A Man from Another Land: How Finding My Roots Changed My Life (22 page)

“Lassa fever! Oh my God. What the hell is that? Andre!” I said, turning to Dr. Panossian. He asked Sonya what hospital Adisa
was in and proceeded to make a call. My head started to spin. “This is not good. What do I do? I can’t cancel these meetings
today. Think! What do I do?”

I made a general announcement to the team about my former sound designer, Adisa Jones. “Dr. Panossian is on the phone right
now with Daniel Freeman Memorial Hospital,” I said. “We have a man down, but we will take the scheduled meetings as planned.
This is for Sierra Leone. Adisa loves the children there. He would want us to press on.”

With that, I instructed the team to gather their things. We
were going to Capitol Hill. I gave Sonya a number to call. “Sonya, get Clinton’s office on the phone,” I said. “Ask for Jay
Carson or Eric Nonacs. Tell them about Adisa.” Gonzalo put a microphone on me then I grabbed my suit coat and headed out the
door. I was a very determined man. Adisa’s illness gave me even further incentive to make my trip to Sierra Leone mean something.
Our three black SUVs rolled down Pennsylvania Avenue in the same single-file formation we used in Sierra Leone. I sat in the
front seat blasting “Crazy.”

I couldn’t believe what had happened to Adisa. I thought about seeing him not long before in Los Angeles. When we talked,
he told me how happy he was about what we accomplished together in Sierra Leone. He teased me about my “No Media Liability”
speeches while we were there. We were both at the same fund-raiser for Tiffany Persons and her Shine On Sierra Leone Foundation.
I was invited because I had donated $5,000 to the organization. I remembered saying to him that he looked great but commented
that he was sweating profusely. “Sweatin’ is good for the skin, my brother!” He smiled his trademark smile highlighted by
his manicured and trimmed mustache and then he happily walked away. That was the last time I had seen him.

“Lassa fever? How did he get that?” I wondered.

We pulled up in front of our destination, the United States Capitol building. As we proceeded through security, I looked up
and immediately saw the
Apotheosis of Washington
painted by Constantino Brumidi in 1865. I literally had to catch my breath. It was the first time I had stood in the Rotunda.
Even the most cynical and apolitical person would have to agree that the Capitol Rotunda is one of the most serene, powerful,
and beautiful places in the world.

Crispian tugged at my arm. “I know,” he said, “but we gotta keep it moving.”

Our first meeting was in the House of Representatives. I was
scheduled to meet with Congressman Tom Tancredo. Together, he and I watched in its entirety the one-hour video presentation
I brought. Los Angeles–based filmmaker Abdul Malik Abbott and I had worked together editing forty-three hours of footage from
my trip to Sierra Leone into a one-hour presentation. We had worked on it for twenty-four hours straight without any sleep.
I am extremely grateful to Abdul for his commitment to my project as well as to Congressman Tancredo, who was kind and generous
with very good suggestions about whom I should reach out to in Colorado regarding getting aid for Sierra Leone.

The next stop was Congressman Kevin Brady’s office. Congressman Brady was his usual affable self. I introduced him to the
team as we all gathered around the huge mahogany table in his conference room. Congressman Brady sat attentively as he watched
my one-hour video presentation. Noticing the University of Texas T-shirt that I wore in one of the scenes, he said, “I recognize
that school T-shirt. It looks good on you.” We all laughed.

“Isaiah,” he said, “do you know about the Norman Borlaug Institute for International Agriculture over at Texas A&M?” I didn’t.
“Well, those guys over there run a great organization,” he explained. “They are doing some great things around the world.
I think you need to get to know them. They do a lot of good in Africa.” He asked how soon I could get to Houston and agreed
to set something up. “I really like what you are doing with your celebrity. We need more like you,” he said.

The next meeting was to be with Congressman Donald Payne, chairman of the House Committee on Foreign Affairs Subcommittee
on Africa and Global Health. His staff director Noelle LuSane greeted us and told us that the congressman would be with us
shortly. While we waited, Congresswoman Barbara Lee walked in and introduced herself. She informed us that she too shared
ancestry with the people of Sierra Leone and
had also taken the DNA test by African Ancestry. “I’m Mende!” she announced proudly.

“Wow, that’s amazing!” I responded. “It’s my pleasure to meet you.”

Just then, Congressman Payne walked out of his office and jokingly asked, “Who’s creating all this commotion out here? Ohhh,
you must be that guy from that TV show that my staff keeps talking about. Well, come on in, they all want to take a picture
with you.”

Several women ran into his office, buzzing around us. Congressman Payne said, “Man, you’re better than an American Express
card, I need to take you out with me.” After we took a photo together, he invited me to sit down.

Congresswoman Lee joined us and later Congressman William Jefferson stepped in and sat on the arm of Congressman Payne’s huge
leather chair. I explained what I had seen in Sierra Leone and why I thought it was important to have Americans, especially
African Americans, engage and invest in the betterment of the country.

After we watched the video, Congressman Payne told me that the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation could be of service.
He thanked me for my passion and interest in Africa and stated that he wished he could see more African American celebrities
involved in the issues of Africa.

I looked over my shoulder at Crispian, and he pointed at his watch. I stood up and thanked Congresswoman Lee and Congressmen
Payne and Jefferson for their time and headed out the door. Because our meeting with Congressman Payne had run long, Crispian
rescheduled Congressman John Conyers Jr.

We went speedily down the hall to Congressman Carnahan’s office. As I waited, something caught my eye. It was a photograph
of A. S. J. Carnahan, Congressman Russ Carnahan’s grandfather. A. S. J. Carnahan was appointed as the first American
ambassador to the Republic of Sierra Leone in 1961 by President John F. Kennedy. A.S.J. retired his post in 1963.

I had a copy of a letter in my binder that was written to President Harry S. Truman citing what needed to be done to strengthen
Sierra Leone. Congressman Carnahan had a framed copy of the very same letter on his wall! It was chilling. I was so transfixed
by the framed letter that I barely heard the congressman come in. “You familiar with my grandfather?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered, turning to see him standing there, “very much so. I have a copy of your grandfather’s letter in my binder.
I’m using it as the blueprint for what I am trying to do to help Sierra Leone.”

“How fortuitous,” he said. Crispian walked in and apologized for cutting our meeting short, but he told the congressman that
we were running behind schedule and had to get over to the Senate building. “Hopefully we can meet again when there is more
time,” I said, shaking the congressman’s hand. Crispian and I took a subway that delivered us to the Senate side of the Capitol,
where our first meeting was with Senator Arlen Specter. Upon arriving we were told the senator was on the floor voting. The
senator’s staff director offered to take me to the Senate floor. I was thrilled. While we waited, I grabbed Dr. Panossian
and went out into the hallway. “Okay, what do we know about Adisa?”

“I called the hospital and talked to a Dr. Yoo, a specialist in tropical diseases. He said that they have run tests. Adisa
is hemorrhaging internally. Dr. Yoo says that it appears like it is Lassa fever, but it’s inconclusive until they receive
the tests from the CDC.”

I could feel my blood pressure rising and started to feel hot. “Okay,” I said to Dr. Panossian, “do you know anyone in the
CDC? We need to get Adisa’s test fast-tracked.” Sonya came out and
said that she had spoken to Eric Nonacs and that he told her that the only antidote for Lassa fever is a medicine called Ribavirin.

“Great,” I said, “Where do we get it?”

“According to Eric,” she continued “it’s only available on military installations.”

“This is Adisa’s life we are talking about,” I said. I felt deeply responsible for delivering him to and from Sierra Leone
safely. “Now I’m responsible for trying to save his life. Get Eric Nonacs on the phone.” Sonya dialed Eric’s number. In the
meantime, I called Bill Clinton’s assistant. I knew this was a risk, it was a big call, you don’t just call the office of
a former president of the United States of America and casually ask for a favor, but this was Adisa, and I felt he was worth
it.

The phone rang a few times. “It’s Isaiah,” I said when his assistant answered. “Is the big man around? I have a serious problem.”
I could feel him tense up over the phone.

“Really? What kind of problem?”

“Well, I have a man down. He was my soundman while I was in Sierra Leone and he has fallen ill. He’s in Los Angeles at the
Daniel Freeman Memorial Hospital. They think he has Lassa fever.”

I told him that Eric had explained that the antidote could be acquired only on a military installation. “I was wondering if
President Clinton could help us out with this,” I said. He explained that Clinton was in a meeting but gave me the number
of his personal physician. “He may be able to help you. Call him,” he said.

I called and spoke briefly with the President’s doctor. The good doctor explained to me that he was in the middle of a family
emergency and was not available to engage. I thanked him for his time and wished him well. Just as I hung up, Senator Specter’s
staff director walked over and said, “Are you ready?”

“Yes, of course,” I said, “let’s go.”

We walked through the Hart Building on our way to the Senate floor. As we passed the office of Senator Barack H. Obama I stopped
and thought for a minute. Ashley Tate-Gilmore, whom I had met at the Correspondents’ Dinner, was going to try to facilitate
a meeting with the senator that day. I figured it didn’t hurt to pop my head in. I walked in and introduced myself to the
receptionist. “May I help you?” she asked, looking at me quizzically. I could tell by the look on her face that she didn’t
have a clue who I was.

“Yes, my name is Isaiah Washington,” I told her. “I was wondering if Senator Barack Obama was in.”

Sonya stuck her head in the door and chimed, “Come on, mister, we are on a tight schedule, remember?”

“Hey I just want to meet the man. I’m a fan.”

“He’s on the Senate floor voting. Let’s go!”

I took one of his business cards, thanked the receptionist, and left.

We continued on our way. It was a long walk through the bowels of the Senate. The heels of our shoes clicked on the marble
floor and echoed quietly down the corridor. When we finally arrived, the security guards made us turn off our cameras. Senator
Specter’s staff director said, “Wait here a minute, I will see if I can get Senator Obama over to meet you.”

“He’s here?” I said. I was excited to meet the man, the African American man people were saying was the future forty-fourth
president of the United States.

Within minutes Senator Barack Obama walked through the huge doors and said, “Hey, man, I’ve heard a lot about you. What are
you doing on the Hill?”

I shook his hand and said, “Hill Harper speaks highly of you.” Hill and I had done
Get on the Bus
together and he had told me about his experience with Senator Obama.

He said, “Hill’s a great guy.”

The senator smelled of cigarettes. I found myself thinking, “Oh my God, this guy is killing himself! Please, God, don’t let
anything happen to this man. We need him.”

He asked if I had a card. “I’m here to raise awareness about the plight of the people in Sierra Leone,” I said, and told him
my story.

“That’s good; Africa needs a lot of help. Keep up the good work. I’ll see you at the crossroads. Hey, look, I gotta get back
on the floor. I’m trying to get this Voting Rights Act signed. See you around.”

With that, Senator Obama disappeared through the huge wooden doors leading to the Senate floor. “That was cool,” said Sonya.
I had no time to process meeting Barack Obama, because just then Senator Specter walked over and I introduced myself. The
staff director gestured for all of us to sit at a nearby table. I gave the senator my spiel. He nodded and said, “Well, you
seem to have vision and passion for Sierra Leone, young man.” He asked if we had any current information on the country he
could look at.

“No, sir,” I said, but I offered to leave him the video of our trip. The senator smiled, saying, “I see you came prepared.”

“Yes, sir, and with what I’ve discovered in my research about Pennsylvania and its connection to reform and Africa, I’m surprised
that you are not a Democrat.”

Senator Specter laughed a good while and said, “Oh no, I’m going to be a Republican for a long time.” We finished up our meeting
and headed off to the next meeting on our schedule, Senator Tom Coburn.

Senator Coburn’s staff director was waiting in the hallway for us. He told us that the senator was on the Senate floor where
we had just come from. Our little group did a U-turn and headed back to the Senate floor. We met Senator Coburn in a corridor
just outside it. Since the senator was an MD, I suggested that
Dr. Panossian lead the discussion. The two doctors discussed the horrible medical conditions in Sierra Leone in hushed voices
while I stood pressed against the corridor’s wall listening to Senator Obama as he eloquently debated the Republicans over
the twenty-five-year extension for the National Voting Rights Act of 1965. I kept thinking, “I feel like Forrest Gump right
now.” Just like Tom Hanks’s character in the movie, I was having one amazing experience after the next. I was just following
my heart as Forrest did in the movie, and it was leading me to some extraordinary places. Here I was standing outside the
door of the United States Senate, listening to Barack Obama debate a vital piece of legislation. Instead of an official meeting,
I met him on the Senate floor—working! Life was suddenly moving at lightning speed.