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JOHN R. TEEVAN III
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The State of the State of the Union

The State of the Union was today. Thousands of people – nationwide – worldwide – turned on their TVs to watch the speech. Every year the most important day in the House Chamber was when the President made his annual address to Congress. The Vice President was there. The Senate Majority Leader, the Secretary of State, the Speaker of the House – they all took their seats to watch – to listen to – the President as he laid out his agenda for the next year.

The State of the Union is the only day when the public cannot walk in and attend a session of Congress. Every seat is taken, and security is at a record high. Two houses of Congress try to squeeze into a chamber that only fits one house of Congress. Space is limited, so only important, high-level government officials get invited. The President went through more agony when deciding who to send invitations to for his State of the Union than he did when deciding who to invite to his wedding.

Speaking of the President, here he comes. The moment we’ve all been waiting for. The President approached the podium. All 435 Congressmen and 100 Senators and cabinet members were immediately silent. Nobody would interrupt the President of the United States of America. Not a Governor. Not a policeman. Not a Senator. Even the flies went silent. There were hundreds of cell phones in that room – some Senators had three cell phones each – but every single cell phone was turned off. Nothing would interrupt the President’s speech. The President opened his mouth to begin his address.

“Rang! Rang! Rang!” The fire alarm went off.

The President looked for the Sergeant-at-Arms, in charge of securing the House chamber.

“Where is the Sergeant-at-Arms?” the President called out.

A man emerged from the crowd.

“What the hell is going on?” the President demanded.

“Mr. President, it appears that we’ve violated the fire code. Our room is over capacity. This chamber was meant to fit enough people to host the House of Representatives – not the House of Representatives and the Senate and the cabinet and photographers and the press and – ”

“But what the hell do we do about it?”

“It will take a while for maintenance to find out exactly which fire alarm was pulled. In the meantime, the building could be on fire. For our safety – for our government – for our nation – for our people – we must protect the lives of the important leaders in this room. We need to evacuate the Capitol. It is a fire alarm, after all, and that’s what you do when the fire alarm goes off. You exit the building.”

The Director of the Secret Service was on his radio, desperately communicating with his officers with panic in his eyes. The President looked at him and asked, “Will we have enough security for all of our most important government officials to all be outside on the National Mall with god knows who else is walking around on that public lawn?”

“It would be safer if we went out the way we came in. Through the tunnels. That will get us far away to safety,” said the Director of the Secret Service.

“What?!” interrupted the Sergeant-at-Arms. “Send our nation’s most important leaders down deeper into a burning building?! That’s absurd! We should follow the emergency exit signs and exit the building to get away from the fire.”

The fire alarm was still piercing with a high-pitched sound so annoying that the President finally said, “Let’s get outta here. This noise is hurting my ears. Ladies and gentlemen, please exit the building. We will reconvene on the National Mall. It’s stuffy in here and we could all use some fresh air.”

“But Mr. President!” objected the Director of the Secret Service.

“I’m the President,” he reminded. “I preside over everyone in this room – everyone in this nation. My decision is that we will follow the established procedures for a fire drill instead of go deeper into a building that could be on fire. Your job, as Director of the Secret Service, is to secure the premises. And I advise that you do it soon because we’re leaving now.”

The Director of the Secret Service looked like he was going to have a stroke or shit his pants or have a heart attack – or all three at the same time. Every significant member of the government was going to be on the National Mall – the lawn outdoors that was open to the public – in just a few moments. It would be any anarchist’s dream. One sniper hidden in the Washington Monument opens fire and America falls into chaos. The President is dead.

But the Constitution provides a back-up. If the President, the Vice President, the Speaker of the House, the President pro tempore of the Senate – all standing next to each other on the National Mall, outdoors in public – if something happens and they all get wiped out, the laws of succession protect us. They tell us who will be our leader and prevent power struggles in a crisis that would be chaotic enough.

The Secret Service had planned for this scenario with succession in mind. Before the speech, the cabinet members drew straws and one of them was sent to Seattle, far away from Washington, DC in case a nuclear missile wiped out the entire speech’s attendance.

The only person in line for succession who wasn’t in the crowd on the National Mall – the crowd that could easily be gunned down by a machine gun hanging out the window of a car passing by – the crowd that could easily be destroyed by a single bomb hidden in the grass beneath the National Mall – the only person in line for succession who wasn’t there was the Secretary of Agriculture. Can you believe it? If all hell breaks loose, the most powerful nation in the world being led by … a farmer?!

The leaders gathered in the National Mall right outside the Capitol. Ironically, they were all standing around the Garfield Monument, which honors President Garfield who was assassinated. Would the same thing happen today? Would the President be shot? Only this time with the entire cabinet, Senate and House of Representatives with him?

But alas, everything worked out. For all of the fears of anarchy and presidential assassinations, none of the fears running thorough the mind of the Director of the Secret Service were true. In fact, it turned out to be nice outdoors. Rather than the stuffy chamber, the weather outside was beautiful. The sunlight from outdoors combined with the majestic Capitol in the background resulted in many amazing photos captured by the photographers during the speech. And for the first time in the history of our nation, hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of citizens gathered to witness their very first State of the Union speech – now open to the public – because there was much more room outdoors.

So what caused the fire alarms? It wasn’t an anarchist trying to get the politicians to exit the building so they could be gunned down. It turns out that one of the fire alarms was just accidentally set off. The alarm was bumped by a curator who was removing a Confederate statue of Robert E. Lee from the Capitol Rotunda. Those things are anchored down well after many years of rust. She tugged and tugged. When the statue suddenly gave way the curator fell back and bumped the fire alarm. And then the famous Evacuation Affair started, interrupting the State of the Union Speech.

At first everyone hated the curator for having made the nation fear a government takeover and a violent assassination of the entire government. But years later everyone began to thank her. It was because of her that the State of the Union was henceforth outdoors – with enough seats so ordinary citizens could spectate. The presidential photographers took better pictures with the sunlight. The President enjoyed the fresh air that made him give better speeches.

​And the curator became a national hero for starting the tradition of hosting the State of the Union address outdoors.

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