Traveling America, One Presidential Trip At A Time

It’s been a long-time goal of mine to visit all 50 states.

A few years back, my mom gave me a scratch-off map for Christmas as a way to track where I’d already been. By then, I’d already racked up a good number.

During college, my dad and I did a road trip from New York, where I’m from, to California, where I had an internship that summer. That helped me cross off a lot of states. We got a flat tire in Missouri. I got pulled over in Oklahoma. More tire problems in Texas. We got lunch in New Mexico and hit the town in Scottsdale, Arizona. After college, family travel helped cross off Alaska and Washington.

For a while I was on a roll. Then adulthood hit.

Time gets shorter. Money doesn’t stretch as far. My cross-country adventures slowed to a crawl.

Then President Trump took office. That came with it something I didn’t expect: new states.

Last Friday, I flew to Maine with the Vice President. A few weeks earlier I went to Nevada with Trump. In the fall, I joined Vance in Mississippi, and in July, I kicked off America’s 250th year with Trump at the Iowa State Fair.

All four were states I’d never visited. The last four stamps on my map have come from presidential travel. What a strange and wonderful thing.

These trips are insulated by nature. In Maine, we never left the airport. Everything I saw of the state was through an airplane window, slow and low, with the airspace cleared out around us. No diner, no main street, no small talk with locals.

But what I do get to see are the people of each state.

In Mississippi, the motorcade wound for 45 minutes through the state before reaching Ole Miss. People lined the streets, one hand holding up a phone and the other waving furiously. At one point, I watched a car veer into a driveway up on a hill. The driver jumped out and started waving both arms as we sped by. That could likely be the closest that man, or any of these people, get to a vice president of the United States.

When we showed up in Nevada, some attendees told me they found they waited in a long entrance line, not for a photo with the President of the United States, but with hopes of asking a question about their personal financial situation. Real concerns. Real people.

In Iowa, the fair was mostly shut down for the president’s appearance, but the crowd didn’t notice. Hundreds filled the outdoor arena, and they kept filling it throughout his speech. A few spotted us in the press pool and pulled us aside, genuinely curious about what it’s like to be around the president that often.

Maine was the most memorable. The crowd was alive in a way I hadn’t quite seen before. They wanted a conversation, and Vance gave them one.

He joked with people as they reacted to his remarks, answered questions shouted from the crowd, and let the whole thing breathe.

One rally goer kept holding up a book, presumably his own, trying to get the VP to notice it.

Another shot their hand straight up when Vance mentioned recruiting new people to run for office.

Coming back from Nevada, we flew over Delaware and Maryland. From high in the sky, I could make out the coastline I recognize from my map. It was something, even from that distance, to trace the outline of America. The boats docked along the coast. Farms were below. Cars pulled into driveways.

When we touched down last Friday, the Vice President quickly deplaned, waved to the press and walked with a member of the Air Force who escorted Vance to Marine Two. The Vice President struck up a conversation with the airman, just as he had when the day began.

He saluted the Marines as he boarded onto the helicopter. Then they walked with their perfect cadence to close the aircraft doors and see him off.

I’ve seen this process dozens of times with the President on the South Lawn – a process marked by precision and respect.

This past trip, for whatever reason, hit differently. The reporters around me felt it too. We remarked about it to one another without quite knowing why.

These trips have given me a lot of time to think about this country, especially with Memorial Day on my mind. On the days when politics, and Washington D.C. specifically, feels darkest, these trips feel like the light. Every detail is curated to the President’s liking, but one thing no advance team can script is how Americans show up. I always leave inspired, even when no words are exchanged.

I always leave inspired by the hope and optimism I witness, even if there are never words exchanged.

America is beautiful. She is good and true.

At every state I visit, I’m reminded why I got into this job. I wanted to play some part in something larger. I pray this work makes some impact.

But even if it never did, I am grateful. For the men and women who have sacrificed for this nation. They gave me the ability to write freely and travel with the President without an ounce of worry. They have kept us the greatest power in the world, so that we can enjoy our BBQs and fireworks, debate policy, and live out our dreams.

I see our armed forces in every state I visit. And that is why I love seeing America.

AUTHOR

Reagan Reese

White House Correspondent

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