Oh Yeah - Tea at Buckingham Palace

When Cardiogirl sent me the Classy Blog Award, she mentioned my visit to Buckingham Palace. I should back up a bit to explain. When I was around Bryce's age, my parents visited England. At that same time, I had to do a major report in school focusing on another country and I selected England. Ever since, I have been an intense Anglophile (indeed, if I had found a British boyfriend, I would have moved there). 

In college, I spent a summer studying at Oxford. Alas, the summer went by all too quickly and I started hatching more plans to return. I found an organization called BUNAC, an acronym I can't even remember (Britain Undercover, Neatly After College????), which allowed me a six-month student visa and offered to help me find a job. I forewent their job placement and made contacts myself through The Salvation Army (since my parents are Salvation Army officers). There are so many blog posts crying to get out of my brain right now, I feel like I have multiple-personality-disorder. Ah - yes... the target: tea at Buckingham Palace. 

I secured a wonderful domestic position at The Salvation Army's International College for Officers. Then, I sought the nearest Salvation Army corps to attend on Sundays. One of my first Sundays at the Upper Norwood Corps, a young man named Ray, approached me. He was in the band and I play an instrument, so we conversed easily. In ending our conversation, he asked if I would like to come to his place for tea some day. I agreed and walked away. Several others pulled me aside and asked if I knew where "his place" was. Of course, I had no idea! I think I may have said, "Should I? Is it in a bad part of town???" 

It turns out, Ray was the Queen's butler and lived at, none other than, Buckingham Palace. To be honest, we didn't meet for tea at the palace right away - perhaps he felt he had to screen me?? After all, I came from Chicago - perhaps I was in a gang??? We met at a Pizza Hut and discussed a younger girl he had a crush on. However, he asked again and explained that I would have to fill out some paperwork (here comes the screening - I had to pass a security check to be allowed in the palace - this was back in 1987 before they started giving tours). I remember that when the construction workers (who were doing some work at the college) discovered I was going to the palace for tea, they were miffed. They said, "Flippin' Ay, I lived ere' me ole' life an' I ain't neveh been to Bug House." 

Well, the day finally arrived. I appeared at the side door as instructed and gave them my name. They produced a badge with my name on it (I wonder if they still have that old thing on file there after all these years, or do they purge visitors who only bothered to come once?) and then paged Ray (or should I say, "paged the page" since his actual title was "Page of the Presence."). He escorted me to his rooms. Basically, I saw lengthy hallways in the basement (no regal chambers) and I think I remember a stack of paintings up against a wall in the hall. 

His room was a real thrill, though. On his bed, he had a bedspread dating from Queen Victoria's reign. This meant a lot to me, since I was interested in Victorian British literature. Ray had accompanied the Queen on various tours around the world, and the walls were covered with posters and maps from these tours. What a privilege to have had such a rare opportunity! 

How grateful I am that during my time in London, I could rub shoulders with real British people. I didn't want to spend my time as a tourist (especially an American tourist - you can spot one of those a mile... or a kilometer... away!). I wanted to live among them. To pretend, for a time, that I belonged with them. Thankfully, I met many people like Sarah at http://www.ilsters.blogspot.com/, who allowed me to feel that sense of belonging and became a lifelong friend as well. 

As for Ray, well, I received one royal Christmas card bearing his seal, "Page of the Presence," and a postcard or two from ski-jaunts in Switzerland or France. Then, in 1990, shortly before my wedding, I returned to Britain for a Salvation Army Congress and ran into him on one of the tube platforms. Oh, the voices in my head are crying to be heard. Haven't heard a word from him in 18 years. Still, privileged to have met him and visited the palace, though!