In a word, surreal. While former designated survivors can’t share all of the details of their high-security sequester, some interesting nuggets of information have surfaced.
Individuals learn that they’ve been selected as the designated survivor a few weeks before the State of the Union. Sworn to secrecy, they then receive some kind of undisclosed special training that prepares them for the remote possibility of stepping into the president’s shoes. "They walked you through the White House and showed you the Situation Room and talked seriously about the responsibility of the designated survivor," former Health and Human Services Secretary Donna Shalala, who was tapped by Bill Clinton in 1996, told ABC News in 2014.
On the night of the State of the Union Address, the designated survivor is usually whisked away by a Secret Service detail, along with the “Football,” the 45-pound briefcase containing the top-secret launch codes for America’s nuclear arsenal. Typically, the designated survivor is flown to an undisclosed location where he or she watches the State of the Union broadcast in the company of stone-faced Secret Service agents, usually with a good meal thrown in.
In 1986, Ronald Reagan's agricultural secretary, John Block, rode out the event in a friend's Jamaican villa. In 2000, Clinton's energy secretary, Bill Richardson, enjoyed a roast beef dinner at a home on Maryland's Eastern Shore. Shalala, bucking the trend, said she camped in the White House, eating pizza with staff. Clinton had told her before he left for the Capitol, "'Don't do anything I wouldn't do,'" she told ABC News. "I went to the Oval Office and for one minute sat in the president's chair."
In 1997, former Secretary of Agriculture Dan Glickman asked to be flown to New York City so he could watch the address in his daughter’s apartment. After the broadcast, which they watched alongside Secret Service agents and a military officer with the “Football,” the security detail told Glickman "the mission is terminated" and offered him a flight back to D.C. Instead, he took his daughter out for Japanese food, noting the irony that a few hours after serving as a fail-safe for the leader of the free world, he couldn't get a cab in the rain.