Published: July 06, 2008 12:56 am            

WOLCOTT: Life’s lessons keep coming, despite the fact that the old dog has trouble learning new tricks. My latest lesson came at the nation’s capital last Thursday.A hiccup in the passport line puts life in perspective

Life’s lessons keep coming, despite the fact that the old dog has trouble learning new tricks. My latest lesson came at the nation’s capital last Thursday.

We couldn’t come up with Heather’s passport two days before she was to start graduate studies in Rome. We all looked. We all shared the blame.

It was Wednesday and every politician from Hillary on up was called. There was one cure. For a quick passport, we were advised to go to Boston, Norwalk, Conn., New York City, Philadelphia or Washington, D.C. — all about 450 miles away.

Our first choice was Norwalk, figuring it would be easier to get in and out of a smaller city. The Connecticut town on Long Island Sound was booked, however. Boston and Philadelphia had no openings. Driving into New York City gives me the hebbie jeebies. D.C. had an opening at 8 a.m. Thursday.

We started at 10 p.m. June 25, after frantically copying every document my daughter had. Map quest was strange. Go to Washington, D.C. NW and travel down Route 79 through Pittsburgh on the Interstates. Go to Washington, D.C. NE and travel down Route 15.

Miles-wise, Route 15 was closer and there should be no hang-up at Harrisburg. Route 219 was more interesting, but it’s easier to get lost in the hills.

Route 15 was dandy, never better. We didn’t even see a sign of the Pennsylvania State capital at 3 a.m. The GPS guided us on the beltway and right into the D.C. There were several turns, but no hang-ups and we got to 1111 19th St. at 6 a.m. Thursday. Heather and I were too anxious to be tired. Career plans, graduate school plans and thousands of dollars seemed to be at risk, and there was no guarantee.

Heather talked to caring political staffs Wednesday, but some critical stuff was handled by answering machines.

We were able to park across the street, getting a “Park before 7 a.m. deal,” cleaned up and went to the passport place 20 minutes early. The line was already out the door.

We were about 30th in the queue with more coming behind us. Lo and behold, the security was friendly, and the system was efficient.

I was a little annoyed, however, at the woman ahead of us who didn’t have her forms filled out when she got to the window. She was a little disheveled and holding up the parade. She was sent to another counter to complete her paperwork. I thought of all the forms Heather filled out the night before in a near frenzy.

The woman wound up at Window 5, the window next to ours. She was denied a passport. Her birth certificate didn’t have a raised seal.

“My son is dying in Germany,” she said. “I have a 3:30 flight.”

A quiet USAF Tech Sergeant was standing next to her. I hadn’t taken note of him before. I then guessed that her son was wounded in Iraq or Afghanistan and taken to a hospital in Germany. I was upset with myself. What is grad school and money compared to a son’s life?

The mother, calm to this point, got emotional. The tech sergeant made a call. “We’ve got a hiccup,” he told someone.

Heather was approved and we came back to the passport place at to pick up her new passport at 11:30 a.m. and daughter was joyful. Both of us were appreciative, but felt a bit sheepish on the long drive home. We don’t know if the serviceman’s mom got her passport to see her son.

Contact reporter Bill Wolcott

at 439-9222, ext. 6246.

        

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