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The President was due to arrive at the camp at 11:45 a.m. We all went fishing, after agreeing to return by 11. I fished with Joe Dodge, who is an old friend, but my heart wasn't in fishing for once. I caught one trout. It was five and a half inches long. I returned it to the waters of the Dead Diamond and said to Joe, "Let's get back to the camp."
We got back ahead of time. So did almost everyone else. John Dickey's fishing party was completed by the arrival of President Emeritus Ernest Hopkins and Laurence Whittemore, of the Brown Company.
We were getting nervous. Sid Hay-ward started his charcoal fire for broiling the trout. We kept looking down the road. Paul Dougherty, the game warden, turned on the radio in his car. He was in touch with the President's party.
"They're in Errol right now!" Paul reported.
Suddenly someone sighted the famous golden eagle, who perennially roosts on a tall dead pine on Diamond Peak, within full view of the Management Center. John Dickey lifted his binoculars. A golden eagle for the President! It was a momentous, symbolic stroke of luck! The eagle soared wondrously in the mile-high thermals—and casually disappeared. We all groaned. In the eagle's place came a dense rain cloud. It started to sprinkle and we moved to carry stuff in out of the wet. It stopped sprinkling.
"They're at the Gate Camp!" someone reported.
We all looked down the road. Some Secret Service men appeared silently. They were young, suntanned, well-dressed, well mannered and extremely capable looking. I thought I could see extra bits of leather attached to their belts, and I knew this leather would lead to a holster and a gun.
We looked down the road all the time and suddenly someone said, "Here they come!"
First there was a string of black cars full of game wardens and state police, and then another big black car, and after that—with other cars bringing up the rear—came the President. His car stopped right beside us. He got out and shook hands with President Dickey, and President Dickey began introducing him. I shook hands with him. He looked absolutely fine, younger than in all the pictures I'd seen of him. He was dressed in a tan suit, hat, green tie and white shirt with French cuffs.
John Dickey was helping him into a white mess jacket with the Dartmouth emblem in green. The President was having trouble getting his French cuffs through the sleeves of the mess jacket.