There is an interesting story behind the photo on this sticker.
To get this photo, I went to the Crawford Ranch in Texas. I didn't know if Bush was at the ranch, but I figured the odds were about 50/50. I explained to the guard that I was the official Bush vacation photographer. He asked for my credentials and I showed him my driver's license and a backstage pass to a Dixie Chicks concert. I had bought the pass on eBay, but I didn't tell the guard that. Then he saw my camera and tripod on the seat and opened the gate. Maybe it was my cowboy hat that did the trick.
After that, everyone pretty much just assumed that I belonged in the compound. I parked near the shooting range which, I noticed, was roped off with police tape. This worried me a little.
But it turned out everything was OK. I found the guys in the pool hall. Bush, Rumsfeld and Cheney were goofing off, trying to see who could balance the most balls on their faces. The key to the trick seemed to be holding one ball in your mouth while squinting to hold two more balls in your eye sockets.
They didn't notice I was there at first. They staggered about the room, leaning back, their faces upturned and laden with the heavy balls. Then as Bush managed to balance a fourth ball on the other three already on his face, Rumsfeld noticed me and straightened up at once. His balls clattered to the floor noisily. He was obviously embarrassed. Bush and Cheney sensed that something was wrong and also stood up. The three men stood staring at me. Each one had a different color pool ball lodged in his mouth.
"I'm the photographer," I said, as if they should be expecting me.
This caused a little panic I think. They all turned their backs to me quickly, fearing perhaps that I might snap a picture of them looking ridiculous. I heard groaning and grunting as each man struggled mightily to dislodge a pool ball from his mouth.
"Don't strain yourself boys," I said, unzipping my camera bag. "I'd like to get a shot of this. Let's show the people their leaders have some real balls."
I don't know if this caused laughter or panic. Whatever it was, it caused all three men to spit their balls out in unison. I was too late to get the shot.
After the men tucked in their shirts, wiped the drool off their faces, and patted their hair a bit, they turned to me and shook my hand, as if nothing odd had happened.
I then explained that I was there to take the vacation photographs. Bush said he thought he had done that last week, when a different photographer had been at the ranch. I said that the media department felt there had been too many photos at the ranch. I wanted to get some shots of the boys in a tropical setting to show that America cared about Latin America.
"So where are we going?" asked Bush.
"Cuba," I said.
"You mean the 53rd state?" said Rummy.
"Fifty-third?" I asked.
"After we add Iraq and Afghanistan, it will be the 53rd," said Rummy. The boys thought this was mighty funny. I just smiled. After they stopped laughing, I told them if we left right away, we could be back in time for dinner.
So we hustled out to the chopper and headed to the airport. Then we were off in Air Force One. We had a pleasant lunch onboard, during which the boys showed me how to play table hockey with an ice cube.
When we got to Guantanamo, the guards peeked in the window of our limo, and then waved us through the gate without any questions. It was almost as if they were expecting the boys.
Cheney asked me why we were entering the prison compound. I said it was the only place we could take photos on the island and be truly secure. Plus, these photos were meant to highlight the American military presence in Latin America. He seemed to buy it.
When we got out of the car, I had the boys change into their orange jumpsuits, which I had brought along. My wife had sewn the name-tags on the suits. Bush asked me why he had to put "this funny orange outfit" on. I said I wanted the shot to look festive, as if we were celebrating the waning days of the Castro regime. There was some grumbling about changing clothes outdoors, while guards and caged prisoners looked on. But I told them I thought the guards and prisoners could handle it. "They've seen worse," I said. But even I was not prepared for the little turtles on Bush's boxer shorts. The turtles caused a lot of snickering among the prisoners. Do they have turtles in Afghanistan?
After we took a few shots, Bush said he needed to pee. Rummy and Cheney said they needed to go too. So they went into the new administrative building while I waited outside. They were in there a really long time. I think maybe they had trouble with the jumpsuits, or maybe the guards hassled them a bit. I don't know. But I finally got tired of waiting. I asked the limo driver to take me back to the airport.
You don't realize how big Air Force One is until you fly in it as the only passenger. I got pretty good at table hockey on the way home.
Dan R. Frazier
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