How does one score an unescorted White House walk? Ron Bracken recalls his experience

So there I was, walking across the White House lawn, unescorted, in broad daylight.

It’s an unimaginable scene in today’s world. Even in 1987 it was out of the ordinary, but it happened. Maybe the Secret Service guys were on their lunch break or they were big Penn State football fans. At any rate, I was on the loose on some of the most heavily guarded turf north of Fort Knox and south of the Penn State football complex.

As you might expect, there’s a backstory here, and its roots were 2,000 miles away in Arizona.

That’s where on Jan. 2, Penn State beat the University of Miami, 14-10, in the Fiesta Bowl to win the national championship. It remains one of the most watched games in TV history. It’s still the highlight of a 41-year career covering Penn State football. I’ve never heard a louder noise outside than the ear-splitting roar sent into the desert night by Lion fans when Pete Giftopoulos intercepted Vinny Testaverde in the end zone with 13 seconds left to bolt down the win.

After a brutal deadline that gave the CDT staffers on hand 90 minutes to crank out as many stories as they could — for the record it was seven — we headed back home the next day.

Once we got there we were tasked with putting together a 56-page tabloid celebrating the win. Once we got that accomplished we thought we were finished with Penn State football until spring drills began. It was time to begin covering the winter sports scene.

Or so we thought. Then the phone rang on sports editor Jim Carlson’s desk informing him that Penn State’s football team had been invited to the White House by President Ronald Reagan, and being the team’s hometown paper, we were invited to accompany the team.

So early one morning we lined up behind the three team buses and headed for D.C. We stopped for breakfast at the Stop 35 truck stop near Lewistown and I can still hear linebacker Trey Bauer, one of the more outspoken Lions and one of my favorites, declare, “We win the national championship and this is what we get, Stop 35?”

After that we were back on the road and rolled into Washington around 11 a.m. I stayed tight on the tail of the third bus and when it pulled into street along side the White House, I found what I thought was a parking space and followed the team into the White House, stopping at a guard shack to sign in.

And then we were in a room in the White House along with the team. Because we were media we stood in the back of the room where we had to stand on chairs to see over the players in front of us, which was fine. We were in.

Then I noticed what must have been a Secret Service guy making his way to the podium and I figured President Reagan was about to show up.

Nope. The Secret Service guy got on the microphone and asked, “Is there a Ronald Bracken here?” Huh? I didn’t do anything wrong that I knew of. I raised my hand and he said, without smiling: “You’ll have to move your car. Now.”

To where? I had no knowledge of the layout of the streets around the White House. I had only ever been to Washington one other time and that was on my senior class trip, and I know we did more things wrong on those three days than I did that morning.

Anyway, choosing not to argue with Mr. Secret Service guy, I headed out the door and there I was, all alone on the White House lawn, walking hurriedly to my car and once I got to it, looking for a parking space. I eventually found one, which must have been legal because I didn’t hear any guns cocking. Then it was back past the empty guard shack, across the pristine lawn — unescorted again — and back into the room where, thanks to perfect timing, President Reagan was just entering. So I got to see the ceremony after all.

And when it was over, as the players were leaving the room to go to lunch, one of them said to me, “Hey Ron, did you get a parking ticket?”

No, I didn’t. But I got a great memory, one that would be impossible to duplicate today.

This story was originally published January 19, 2021 at 8:00 AM.