A few years ago, my father, Nathaniel R. Jones, aka “The Good Judge,” came to DC with two of his colleagues, John Pepper and Michael Cioffi, for a meeting with Vice President Joe Biden. I don’t recall what the meeting was about, but they were to meet at Biden’s residence at the Naval Observatory in northwest DC.
That afternoon, The Good Judge called me from the airport as they were about to head back to Cincinnati. I asked him how the meeting went. “It was fine,” he said. “I have to go. They’re closing the door. I’ll talk to you tonight.” When we talked later that evening, he didn’t say any more about the meeting.
That afternoon, The Good Judge called me from the airport as they were about to head back to Cincinnati. I asked him how the meeting went. “It was fine,” he said. “I have to go. They’re closing the door. I’ll talk to you tonight.” When we talked later that evening, he didn’t say any more about the meeting.
About a month later, I was in his office and saw a new photo on the shelf – The Good Judge, Michael and John, standing next to a limousine in front of the entrance to the West Wing.
“Daddy – When was this picture taken?”
“Last month”
“You went to the White House last month?”
“Yes. That was the day we met with Biden.”
“But didn’t you meet with him at the Naval Observatory?”
“Yes. But then he gave us a ride to the White House.”
Huh?
And he told me the story …
After their meeting, The Good Judge, John and Michael prepared to head back to the airport. The Vice President asked them how they were getting there. “We’ll get a cab.”
“It’ll take you forever to get a cab around here this time of day,” the Vice President scoffed. “I’m on my way to work. I’ll give you a ride and you can get a cab from the White House.”
So, they went outside to where the Vice President’s motorcade was lined up. Assuming they’d ride in one of the vans, The Good Judge headed toward the back of the lineup.
“Hey, Judge!” Biden called out. “You guys hop in with me.”
With that, The Good Judge and his companions climbed into the vice presidential limo with Biden and off they went, zooming down Connecticut Avenue, zipping through red lights, police cars and motorcycles with lights and sirens at full blast.
Biden chatted away happily like it was no big deal, as if he were driving some friends to the store in the family sedan. Every now and then, he waved at people on the street, but he stayed focused on the conversation in the car.
A few minutes later, the caravan was whisked through the White House gates and stopped in front of the entrance to the West Wing across from the Executive Office Building. Biden apologized for leaving them: “I gotta run to a meeting – but you should be able to get a cab on 17th with no problem.”
With that, the Vice President said goodbye, sprinted out of the limo, trotted toward the White House and disappeared into the building.
The Good Judge turned to Michael and John and said, “No one is going to believe this.” They all shook their heads, laughing for a few seconds, and then got out of the limo, headed out the gates to 17th Street where, just as Biden had promised, they easily caught a cab to the airport.
But first, they posed for this picture in the driveway outside of the West Wing to prove this all really did happen.
I’ve always loved this story as yet another example of the improbable, wonderful life Lillian Rafe’s keen-eyed son led – and how he never made a big deal about it.
But this story also says an awful lot about our nominee and (please please please) next President of the United States, a man who is so quick to say, “C’mon guys. Let me make it easier for you to get where you’re going. Ride with me.”