: lunch, plus an outing of his choice. The outing would satisfy Walter’s craving for stimulation and adventure, and lunch, I hoped, would facilitate some quality conversation.I figured Walter would opt for a trip to one of Washington’s museums, but despite a couple of reminders, weeks passed without a plan. He abruptly announced his intention on a father-daughter phone call with my partner:
But was it possible? Could we actually just show up to the federal courthouse and sit in on an explosive trial? I had to verify whether this was a gift I could deliver.None of the courthouse staff I spoke to could guarantee that the trial would be open to the public—this decision was up to the judge—but one was “pretty sure.” That was good enough for Walter. We were on.I wondered what it would be like. Walter and I had enjoyed a warm relationship since our first meeting four years prior.
After we cleared security—Walter first, then me—I was looking for a courthouse map or someone to ask for directions to Courtroom 24 when I noticed that Walter had already shuffled over to the elevators. I followed him in. As the doors closed, I experienced the dreamlike sensation of being in an elevator with absolutely no idea which floor I wanted to go to. We exited on a random floor, and I jogged around, checking the placards outside each courtroom. Wrong floor, we learned the hard way.
The thing about lunch is, eventually you’re going to want some. I didn’t want unanticipated hunger to spoil our adventure—my gift. So before leaving the house, I’d stuffed my winter coat with a diverse selection of protein bars.We ate our bars on a bench in a wide carpeted hallway, watching lawyers, clients, and clerks pass to and fro and commenting on what we’d seen during our brief stint in the viewing room. It felt like halftime.“I’m at the federal district courthouse with Ian. … Great.