Hot Dogs

Hot Dogs

Colin Powell

One of my favorite things to do is simply to walk along Park Avenue in my hometown, New York, on a beautiful spring or fall afternoon.  On my walk, I always stop at the corner of a numbered cross street, where a Sabrett hot dog cart manned by an immigrant will always be stationed.  I love those hot dogs, affectionately known to New Yorkers as "dirty water dogs" because they sit in a pot of near-boiling water.

I always must have one of them, adorned with mustard and that unique red onion relish I've only found in New York.  It takes me back to my youth, when they only cost ten cents.

I even found time for it when I was Secretary of State.  I would come out of my suite at the Waldorf-Astoria and stroll north up Park Avenue or perhaps over on Fifth Avenue.  In those days, I was surrounded by bodyguards, and there were usually a couple of New York City police cruisers rolling alongside to keep me from being whacked as I walked.  With my entourage, I would walk up to the nearest hot dog peddler and order my hot dog.  One poor guy, put off by the attention and all the police and guards, immediately stopped preparing my hot dog, thrust his hands up, and shouted, "I've got a green card, I've got a green card!"  I assured him all was well and this was all about me, not about him.

I still have to have a hot dog on my walk, but all the bodyguards and police cars are gone, as is the Waldorf suite.  Shortly after leaving State, I went up to a hot dog stand on Fifth Avenue and ordered my standard fare.  As the attendant was finishing up my hot dog, a look of recognition came across his face, but he struggled to pull up my name.  "I know you," he said, "I see you on television."  Then, as he handed me the hot dog, it hit him.  "Ah, yes, of course, you're General Powell."  I handed him the money, but he refused to take it.  "No, General, no, you don't owe me anything.  I've been paid.  America paid me.  I will never forget where I came from, but now I am here, I am an American.  I've been given a new life, and so have my children.  Thank you, please enjoy the hot dog."

I thanked him and continued up the avenue, feeling a warm glow as the recognition came over me once again.  What a country... still the same country that gave my immigrant parents the open door and welcome ninety years ago.  We must never forget that has been our past; it is certainly our present and future.