May 26, 2014
Houston
I have had many jobs during my lifetime. I did what I could to pay the bills and to provide for my family. One of these jobs was the unlikely one of chauffeur. I was "between opportunities" at the time, and the opportunity presented itself.
The job was interesting enough, and few jobs were what one could call "routine." That was fine by me. I was never a person who relished routine or predictablity.
The most interesting job I did, however, brought interesting to an entirely new level. I was called in one afternoon to speak in private with the president of the limousine company, I walked into his office, sat down, and the door was closed behind me, and locked.
In the room were two representatives from the German Consulate-General, that was located in New Orleans at the time. I was introduced to them, and told they were looking for a driver to head a team for a special assignment. The rest of the interview was in German. I am intentionally omiting some of the details of that meeting.
Suffice it to say, I was briefed on a job which involved the transporting of a medical team. They were accompanying a person who had come from Germany for medical treatment. There was, I was told, a worldwide convention of blood specialists taking place in the city of New Orleans, and the objective of the trip here was so that the person who was about to arrive could be seen by as many blood specialists as possible, in order to obtain a diagnosis of his malady. It seemed like an act of desperation to me.
"There's something in the blood..." one of them remarked, then fell silent.
I led a team of five other chauffeurs in our finest stretch-Lincoln limousines. In single-file we made our way quickly to Moisant International Airport, where we met up with uniformed police, as well as some plainclothes gentlemen. We were escorted by the police into a special area of the airport where only special aircraft are ordinarily parked. Air Force One is parked there on visits. I even remembered the visit of French President Valéry Giscard d'Estaing's visit a decade earlier, in the Concorde. That magnifiscent supersonic transport plane had been parked on that very spot. Everywhere there were police and airport security, as well as others.
Our convoy approached a large aircraft, bathed in lights. It was a DC-10, with German registration and flag, but apart from that, there were no other markings or insignia of any kind. Next to the DC-10 was a smaller business jet, and its occupants joined the ones emerging from the DC-10.
Then an ambulance pulled in front of our parked convoy. Its door opened, and I was close enough to see that it had a vast array of technical medical equipment. We watched as a side door of the DC-10 opened to reveal that the plane was crammed with every sort of piece of medical technology known to modern medicine.
A lift truck then appeared, and its platform was hoisted up to allow a gurney to be rolled onto it.
My fellow chauffeurs were nervous and apprehensive. All at once they walked straight toward me, and one of them asked: "What's going on here?? What's this all about? It's pretty heavy duty!"
They were intimidated by the large amount of security and all the secrecy, and I was honor-bound and under express instructions to not divulge any unnecessary information to them. So I did what I do best: I turned to humor - albeit sub-rosa.
"Men, " I began, straight-faced and serious, "This is a very important assignment we are on. I must swear you all to secrecy." (Andy Griffith's TV deputy, Barney Fife would have been proud of me!)
The men all nodded.
"Yesterday there was a coup d'etat in the country of Buganda. The man you see about to be lowered down is the deposed leader, the Kabaka of Buganda. He was shot trying to flee the country. Now, nobody knows where he is - except US! (I paused for effect.) Men, if word gets back as to his whereabouts, it could mean war, and millions of lives are in the balance! You can't tell a living SOUL about what you see and do here tonight!"
They agreed, turned, and stood beside their cars at mute attention - looking just as good as any military men at parade dress. It was a magnificent sight to behold; something out of a Jason Bourne suspense movie, only this was for real!
We completed the assignment, returned to base, cleaned our cars, and went home.
___________________________________
A few years had passed. I was no longer driving cars for a living. I had just come back to town after a week-pong business trip to find that my older son was in Intensive Care at a local hospital. He had met with an unfortunate accident, and had lost a great deal of blood. I met my wife at the hospital, and she briefed me. She told me that the doctor had advised her that, unless he was in danger of dying, to not allow them to give my son a blood transfusion.
"There's something in the blood..." she said, a serious look on her face.
That made my hair stand on end. That's just what the doctor at the HOSPITAL said a few years ago!
Happily, my son pulled through, and the danger passed. He never needed a blood transfusion. The year was 1986.
To this day I wonder about what happened to that German man with the mystery illness back in 1983...
Back then, few people knew about AIDS!
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