What It Takes
Page 129
Auughhh! It was like someone breathed air back into the Bobster. He seemed physically bigger! His tan came back! ... He got right on the phone to L Street—get Brock on the line! We need computers for the plane, and phones! ... Where’s Judy? ... We’re stayin’ in Minnesota, Tuesday night!
At L Street, this was terrible news: Dole was on the warpath! He was ruining everything! Judy Harbaugh couldn’t keep the schedule tied down long enough to send Advance out ahead of Dole. She ended up advancing in cities where
Dole never showed. Then the ancient and freckled Dixiecrat, Strom Thurmond, endorsed Dole in South Carolina—where Dole wasn’t even planning to fight—so for the next week, the only place Dole wanted to go was South Carolina.
Brock called Judy: “Is he sticking to the schedule? Don’t change it!”
“I can’t get anything put together! He’s messing with everything!”
Brock called Dole and chewed him out. Who’s running this campaign, anyway?
And that about sent Dole over the edge: Why aren’t we staying in South Dakota, or Minnesota ... on a VICTORY NIGHT? Dole said he couldn’t understand it, Keene couldn’t understand it, Devine couldn’t understand it!
Keene and Devine sent Mari home—she was too sick to do any good. Dole had someone call Riker: “Senator says, meet him in Duluth tomorrow morning!” ... They called back the young ad guys who’d done that great Dole video—Murphy and Castellanos—hired them on an emergency basis, and they cut two dozen ads in ten days, more than the Dole campaign had managed to produce the previous year. ... On the phone from the road, Dole reeled in an endorsement from Jeane Kirkpatrick. She was the soul of the Reagan revolution. She knew Dole and Bush—and she was coming out for Dole! So he called Judy Harbaugh again, ordered her to schedule him back to Washington for a big press conference. ... Meanwhile, he spent his victory night in Minneapolis.
What he did, in effect, was cut his own campaign out of the loop—made up a new one from the plane ... and not a bad one! At least, it felt like a campaign.
That’s when Keene got a call from his buddy, the columnist, the big-right-foot, Bob Novak. He was going with a piece, the next day, quoting a “high official in the Dole campaign” who said the Plane from Hell had been “hijacked” by Keene and Devine.
Well, that was trouble ...
That could only be one source ...
That could only mean ... the Big Guy ... was pissed!
Bill Brock met the plane, the night after the Minnesota and South Dakota wins. They were in Orlando. The next morning, Keene was eating breakfast in a coffee shop—Dole was speaking in the back room—when a newsmagazine photographer asked Keene:
“Mind if I get a picture of you and your Campaign Chairman?”
Keene said: “It’s all right with me if it’s okay with him.”
The photographer said: “He’s on his way over.”
Bill Brock sat down in the booth, and as the photographer was taking his picture, Brock raised a finger into Keene’s face and announced:
“I’m cutting the string. You’re finished! You’re off the campaign!”
Keene started to pfumfer through his breakfast. (He had egg on his face!) ... Don Devine wandered over, and Brock wheeled on him: “You, too! You’re fired! You’re off the payroll! And you’re off the plane in Jacksonville. You can find your own way home. And you can pay your own way home!”
Devine said: “I don’t know if I’ll get off...”
Brock said: “You’ll get off, or we’ll throw you off!”
When Dole finished his speech, and was headed to the cars, Keene sidled up: “Uh, are you aware that Don and I have just been fired?”
Dole just stared ... then he said to Keene: “I’ll talk to Brock. Don’t worry.”
But still, Dole could not pick a fight with his Big Guy. Anyway, there was no time to talk—they were on their way to Universal Studios. Dole had a photo-op! Movie stars! ... Then they were back on the Plane from Hell—just a short hop into Jacksonville, and when they landed, here came Brock, down the aisle:
“Get their stuff off the plane! Throw it off! They’re off the plane!”
Keene scurried up the aisle toward Dole. “How do you want me to handle this?”
“Aghh ... gingerly, I hope.”
“You gotta be kidding.”
So Keene gingerly told every word, every seamy bit of background, to every paper in the nation with circulation of a hundred thousand or better: if Brock and his pricey flunkies hadn’t steered Dole’s campaign into such desperate deep water, Keene never would have been on that plane! ... Meanwhile, the Big Guy could not content himself this time with Klingons peddling his response—no, he bestirred himself personally to apprise the big-feet (just on background, understand): if Dole and his humble helpers hadn’t reduced the campaign to such a mess before Bill Brock got there ... well, things would never have come to this pass. It all made delicious cud for Super Tuesday chewing, as everybody-in-the-know analyzed Dole’s desperation (the only thing upon which all sides agreed) ... an impression reinforced by Wirephotos of Dole, at Universal Studios, grinning (hegh-hegh-hegh) ... next to Frankenstein’s Monster.
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Office of the Vice President, Washington
Schedule of the Vice President
for
Asheville, North Carolina
March 5, 1988
EVENTS: Visit to Asheville Flea Market
DRESS: Men: Casual
Women: Casual
CONTACTS:
Vice President’s Advance Office
John G. Keller, Jr. 202-456-7935
Trip Coordinator
Tracy J. Spahr 202-456-7935
ADVANCE: Nancy Pilon LEAD
Tom Johnston USSS
Mike Williams WHCA
WEATHER: Mid 50’s/Chance of Showers
Contact Sheet for
Asheville, North Carolina
March 5, 1988
HOTEL: Holiday Inn West
275 Smoky Parkway Hwy
Asheville, NC 28806
705-667-4501
NAME AFFILIATION ROOM TELEPHONE
Nancy Pilon LEAD 200 704-665-1703/38
Gregg Hall Site
Ray Joiner Press
Staff Office 202 665-1703/38
FAX 665-1907
Press Line 665-2014
USSS:
Tom Johnston, Lead 684-5652
Marshall, TSD 684-4850
Command Post 684-4467
WHCA: Mike Williams Lead 684-5575
ASHEVILLE REGIONAL AIRPORT 684-6873
VP Holding Room 684-5472
Air Force II (Line 1) 684-5048
Air Force II (Line 2) Ramp Phone 684-5373
ASHEVILLE FLEA MARKET 253-1691
VP Holding Room 251-1114
Senior Staff Holding Room 251-1115
Staff Holding Room 251-1116
CELLULAR SERVICE: To reach one of the following numbers dial: 1-704-777-7626 then:
VP Chief of Staff Motorcade Car 301-520-4020
VP Chief of Staff T-8000 301-520-5891
VP Chief of Staff T-8000 (McBride) 301-520-3942
VP Mil Aide T-8000 (Menarchik) 301-520-3941
USSS Supervisor T-8000 (Johnston) 301-288-4029
WHCA Lead T-8000 (Williams) 301-520-3018
SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS FOR TRIP-SITE CELLULAR USERS:
Your cellular phone has been activated for use in the local cellular network. The local network is a nonwire-line system. Before using your cellular phone please insure that the internal program is set on scan b. A telephone credit card IS NOT required to complete long distance calls.
SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS:
To reach the White House dial: 1-202-395-2000
To dial Long Distance dial: 1 + AREA CODE + NUMBER
To reach Greensboro, N.C., S.O.: 1-919-852-4549
To reach Greensboro, N.C., R.P. dial: 1-919-854-5609
To reach Greensboro N.C., C
.P. dial: 1-919-852-0012
Schedule of the Vice President
for
Asheville, North Carolina
March 5, 1988
9:15 A.M. THE VICE PRESIDENT arrives Asheville Regional Airport, Asheville, North Carolina.
Met by:
Mr. and Mrs. Jim Bailey (Diana), GBFP Buncombe County Chairman
Mr. and Mrs. Wes Potter (Dottie)
Shana Fagan (granddaughter, 14 years old)
Mr. John Veach (Jack), GBFP Supporter
Dr. Reuben Holden (Ben), GBFP Supporter
Mrs. Katheryn Kenny (Cookie), Buncombe County Co-Chair, Women for Bush
Mrs. Ruth Brandon, Buncombe County Co-Chair, Women for Bush
9:20 A.M. THE VICE PRESIDENT boards Motorcade and departs Asheville Regional Airport en route Asheville Flea Market.
Motorcade Assignments
Lead N. Pilon
Spare Dr. Savage
LIMO THE VICE PRESIDENT
Follow up
Control C. Fuller
J. Keller
D. Menarchik
Support S. Hart
D. Valdez
T. McBride
Staff Van All Remaining Staff
Guest Van
Press Bus B. Zanca
(Drive Time: 25 Minutes)
Guest and Staff Instructions
Upon arrival at the Flea Market, Guests and Staff will be escorted to Viewing Area.
Please board Motorcade no later 10:00 A.M. for transport to Airport.
event: Visit to Flea Market
OPEN PRESS
9:45 A.M. THE VICE PRESIDENT arrives Asheville Flea Market and proceeds through Flea Market.
10:00 A.M. THE VICE PRESIDENT concludes participation in Flea Market and proceeds to Motorcade.
10:05 A.M. THE VICE PRESIDENT boards Motorcade and departs Asheville Flea Market en route to Asheville Regional Airport, Asheville, North Carolina.
NOTE: UNSCHEDULED CAMPAIGN ACTIVITY EN ROUTE = 10 MINUTES
George Bush walked through a flea market in North Carolina. Actually, he got out of his car and walked about fifty yards, shaking hands and chatting. Someone—maybe a reporter who worked his way through the Service cordon—asked him about Panama. Noriega was acting up again: canceled the elections and beat up the winners. Bush said something—his mouth moved, anyway—which sent the rest of the press running, asking: “Whadd’e say? Whadd’e say?” After a minute, one reporter announced: “Panama. Democracy will prevail.”
There were glum nods. It was shorthand. The reporters had heard the Veep’s nonanswer on Panama. Bush had nonanswers on everything. One of the reporters said, “I don’t think I’d drive three minutes to see this.” In fact, she had driven and flown a hundred thousand miles.
One woman, a flea-marketeer, brought a jar of honey for Bush to autograph. One man got his dog, Cocoa, patted. (“What’s the dog’s name?” press wanted to know.) And then it was over. ... The limo drove straight into the middle of the flea market, the Secret Service made a Gardol shield on one side, and the pod-people started shouting: “All right! Let’s get the bus! Bus! BUS! PRESS THIS WAY!”
They were mostly back on the bus when there was a sudden bustle, and someone muttered, “Ah, shit!” Bush had grabbed the microphone in his limousine and was standing on a rocker panel, in an open door. George Bush was going to talk!
His high, nasal voice filled the flea market. “I just want to thank you very much for that ...” The press was running back, six-legged, whipping out tripods and boom mikes.
“I just want to thank you very much for that warm North Carolina welcome. Thank you very much for that warm North Carolina welcome. ... And if I may be permitted, I need your vote on March 8th. ...
“And if I get it, if I do, you’ll ... you can say you went shopping with the next President of the United States!”
The limo was rolling—Bush was inside.
“Ah, shit!” The press went running again—back to the bus. The press was restive. It’d been weeks since Bush said anything.
It was three days till Super Tuesday. South Carolina would vote today. Bush had that wrapped up in ribbons—Atwater’s home state. He would win South Carolina—big. And that would be the headline, into Super Tuesday.
If nothing else happened, he was going to win. He was going to win everywhere on Super Tuesday. He was going to win it all.
George Bush had come out of the bubble for that one needy week in New Hampshire. When he won there, he dove back inside with purposeful finality, and he would never have to come out again. His Super Tuesday style made his Iowa campaign look homey and personal. Through fifteen states in twenty days, he met people he knew, or people who were picked to meet him—anybody else, he’d barely stop to shake hands. He said nothing for ten minutes at a stretch at three dozen airports, and nothing for five minutes a pop in a hundred local TV “interviews” in three dozen media markets. Meanwhile, he spent $3 million buying airtime everywhere there was a vote: there were ad images of Bush-with-Reagan, Bush-with-soldiers, Bush-with-grandchildren, Bush-with-ocean, Bush-with-farmland, Bush-with-flags.
He wasn’t negative.
He didn’t need to be.
Super Tuesday was invented by southern Democrats as a grand and futile prophylaxis against a liberal nominee ... but the way it worked out (what a Good Godly stroke!) ... Super Tuesday was made for George Bush.
As it turned out, New Hampshire and South Carolina would restore (just in time!) Bush, Inc.’s, most successful rationale—inevitability.
As it turned out, that rationale was strongest when the campaign schedule threw together, on one day, so many contests, so widely dispersed, that no one could make (for more than a couple of hours) a concerted appeal to any set of voters in any one place.
As it turned out, Bush, Inc., was the only campaign with the reach and resources to play everywhere across the South. Super Tuesday was so vast and vacant of content, it rewarded pure movement and muscle—or at least the money to buy muscle ... everywhere at once.
As it turned out, Bush’s strongest opponents were beset in these same three weeks by dire self-inflicted woes: Bob Dole’s smart guys and Big Guys had eaten through the fortune he’d raised and were now busy eating one another in an orgy of press leaks and attempted coups. Pat Robertson was visited by revelations (of nuclear missiles in Cuba, and the exact location of U.S. hostages in Beirut) ... which the Reverend announced with some fanfare but, alas, could not begin to prove.
Bush alluded with mild derision to his rivals’ troubles—“unstable” was a word that popped out—but he didn’t have to name names. To him, their incapacities were evident, and the real and final rationale for his candidacy:
They shouldn’t be President.
To him, the noiseless, newsless operation of his white men and their hirelings, all across the South, was the confirmation of his bedrock faith:
This was his time—he was ready for this game, like no one else.
As it turned out, Bush, Inc., was blessed in these weeks with a candidate who was closer, each day, to the full flush of confidence ... uniquely able, by virtue of his resources and the inability of rivals, to project across one-third of the country, without static—almost without argument—a clear and faithful view of his own beliefs, the issues that informed his candidacy, the outlines of his possible Presidency ... his hope for the nation, which he meant to serve ...
Oh, the vision thing.
As it turned out, there was none.
At every stop, in every state, he shot for the safest common ground. Speeches ... well, he didn’t make many. Mostly he’d blow into a room and assure the crowd, with a grin:
“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna drop the full load on you ...”
Often, he’d bring up the word “change.” (Teeter’s numbers showed that voters wanted “change”—a good word, Teeter said.) But change, for Bush, turned out to be just a change of watch at the helm of the great ship. The point was to ... be ... th
e next President of the United States.
He’d like to “be ... the Education President.” But he wouldn’t want the federal government interfering in local schools (i.e., the only schools we have).
He’d like to “be ... the Follow-on President for Arms Control.” He was the first U.S. official to meet Gorbachev (at a funeral). But he would not affirm any fundamental difference between Gorbachev and his predecessors ... nor envision a shift in U.S. policy toward the Soviets ... a reevaluation of containment ... no.
He’d like to have a line-item veto ... the better to battle Congress over federal spending. But that would require a Constitutional amendment, which would take years (if it ever happened). Meantime, his plan to balance the budget ... was no plan.
He did repeat his vow not to fool around with taxes.
In fact, from the Super Tuesday evidence—local interviews (his only interviews)—Bush was not going to fool around with anything. From the evidence, he did not see anything to do.
Sure, there were U.S. factories closing ... the Reagan flood of guilt-free debt left a few million have-nots high and dry. “There’s some people still hurting,” Bush allowed. “Some jobs gone. But, generally speaking, a very successful President.” (Bush also referred to the Great Depression as “the thirties, when we had some economic difficulties.”)
One of the local anchormen asked: “What will distinguish a George Bush Presidency from ... from anything? What will be your place in history, if you have your choice?”
Bush said: “It’s hard to say at this juncture. But, I hope, peace.” Then, there was a pause, before Bush mentioned, for a second time, he’d like to be the Education President.
Mostly, he answered horse-race questions:
Was he going to win South Carolina?
“I will win South Carolina ...”
Would a win in South Carolina echo into Super Tuesday?
“It will have an effect ...”
Thank you, Mr. Vice President.
Curiously, the vacuity of George-Bush-winning was not discussed as character ... nor even Karacter. Maybe the Kops had spent themselves in the war of wimpdom. At any rate, the Karacter query on Bush was the Wimp Factor ... and no man is a wimp to the political press corps whilst he win.
So the dive of George Bush back into the bubble was discussed in the press as tactic—on which ground it was hard to fault. In these three weeks, Bush was appealing to Republicans across the South. He knew who they were—how they came to be Republicans.