President Obama Visited Rancho Santa Fe

When I left my house on Columbus Day for the usual 8am drive to work, the last thing I expected to see on Bing Crosby Blvd in Rancho Santa Fe, were three policemen decked head to toe in kevlar padding and armed with automatic rifles. From the number of brake-lights flashing in front of me as the commandos came into sight, I’d wager seeing armed guards crop up in a relatively quiet neighborhood is a universally shocking experience. If anyone living in The Crosby, a gated Rancho Santa Fe community off of Del Dios Highway, doubted that President Obama had chosen our golf course for his day off, this made it very clear.

To those who knew what to look for, the signs that the president was in The Crosby were apparent long before the officers came into sight. Secret service agents were strategically parked along Bing Crosby Blvd. While the stereotypical large black SUVs with Washington DC plates were visible and filled with agents dressed in the standard black suit attire, the real giveaway were the "undercover" agents who began showing up earlier in the weekend. 

I use the word "undercover" loosely because the agents stood out to any residents paying attention. Perhaps in another neighborhood, two full grown men sitting in a nondescript parked sedan with out-of-state plates would be unremarkable, but it felt out of place for a gated community. If you looked a little closer you could see that these men—staring at various intersections for an hour or more—had thin white wires spiraling from their ears down the back of their necks.

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So when new arrivals in kevlar with rifles stationed themselves underneath the lush green trees near the first hole of the golf course, residents gave them a wide berth. In fact, many of the early-morning commuters did exactly what I did: we waited until we were a few blocks away, pulled off of the main road, and immediately called our families. While many family members—like my father—probably encouraged those of us nearby to try to take pictures, nobody went back. We all knew the president was in our community, but we had more important things to do than harass men gripping automatic weapons for a photograph.

By the time 10am rolled around, President Obama had disappeared deeper into the golf course, and the men with guns had gone with him. Without the foreboding image of armed officers standing guard, residents of The Crosby became emboldened to cross Bing Crosby Blvd and look down at the course below. A large crowd of residents lined the bridge, chatting in nervous anticipation about the president. Neighbors who barely knew each other found themselves bonding over this unlikely event. Total strangers realized they lived next door to each other, that they had a lot in common. In this moment, a quiet community came together. There was a universal feeling of hope that President Obama would come into view, nervousness that he would bypass the crowd somehow, and even amazement over our luck that President Obama had chosen The Crosby.

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Because, in truth, we were lucky. If you drove through the gates and out into a neighboring community, you could see people sitting in their driveways hoping to catch a glimpse of the president as the motorcade left. People camped out in lawn chairs, waiting for hours on the off chance that maybe he would use the nearby gate to exit The Crosby. Various news crews were parked across the street, hoping to experience even a moment of the excitement we could see inside. So many enthusiastic supporters and well-wishers were kept out by the gates. The general consensus was true: we were lucky.

But there was another undercurrent of emotion, one we all felt but did not talk about. As the president drew closer to where we stood watching, more security forces in kevlar appeared. These men only had handguns instead of rifles, and for that reason they were not shy about integrating themselves into the crowd. Though everyone was polite and welcoming, we all kept our distance. While no one I spoke to expressed outright discomfort at having these men so near, you could catch residents occasionally glancing over at them with wary looks. Their presence was meant to ensure President Obama’s safety, but they almost acted as a deterrent that quelled some of the excitement of our quiet community.

Yet everyone stayed until President Obama finally came into view. Residents had been catching glimpses of him throughout the day from the balconies or backyards near the golf course. In general, the president smiled, waved, and shouted a quick hello before secret service ushered him along. His appearances were always brief, but the joyous, high-pitched excitement you could hear from those who saw him illustrated that he was worth the wait.

As the motorcade filed out around midday with over twenty traffic-stopping vehicles, everyone waved goodbye and returned home content. We had seen firsthand a window into the president’s world; into his personality and his security. Though perhaps, President Obama didn’t stay as long as we wanted. In his brief visit, he somehow managed to bring a quiet and secluded community closer together.