An Afternoon With Gail Gentes
As I timidly approached the President’s House, walking up the long drive to the house nestled between a patch of trees, the first thing I noticed was that the house has two mailboxes. To the left of the wreath-clad door is a wooden box marked “Hinman,” and to the right, an identical box marked “Mail.” If being exempt from the ordeal of waiting in the Hinman line for packages doesn’t qualify as true presidential treatment, then I don’t know what does.