Leslie Taylor

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There would be no great display of love for President George Bush last Thursday afternoon by the out-of-towners who were flying into Nashville International Airport or attempting to reach their Music City destination from the airport by car.

No, it was more great displays of Bush-bashing, fueled not by his clinging to the war in Iraq or any other voter-rankling act, but by flight delays and traffic gridlock.

Bush was in Nashville last week to discuss his budget priorities and visit a small Middle Tennessee bun factory that sells English muffins to clients such as Pepperidge Farm and McDonald's.

Nashville was in an appropriate tizzy. Tennessee, after all, is a solid red state, home of is-he/is-he-not a Republican presidential candidate Fred Thompson. So the red carpet, in this red state, was very graciously rolled out. Not a war protester in sight. Television coverage gushed "Bush's visit thrills bun company employees."

But for a group of women who'd traveled to the city from other parts -- Roanoke, Washington, D.C., Los Angeles, Boston, Newark, Chicago, New Orleans, Seattle -- for a conference, Bush's visit did not sit so well.

You see, when the president flies into town on Air Force One, the airport goes into lockdown; nothing in, nothing out.

But divert a flight already delayed by bad weather to the next-closest airport because the commander in chief has landed at your intended point of arrival and grumbling will ensue. Or prevent a weary airline passenger who has disembarked from leaving the airport grounds, and anger will brew and bubble over.

As was the case in Nashville on this Thursday afternoon. And oooooh, the language that spewed from the mouths of these otherwise refined women.

Oh, they understood the protocol and procedure required to ensure the president's safe travels. They understood full well the tight security that is necessary for such an individual.

But when the comings and goings of a president, particularly one with abysmally low approval ratings, interferes with the comings and goings of the ordinary citizen, well, choice words tend to fly about. The president's got some explaining to do, the women insisted.

So on behalf of Mr. Bush, some explanation:

Under normal procedure, the U.S. Secret Service and U.S. Air Force request that an airport's control tower clear airspace when Air Force One is on approach. Typically, that is 20 miles out on final approach and 20 miles out after takeoff. Once the plane is on the ground or back in the air at an appropriate distance, the airport returns to normal operations.

When Bush breezed into Roanoke Regional Airport on Air Force One in 2001, bound for the National D-Day Memorial dedication in Bedford, there was, in fact, a brief closure of airspace, though nothing that severely affected airport activity.

But last Thursday in Nashville, tighter measures were requested, apparently. No landings and takeoffs were permitted for an extended period of time, according to several travelers. One woman's flight, running low on fuel while circling the airport waiting for landing clearance, was diverted to Knoxville. Several women, trying to reach their hotel from the airport by rental car, were prohibited from leaving airport grounds.

The U.S. Secret Service, as one would expect, declined to say much.

"We try to be as least intrusive as possible," said Darrin Blackford, a Secret Service spokesman. "We do not want to disrupt, but folks must understand we have a job to do."

End of conversation.

Cathy Holland, a spokeswoman for the Metropolitan Nashville Airport Authority, said several people who knew Bush would be in town, called to get some guidance on travel plans.

She unfortunately neglected to heed her own advice.

Heading back to the airport from a meeting, Holland got caught in traffic on the interstate, snarled because the president's motorcade was moving through.

She laughed; she's accustomed to such inconveniences, minor in her mind.

Then-Vice President Al Gore, a son of Tennessee, "came in and out quite a bit," Holland said.

How did the good folks of Nashville manage? "You follow guidelines and adjust your travel plans accordingly," she said.

Taylor is a member of The Roanoke Times editorial board.