." He was in the White House kitchen the day Kennedy was slain. He got an invitation to the funeral. But he volunteered for other duty: "Somebody had to be at the White House to serve everyone after they came from the funeral." The whole family of President Carter made Helene chuckle: "They were country. And I'm talking Lillian and Rosalynn both." It came out as the highest compliment. First Lady Nancy Reagan came looking for him in the kitchen one day. She wanted to remind him about the upcoming state dinner for German Chancellor Helmut Kohl. She told him he would not be working that night." She said, 'You and Helene are coming to the state dinner as guests of President Reagan and myself.' I'm telling you! I believe I'm the only butler to get invited to a state dinner." Husbands and wives don't sit together at these events, and Helene was nervous about trying to make small talk with world leaders." And my son said, 'Momma, just talk about your high school. They won't know the difference.'"The senators were all talking about the colleges and universities that they went to," she said. "I was doing as much talking as they were. "Had champagne that night," she said, looking over at her husband. He just grinned: He was the man who stacked the champagne at the White House. Colin L. Powell would become the highest ranking black of any White House to that point when he was named Reagan's national security advisor in 1987. Condoleezza Rice would have that position under President George W. Bush. Gene Allen was promoted to maitre d' in 1980. He left the White House in 1986, after 34 years. President Reagan wrote him a sweet note. Nancy Reagan hugged him tight. Interviewed at their home last week, Gene and Helene speculated about what it would mean if a black man were elected president. "Just imagine," she said. "It'd be really something," he said. "We're pretty much past the going-out stage," she said. "But you never know. If he gets in there, it'd sure be nice to go over there again." They talked about praying to help Barack Obama get to the White House. They'd go vote together. She'd lean on her cane with one hand, and him with the other, while walking down to the precinct. And she'd get supper going afterward. They went over their Election Day plans more than once. "Imagine," she said. "That's right," he said. On Monday, Helene had a doctor's appointment. Gene woke and nudged her once, then again. He shuffled around to her side of the bed. He nudged Helene again. He was all alone. "I woke up and my wife didn't," he said later. Some friends and family members rushed over. He wanted to make coffee. They had to shoo the butler out of the kitchen. The lady he married 65 years ago will be buried today. The butler cast his vote for Obama on Tuesday. He so missed telling his Helene about the black man bound for the Oval Office. Haygood writes for the Washington Post.

The POWER of Touch

It is used to communicate and to transfer. Entire conversations of touch can occur in a split second without one uttered word. Everything around us is related by touch in some fashion. I am a hand-washing fanatic. By the time you shake a hand or take your money out, there's no telling what all you have touched. You would probably be terrified to know. Luckily, my last touch was all good. Thanks, Pickle honey! I had a full body massage last night that was great. Good job, Bendy!

The science of touch...Studies have been done with newborn babies; half loved and held, the other neglected other than bare necessities. Babies can thrive without sight, without smell, even without hearing. But they cannot thrive without being touched. You may not be familiar with this next term. I wasn't; only it's symptoms and theories. ...skin hunger... Skin hunger is something that happens to people who have lost loved ones...people with few family or friends...people who are ill or who suffer from poor vision, reduced hearing, or dementia, such as Alzheimer's. People who because of disability and changed circumstances are too discouraged, or are simply unable to reach out for what they need.


So basic a human need is touch that neither children nor adults can live without it. Children who live in abusive homes and who are deprived of touch, have been known to wither and die. The need for touch is real, and persists throughout our lives. Indeed, as we approach old age, touching and being touched takes on added importance; it compensates for the decline in other sensory perceptions, and helps us stay connected with our environment.


Touch tells us we're safe, cared for and have value. People who are sure of a warm embrace are happier, more alert, more willing and able to communicate. ...more...


Touch somebody's life today in a good way. Leave a sensation that will magnify the beautifulness of living and increase.

Subtly New Again

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It's funny how the slightest changes can have monumental effects. Obviously I am preoccupied with home-selling; but the real-life correlations are impossible to miss. New paint here, new floor there, tighten this, losen that, get rid of those. I think my wife said it best; so I will just repeat it:

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"We are going for curb appeal.
Putting on our best show as we get ready to sell.
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It is funny how close selling a house is to courting.
Flowers are blush, lip gloss and eye shadow
Mulch is eyeliner, mascara, lip liner.
Pruning your shrubs and trees is like getting a great hair cut
Keeping your grass even is like putting on foundation.
Clean windows and doors, like putting in eye drops and brushing your teeth.
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And then come the blind dates.
People who your real estate "dating broker" matches you up with.

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Needless-to-say, things are getting hot and heavy. She is almost ready for her blind dates. I am hoping for short engagement and swiftly marrying it off. It's been good and I am sure that I will miss the ole girl and all the hard work invested. But life goes on. My neighbor and I chatted yesterday as we rode bicycles around the block in the warm beautiful day. He wanted to know what was going on? I told him that new floors were being installed. So I noted how much weight he had lost so quickly; to which he responded that he had quit drinking...not that I am saying you shouldn't but you can't live on it - you can die though. He apparantly had not been drinking very much water. Again, a slight change has had huge effects. He also helped his daughter move out into her very first apartment. We agreed it was good. We agreed it was bad. We agreed that both were necessary. When life happens; so does change. How we embrace that change can fill us with love or alarm; that's the power of our choice. Since nothing is guaranteed; in case of the xfactor; we are making everything like we would like it...no short cuts or el cheepy corner cutting. If I didn't love the destination so much, I would be ready to stay.

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Our new future...."if the Lord be willin' and the creek don't rise..."

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The Glorious Sun

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Who can see beneath our bones? My skeleton gleems in the southern hospitality of the sun, kissed and tanned. What skeleton can hide without its skin?

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The sun is absolutely radiant in downtown Nashville. I have opened the blinds and watched the light chase away the shadows. Its fun and thought-provoking to watch the shadows sulk away to the corners and edges of things...very interesting patterns and shapes come to life. I spent some time remembering my little doggie this morning. Remembering her little bouncy ears coming around the corner with that big smile or her oingy boingy bounce when I said her magic word for milk bone dog bisquits. All good memories. Memories are grand but not big enough to overcome presence or the lack thereof. Hmmm...


My sweetie and I planted a boat load of flowers over the weekend. We watered them yesterday afternoon before going to the gym. It was a warm day at 86 degrees and today seems much the same. I even took time to water them this morning in expectation of today's warmth. I am looking forward to seeing a yard of beautiful living color swaying in the evening breeze when I drive home. It's nice doing things together...even better to watch them grow and change and mature in a healthy manner. It's fun to get down in the dirt and transform the earth...its good for what ails a man, I suppose. Certain that I have now been branded the "metro-sexual" on the block or "who knows," I don't care. If that mattered to me, I suppose I would have taken a poll first.



Now we are looking for some "artsy" yard art that will really set the place apart...you know, kinda whimsical but landmark! I saw this one house once that had this cool flying saucer sculpture in the front yard with some groovy colorings and markings on it. That would really get some passersby. I look forward to our hunt of such oddities. Something that just creates a happy conversation piece or at least gets noticed.

Hmmm....State Troopers were everywhere this morning on the drive in. Seems most mornings my speedometer spends more time horizonal than verticle; but luckily no blue light specials for me. It's always better to see it happen to somebody else. (tee hee hee; no really) Ok...one quick funny from my friend Joel...

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Will You Go With Me

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His voice comes across the air with a definitive maleness. It's much deeper than one might expect from such a boyish appearance; but quality is quality and he's got it. Josh Turner. My drive into the city was almost slow but still enjoyable. Riding in my convertible bug, zooming between cars and 18 wheelers, this song drove me into the past. I thought about all the great stories and fascinating places, peoples and experiences I have had just because "she went with me." As she will attest; I don't usually know where I am going; but we always end up there. I am not a fan of maps unless I am pressed by time or gas. I have an eighth sense that gets me to places; even if my destination is nowhere. That's pretty cool. Here are just a few of the words...

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Would You Go With Me
~~~ Josh Turner ~~~
Would you go with me if we rolled down streets of fire
Would you hold on to me tighter as the summer sun got higher
If we roll from town to town and never shut it down
Would you go with me if we were lost in fields of clover
Would we walk even closer until the trip was over
And would it be okay if I didn't know the way ...more

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Life is a funny thing; like dry sand on a beach. If you squeeze it too tight, you lose more of it. If you add water, it sticks together. If you share it with friends, it is a lot of fun. You can use life to make great things or be greatly annoying [sand is somebody else's shorts; that's annoying]. You get to choose. You don't always get to chose love; typically it chooses you. You get to chose to hang 10 or wipe out.


I arrive today, like most, thankful. I watched Deal or No Deal last night to see this Asian family who came to this country with $750 and now their son was about to win $750,000. The son, in his wisdom, only wanted enough for a great honeymon and family. He made a deal because of his instincts instead of being greedy. Ironicly, he/they grew up in a trailer park and he learned English from watch country music videos. Of course, he is a great fan and good at Kareoke and clogging [that was a nice dose of culture shock profiling for me]. Either way, it cannot be argued that they started out with very little. Through their joy and hard work; they have accomplished much. The mother and father had been together for many years and gone through much together. Destiny repaid their faithfulness. I am certain that coming to a strange country with only $750 would strain any relationship. What I like about this story is the LACK of moaning, complaining, blaming, excuse-oriented, I deserve mentality that westerners so easily fall into. Somewhere in their story is the secret to happiness beyond circumstances. That's what I want to be guilty of.

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