Bart watched nervously from the passenger seat as their ragtag convoy of vehicles made its way towards the county courthouse.
"Relax," Mike McGarry told him as he turned the big SUV to follow the one in front of him.
"Relax?" Bart demanded. "You expect me to relax? I could only get my superiors to authorize another two agents to be out here today. This is a security nightmare. We've got the Secretary of State, a senator, a member of the House of Representatives, the lieutenant governor of New Hampshire, the governor of South Carolina, Penny Ziegler, and the infamous Charlie Young coming here today."
"Not to mention the former First Lady," Abigail Bartlet reminded him from her position in the back seat.
"Yes, ma'am" he replied blushing slightly at having leaving his protectee out of his recitation.
"We're going to have plenty of friends there," Mike assured him.
"What do you know that we don't, Michael?" Abby demanded.
"The Chief called me last night," Mike told them. "She put the word around."
"She?" Bart asked. "I thought Dwayne Carter was Chief of DCPD."
"Chief Martinez," Mike told him as he turned the corner into the town square. "She retired last year." The sight that greeted them took Bart's breath away. A large contingent of skinheads had shown up to make trouble, but they had anticipated that happening. There were almost as many reporters as there were white supremacists. What so surprised the usually unflappable Secret Service agent though was the fact that the skinheads and reporters were outnumbered by perhaps three to one by men and women wearing black windbreakers with yellow lettering on the back. Yellow lettering that read things like 'DCPD', 'Secret Service', and 'FBI'. "They couldn't order extra agents out here," Mike told him with a grin. "But neither your superiors nor mine have any say about what their people do on their personal time. Charlie's mom was a DC police officer. We take care of our own."
"Let's go," Abby told the young men as her door was opened by one of the agents who had formed a protective ring around the vehicles. They were quickly joined by the rest of the extended Bartlet clan.
"Chief Martinez," Toby greeted the older woman who approached him flanked by several others. "I thought you'd retired?" he asked with a smile.
"Mr. Ziegler," she returned his greeting. "I figured I'd come out here for old-times sake. See if this will be as entertaining as 'Big Block of Cheese Day' was."
"Rhonda," CJ greeted the other woman who had briefly been her rival. After their meeting on 'Total Crackpot Day' Toby had briefly dated then Officer Sachs, but it hadn't taken Rhonda long to realize that Toby was in love with CJ even if he wouldn't acknowledge those feelings. Unlike Andi Wyatt, Rhonda had been able to let her romantic feelings for Toby die so that their friendship could flourish. It had been Rhonda who pushed Toby to tell CJ that he loved her. A fact that had made the two women fast friends instead of the bitter enemies that most people had expected. "How is Hector?" she asked.
"Enjoying early retirement," Rhonda told her. "We're planning a trip out to California next month to visit our youngest at Berkeley."
"She's working on her Masters?" Donna asked as she walked with the other women into the court house. Once inside, there was really nothing for most of the family to do but wait. Charlie, Toby, and the other lawyers were quickly processing the paperwork that would set the lawsuit in motion. Last night it had been decided that Toby would make a statement on behalf of the SPLC concerning the lawsuit, and Josh would make a statement on behalf of the Bartlet clan about the WVWP and the family's feelings and involvement in the suit.
When they exited the building the agents and off-duty police officers still held the crowd back from the courthouse steps where the everyone gathered behind Toby as he made his statement. It took Toby fifteen minutes to answer the questions thrown at him by the reporters before Josh could step forward to make his own statement to the press.
"First, I have to apologize to my speechwriters. I'm going to pull a Bartlet on them and ad lib," Josh said in a loud clear voice that could be heard over the shouted chants of the skinheads. "I am not officially part of this lawsuit. I am here to support the members of my family who are. There is no secret that we have personal reasons in wanting this group brought to justice. All our lives were changed forever more than three decades ago when members of the West Virginia White Pride opened fire on the President's entourage. They shot at us not because they didn't like how we were running the country or because of a law we'd passed or failed to pass. They shot at us because Zoey Bartlet was dating Charlie Young. Two teenagers were in love, and for that West Virginia White Pride decided they had to die." Josh paused as the flashes from various cameras blinded him.
"Last night as we prepared to come here this morning, Toby Ziegler told me of a conversation he'd had with my son, Noah, earlier this week. Noah told Toby of his first memory. It is a day I remember as well. I remember my son sitting on my lap as he traced the scars from the shooting in Rosslyn. Noah was probably four at the time. He asked me how I'd gotten those scars, and I told him," Josh said as he felt Donna's hand slip into his own. Behind them Kate had taken Noah's hand in her own, and he squeezed it gratefully as a single tear slipped down his cheek. "I sat their explaining to my young son, my struggle to live because members of the West Virginia White Pride had shot me in the chest while trying to kill his Aunt Zoey and Uncle Charlie for being in love. As Toby recounted what my son had told him, I remembered my own earliest memory that was so strikingly similar to my son's. My first memory is of sitting on my own grandfather's lap tracing not scars but a tattoo. My first memory is of asking my grandfather what the numbers on his arm meant."
Josh paused to collect his thoughts. Drawing strength from his family arrayed around him, he continued, "Little more than a week ago, my wife, Donnatella, and I became grandparents for the first time. During his conversation with Toby, my son asked what his nephew's first memory would be. Would it be like his own? Like my own? Would his first memory be of the hate of racism or anti-Semitism? My family and I want to change this legacy of hate. When Jed sits on my lap and asks about the scars on my chest, what will I be able to tell him?" Josh asked. "Will I be able to tell him that things are better now? I don't know the answer to that question yet, but we are taking the first step to finding that answer."
"I once asked my grandfather why he thought he'd survived the camps," Josh said. "He told me, as many other survivors have since, that he survived to bear witness for those who didn't. Now, I will bear witness for Jasmine and Mark Genaro. I will bear witness for Celeste and Lauren Marcum," he said raising his voice to be heard over the screams of the enraged skinheads as he named the victims of another murder for which the West Virginia White Pride were suspected. It shocked the family that Josh knew of these other victims because he had always gone out of his way to remain ignorant of this group. "I will bear witness for Jack Baker and all the other victims of the West Virginia White Pride," he vowed before taking the steps of the court house two at a time towards the waiting vehicles. The rest of the family trailing behind.
