The New Founders

by Joseph F. Connor

  That left Murray. While he got along with everyone, he still tried to figure out where he stood in the grand scheme of things. Yes, he was the embodiment of James Madison and yes, he was told he had a lot of the same qualities and habits of the fourth president. But his role had yet to be defined and it gnawed at him. The car was quiet and he didn’t want to just blurt his concerns out, since it may be taken as disrespectful or even as jealousy. His quick wit came through and he thought of a way to break the ice.

  “Mr. President, should we call you Frank Walters now or continue to refer to you as George Washington?”

  The men let out a quick laugh but leaned in, awaiting an answer. Mr. Washington, in his ever accommodating fashion, told Murray that he could call him whatever name he was comfortable using. But in front of others not in the inner circle, he was Mr. Walters or Frank. He gave Murray the opening he needed.

  “You mind if I speak frankly? I’m concerned about where I stand in all of this, where I fit in to the grand plan Mr. Pepper has set out for us. I know it’s only been a couple of days, but a lot has happened since Friday. And I realize you respect my opinions or else I wouldn’t have been asked to accompany you. But I guess I need a little reassurance that I’m doing the right thing, leaving my wife and family for the time being, to play with a couple of strangers.”

  Mr. Washington adjusted himself in the seat to face Murray next to him. He assured him that he was vital to the team and that he was right, if he didn’t need him, he would not be there.

  “You are needed more than you could ever imagine. You may not see it now, but your presence will prove essential. Do not doubt yourself. You know in your gut what is true. And do not worry about your wife and child. Right now, you are home, with your brethren, and there is no other place you need be at this very moment. Remember Mr. Murray, it was neither Mr. Anders nor Mr. Pepper who planned this. We are but the vehicles of Providence.”

  Mr. Washington glanced to his right and noticed tourists lining up for a tour of a building with a sign in front. He read the sign aloud.

  “Holocaust Museum? Gentlemen, what is the Holocaust Museum? What was the Holocaust and why is there a museum honoring it?”

  Murray, understanding that the previous subject was now closed for discussion, described the horrors of World War II and how Adolf Hitler organized the mass murders of millions of Jews, Christians, and others in concentration and internment camps. The description of the atrocities horrified Mr. Washington. He cringed for the first time in front of his men as he soaked in the horrible facts. He motioned as if to speak, then remained silent, unable to find the words to express his feelings.

  The car inched forward, and in a few minutes, the museum was behind them and the river ahead. The cars stopped at the traffic light before the bridge and Mr. Washington once again looked out the window. Standing before them, below their plane of sight, and next to the riverbank, was the George Mason Memorial. On cue, Mr. Washington turned to Murray.

  “The George Mason Memorial. Mr. Murray, am I correct in assuming you are familiar with this great man?”

  Murray assured the president that he knew just about everything there was to know about the man, given the fact that he co-authored the Bill of Rights with James Madison.

  “I would have expected nothing less from you, Mr. Murray. Mr. Mason was a decent and honorable man. I am overjoyed to see that the men of modern times have so venerated him with a memorial.”

  The limousines now raced across the Potomac and into Virginia. Traffic had subsided going out of Washington, even though it remained bumper to bumper heading into the capital. Hahn mentioned that they were probably about twenty minutes from their destination. Mr. Washington asked Jenson about the book under his arm. Jenson told him that it was a condensed version of US history, which he picked up at the Lincoln Memorial gift shop. Mr. Washington asked if he could peruse it and the talk show host happily complied.

  George flipped pages as the car approached Mount Vernon. Jenson tapped the president on the shoulder and pointed to the signs for the Washington estate. The General closed the book and took in the sights.

  “Incredible,” thought George as he was taken back to his childhood, almost 300 years earlier. The greenery of his beloved Northern Virginia blurred past the limo. He closed his eyes and remembered a younger version of himself roaming the countryside with his favorite hound, retrieving the rabbits and birds he shot with his trusty musket. What a beautiful country Virginia was. As he opened his eyes to the new twenty-first century world, he still pictured old Virginia.

  George had the driver stop the car as he stepped out to gaze down upon the mighty Potomac. He breathed in the fresh air and realized that while America had changed in so many fantastic and sometimes dubious ways, his little part of the world retained some of its pristine charms. His three travel companions stepped out of the car with him.

  As if on cue, George swung his head to the sound of hooves rumbling quickly toward the car. A man and women rode by; she on a brown mare and he on a fine white stallion. George froze as the riders disappeared into the wooded trail.

  Noticing George’s reaction, Jenson offered a reassuring word.

  “Yes General, I am sure Anders or Pepper will find a fine horse for you to ride while we are here.”

  That promise brought a hearty smile to the General as he climbed back into the car for the remainder of the drive. Within minutes the car turned into a long, gated driveway.

  Five hundred feet in front of them stood a house that could best be described as a mansion. The new founders muttered to each other that if Pepper and Anders were involved, it figured that their next destination would be a mansion.

  The cars pulled up and the men exited. They stood in the circular driveway, looking up and around at the home and the grounds. The trunks popped open and they went for their bags. However, Mr. Washington did not.

  Instead, the first president began walking in the direction of the Potomac River, which was situated across the expansive side lawn roughly 250 feet from the house. Hahn dropped his bag and jogged toward Mr. Washington, falling in stride with him.

  “Where are you going, George?”

  The General responded that the grounds reminded him of his home and he wanted to get a look at the river up close before he returned to join the team. Within a minute, the men stood on the dock at the river’s edge.

  “Beautiful, simply beautiful. This estate is quite similar to my homestead. It is almost as if this part of nature has been untouched by modern man.” Pointing north, up the Potomac, the president continued. “If I had to hazard a guess, my plantation is only a mile or so, as the crow flies, along the river. Do you think we can walk the trail along the river one morning, Mr. Hahn?”

  Anthony put a hand on Mr. Washington’s broad shoulder and told him that it would be impossible as each tract of land between the spot they stood on and the Mt. Vernon Estate was privately owned. The last thing anybody needed was for George Washington to be arrested for trespassing.

  “I think we should get back to the others, Mr. President.”

  Chapter 17

  Anders waited at the back kitchen door, smoking his signature cigar, as the newest addition to the team parked his black BMW convertible on the gravel driveway behind the house. Anders had all but quit cigars in recent years, but given the remarkable turn of events and his desire to make a strong first impression, he thought the Cubans most appropriate.

  He had known this man since the Reagan years when Anders was the young buck of talk radio and his guest made a name for himself advancing the career of an ex-CIA Director from Maine. Neither man believed in small talk in these situations, so after a quick business-like handshake and brief review of the circumstances, Anders led Mr. Ken “The Builder” Rader to the dining area.

  While Anders had been around politics for most of the last forty years, a lot of what was transpiring was new to him. Neither he nor any members of the team had ever run a campaign, much less
the presidential campaign of a three hundred year old man with a fake ID. He knew, even with Pepper now fully on board, that they needed a professional campaign manager. The good news was that Anders knew all the right people and had gotten a tip that the vaunted Rader, campaign manager for one of the Republican candidates, had resigned his post the day before. This news would not be public for a day or two, so Anders jumped on the opportunity and got his man.

  Though Anders was a bit apprehensive that he had not discussed his new hire with Mr. Washington or the rest of the team, he knew he made the right decision and was excited to introduce “the Builder” to the men. Rader got his name from his reputation as an “Empire Builder.” Corporate types, entertainers, senators, and even presidents had brought Rader in to see their ambitions through to the next level. Rader always delivered and Anders could take no chances using someone else.

  This would be a very different assignment for Rader. Instead of leading the charge as the face to the campaign (as he was accustomed), he had been asked by Anders to keep a low profile, setting the strategies and working the candidate’s message. What concerned Rader was that although he was on board, having been promised seven figures for only a few months work, he had yet to meet the client.

  Since his spontaneous speech on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, the whole country was consumed by the unknown orator. William Fredericks had even dubbed him the “Lincoln Continental.” But he was still a stranger to the country and to the Builder. Ken understood that everybody knew of him, but no one knew his name. Rader looked forward to meeting the intriguing Continental that day.

  Anders opened the door, to find the team seated at a large round table. Rader noticed the impressively large white board and the rather short balding man writing on it. A tallish looking gentleman sat at the table surrounded by four empty seats. Books, papers and coffee cups were spread around the table while scattered iPads, iPhones, and BlackBerrys buzzed with life. With the election moving quickly towards them, the men were in their element, negotiating and sniping at each other as they worked to put an agenda together, all fully energized by the massive task at hand. Mr. Washington and Hahn stood in an adjacent room discussing the campaign as Pepper, Anders, and the Builder entered together.

  Jack Murray turned from the travel schedule he was drafting to face the three men. It took Murray all of two seconds to place the new face in the room, a man he had seen on television hundreds of times. Murray thought that if any more of these political big shots with giant egos entered the room, there would be no air for the rest of the team.

  Murray looked to the seated Jenson who returned a silent look of shock and anger. They read each others’ minds. What the hell was Anders doing now?

  None of that mattered to Anders who in grandiose fashion introduced the familiar looking gentleman.

  “I’d like to introduce you to our new campaign manager, none other than the Builder himself, Ken Rader.”

  Overhearing the introduction from the other room, Mr. Washington demanded of Hahn the name of the man just introduced. Hahn was caught flat footed by the Rader introduction and Mr. Washington’s question. Hahn didn’t like surprises, especially not in front of his new boss.

  Murray and Jenson watched in silent satisfaction as Hahn excused himself from Mr. Washington, hurried into the dining room, and demanded to know why Anders would bring in an outsider without consulting with Hahn or the team first. Hahn didn’t have to say it but he believed Anders was throwing his weight around.

  Mr. Washington quickly read the situation and demanded Anders explain why he had brought in an outsider without talking to him and the rest of the team first. Mr. Washington understood the need for a professional campaign manager but would not accept being excluded from such important decisions.

  Anders explained that Rader had just become available. He was the very best and had recently resigned from the former House Speaker’s presidential campaign. Before he was scooped up by one of the other campaigns, Anders had to pounce and contacted him that very morning. Anders explained proudly that he had seized the moment.

  “I understand Mr. Anders why you did what you did and I will not fault you for your efforts, for when a man does all he can, though it succeeds not well, blame not him that did it.”

  That being said, Mr. Washington needed to claim his authority right at that very moment. He insisted to Anders in no uncertain terms that while the decision may prove a good one, no one was to make any major decisions without Mr. Washington’s direct approval. And if he were not available, they were to go through Hahn. To make his point perfectly clear, he ended his lecture by dressing down the most popular radio talk show host in the land.

  “Do you understand me?”

  Murray enjoyed the moment but was surprised to see Mr. Washington defer ideas to Hahn without mention of the rest of the team. It was only then that he noticed the General looking in his direction.

  “Mr. Hahn, Jenson, Murray and Pepper, is that clear to you as well?”

  Murray did not like being spoken to like a child. He cringed at the notion but also realized that the first president was in fact an assertive leader who let his actions speak for themselves. That was the first time they felt the full strength of George Washington’s authority and it was clear that he was in control. No wonder we won the war, he thought.

  While the men slowly took their seats, Mr. Washington approached Rader. He stood before the Builder and, looking down on him, extended his hand.

  Though it was not directed at him, Rader felt the impact of Washington’s reprimand. During his career, he had been through presidential elections. He had been in the epicenter of scandal and the object of CEO and presidential scorn before, but he had never felt as intimidated as he did at that moment. He was in the presence of a man, the likes of whom he had never known.

  Rader extended his hand, looked into Mr. Walters’ eyes and guaranteed his best efforts to the Walters team.

  Mr. Washington noted Rader’s firm handshake and clear, direct eye contact. He welcomed him to the team.

  “Mr. Rader, I trust you will do a fine job.”

  Mr. Washington then left the room with Hahn. Murray and the rest of the team sat silently and digested the last few minutes. The remaining men in the room took a deep breath, fully aware why George Washington was the indispensable leader

  It was time to build a platform.

  Never one to remain silent for long, Rader immediately took the lead and described the Reaganesque belief that a presidential platform be built from multiple planks (rather than single issues within the overall platform). Murray and Jenson agreed with his philosophy of focusing on several but not too many intertwining issues. By not diluting the message, Rader believed they could present a cohesive overall strategy that would overwhelm and stifle the current administration. Murray thought in sports terms, whispering that the best defense is a good offense.

  Jenson expanded on Rader’s thoughts, reminding the new founders that during his Lincoln Memorial speech, George compared our society to a mighty ship being lifted by the rising tide of American success.

  “A rising ship. That would be a perfect theme for the campaign.”

  Murray was excited. He transported himself to the summer of 1776 and imagined the voice of Thomas Jefferson next to him. Jenson practically finished his thought when he said that the planks Rader mentioned could build their symbolic ship which would be buoyed by the wave of the American voter. And of course, the ship would be piloted by George Washington.

  Murray’s inner Madison showed through. He said that anything was possible in this country if the government stepped out of the way and allowed its citizens to use their tools to build it.

  Mr. Washington had just reentered the room and offered an elegant summary. “After the last four years of drifting in the shallows, we find the mighty ship of our nation being torn against the rocks of a low tide. But as we have proven as a people time and time again, anything is possible. So let us un
leash the force of the American people to rebuild our great ship, plank by plank.”

  He emphasized that the greatness of America would rise again and sail triumphantly on the tide of the uplifting spirit and success of each American.

  “In these United States, it is the strength and happiness of the individual that fills our sails, allowing our nation the safe navigation of these treacherous waters. Boys, I think we have our main themes. We each rise as individuals which elevates our society. We can refine them as we go. Now let’s nail down the planks.”

  The men dug right in. Anders forcefully argued that the planks should focus on the dire financial and economic issues facing our nation. For once, Hahn agreed with Josh, stressing that the financial issues were the most pressing problems facing the country. But even though he agreed with Anders, he still smarted from the perceived snub earlier in the day and assertively reminded Anders that financial issues were under his domain.

  “I, Anthony Hahn, will set the campaign’s economic policy.”

  Anders, not one to back down, calmly reminded Hahn that the men had made a pledge to their country and each other. While they did not all have to get along, they did have to put personal animosities aside for the greater goal.

  Mr. Washington allowed Anders and Hahn to complete their exchange before stepping in. Staring squarely at his young protégé Hahn, Mr. Washington chided the currency trader.

  “Complaints ill become those who are found to be the first aggressors.”

  He then reminded the team that while he expected to receive advice, Mr. Washington alone would set all policy.

  Both Hahn and Anders took this admonition to heart and while neither apologized, they stood down as Jenson filled the void by successfully arguing that the planks should consist of the principles most basic to our nation.

  Murray allowed himself to let go of Dottie for now and seize the moment. He was finally making a difference. Sure, he was dealing with a bunch of egomaniacs, but he knew from history that he intellectually and politically fit in with these guys. Suddenly, he was less Jack the history teacher and more James Madison the founder. He admitted to himself that it felt great to openly express his opinions without hesitation.