Purge on the Potomac

by Roberts, David Thomas;

  Sirens from all directions screamed as ambulances and police vehicles rushed to the scene in the gray fall morning. Before most people had had their first cups of coffee, America was about to be rocked to its core…

  Chapter 2

  “To die for an idea: it is unquestionably noble. But how much nobler it would be if men died for ideas that were true.”

  - H.L. Mencken

  (1880-1956) American Journalist, Editor, Essayist,

  Linguist, Lexicographer, and Critic

  With only a few months left in President Tyrell Johnson’s second term, a news flash came scrolling across every cable and network news organization at 11:26 a.m. Eastern time. The Senate had arrived at its decision in the president’s impeachment trial.

  The entire world had been mesmerized, both entertained and disgusted by the process. Many thought this entire trial was a black eye on the country, as Secretary of State Annabelle Bartlett was handily leading in the polls after an easy primary and, if elected, would surely pardon Johnson anyway.

  People stopped what they were doing to get in front of a television, on their smart phones, or anywhere they could to access live coverage of the final vote. The Senate, according to its constitutional authority, was required to take up the impeachment trial offered by the House.

  The Senate had chosen to conduct the impeachment trial behind closed doors with no live news coverage. The public, the press, and especially the network and cable news providers were livid, not so much because they were missing history, but because they were missing gargantuan ratings opportunities.

  Strangely, and at the outrage of the Republicans, the Senate had not required the president to be present during the reading of the verdict. After almost three weeks of testimony and sharp sniping between Democrats and Republicans, the verdict was to be read in absentia.

  To the most knowledgeable Beltway insiders, this fact told them everything they needed to know regarding the outcome.

  “President Tyrell Johnson, you are accused of multiple abuses of power resulting in the deaths of American citizens, issuing unconstitutional executive orders, obstruction of justice, contempt of Congress and various misdemeanors. Mr. President of the Senate, will you please read the verdict?” said the senate majority leader from the podium.

  It was common for the president of the Senate, who was actually the vice president of the United States, to be seated by the podium for an event of this magnitude; however, Vice President Doolittle had been busy on the floor of the Senate, maniacally whipping votes to acquit his boss.

  Members of the Senate and their staffs were under intense and incredible political pressure. The Democrats were using every advantage they could muster, threatening Republicans on other legislation, and occasionally threatening those in their own party who were inclined to vote against Johnson. Senators had come out of the Senate chamber looking as if they had either been without sleep for two days or had seen a ghost. The browbeating was as intense as it was effective.

  Doolittle slowly took a piece of paper from the majority leader and walked around the podium seated above the lectern, fully aware of the theater it provided.

  Despite the previous ban on live coverage, the Senate leadership allowed the press to cover this final aspect of the impeachment trial. They were obviously confident in what was about to be the penultimate moment.

  Opening the letter and adjusting his reading glasses, Doolittle looked down at the paper to take a second look, then looked above his reading glasses at the members in the chamber to hushed anticipation from the floor.

  Would this be the first time a U.S. president would be successfully convicted as the result of an impeachment proceeding?

  Nixon would have surely been convicted had he not resigned and received a full pardon from Gerald Ford. Clinton was able to dodge perjury charges about his many rendezvous with Monica Lewinsky in the White House and his subsequent lies under oath. During the Reconstruction Era, after the War for Southern Independence, President Andrew Johnson, whom most associate with impeachment, barely escaped being removed from office by one vote for refusing to follow an unconstitutional act passed by Congress―an act which, interestingly enough, was later overturned by the United States Supreme Court.

  Heightening the drama for this current trial was the fact that Johnson’s attorney general, Jamail Tibbs, the central lightning rod of the Texas Crisis, was successfully impeached and was facing sentencing for high crimes against the United States. Tibbs’ impeachment vote wasn’t close, but many expected Tibbs to be the main scapegoat for Johnson. Johnson was in the last few weeks of his second term, but the impeachment was being pressed by Texas and many southern conservatives in Congress for his role in authorizing military action against Texas without Congressional approval.

  Proponents of the impeachment needed sixty-seven Senate votes out of one hundred to convict Johnson. To provide cover for Democrats from the south, the leadership had passed rules to allow for a secret ballot to the vociferous outrage of the general public and the press.

  The Senate held its breath.

  “Mr. Majority Leader, the Senate has voted 66-34 to impeach. The impeachment does not pass. The president of the United States is acquitted of all charges, including high crimes against the country and all misdemeanors.”

  The Senate erupted into chaos, much like in 1868 when one senator from Alabama and one from Ohio actually traded punches on the Senate floor.

  Now the world’s attention suddenly shifted to Austin, Texas, where the Texas State Legislature sat in a special session called by Texas Governor Brahman. The legislature was scheduled to take up the referendum approved by Texas voters that called for a binding referendum to be voted on by their legislature for Texas independence.

  Chapter 3

  “History is the version of past events that people have decided to agree upon.”

  - Napoleon Bonaparte

  (1769-1821) French emperor

  Texas Governor Alvin “Smitty” Brahman called a special session of the legislature to consider the independence referendum that Texas voters passed in response to an armed incursion by the federal government.

  The session was specifically scheduled to coincide with the reading of the verdict in the impeachment trial of former President Tyrell Johnson.

  Now, with Johnson’s acquittal, the drama that was about to unfold in the Texas Capitol was palpable. Seemingly, every news agency in the world had cameras in the chamber and their lights were bathing the podium in front of the chamber.

  Governor Brahman, the slightly pudgy, former rice farmer from El Campo on the Texas coastal plains, strode to the podium with several aides, Lieutenant Governor Tommy Wilson, and Texas Rangers Commandant Pops Younger.

  Brahman pulled a short piece of paper from his pocket and put on a pair of glasses to read it. He stared out at the joint session of the Texas Legislature and the jam-packed gallery. There were so many reporters that the sergeant-at-arms made special provisions so all the news teams could be accommodated, with some uncharacteristically on the floor, roped off from the main body of the legislature.

  The large room fell silent as Governor Brahman cleared his throat to speak. The news had spread quickly about President Johnson’s acquittal, and most already knew.

  “President Tyrell Johnson, the same person who authorized hostile federal interdiction into Texas resulting in the deaths of so many Texans while they were simply exercising their God-given right of self-determination, has been acquitted of all charges,” Brahman stated matter-of-factly. “Ladies and gentlemen of the legislature and my fellow Texans, to say we are disappointed is a colossal understatement.”

  The joint Texas legislative session erupted into temporary chaos, including yelling, screaming and threatened fisticuffs, much like the chaos on the U.S. Senate floor just moments before, divided mostly by party lines.

  “Order. Order. Order!” yelled the Speaker of the House, swinging his huge gavel so hard many thought the he
avy mallet end would break off with each successive strike.

  “The citizens of Texas asked us to put their referendum before the legislature for a vote. I implored the legislature and my fellow Texans to allow the impeachment process to run its course. With this verdict, our disappointment in Congress and the Senate cannot be overstated. I warned the rest of the country, absent a conviction of the tyrants involved in the unconstitutional armed federal incursion into our state, that I would call a special session and the vote would proceed. Texas will be patient no more.”

  The governor stepped back to the microphone to drop one last devastating bomb to the audience.

  “The vote was 66-34, one vote shy of conviction,” said Brahman, visibly disgusted. “I’m horribly embarrassed as a Texan to inform you that sixteen Republican senators…” he paused, then continued, “…including our esteemed senior Texas Senator Kevin Simpson, voted against impeachment!”

  The legislature again erupted.

  “That turncoat son of a bitch!” screamed a state legislator from West Texas.

  “His vote was the deciding vote in determining President Johnson was not responsible for his crimes committed against Texas and the Constitution. Wherever you are, Senator, there will be hell to pay!” the governor promised.

  Suddenly, a chant rose up from the joint chamber…

  “Amanda! Amanda! Amanda!” The chorus became louder and louder.

  “Remember Chuck! Remember Amanda!” followed.

  Then suddenly came the chant, “1789, 1789, 1789!”

  The various news crews covering the legislature’s reaction to the impeachment proceedings were packed into the gallery above the legislature. Many of them were lost regarding the significance of the chants.

  Texas flags with 1789, some handwritten with black markers, appeared in the gallery above the floor of the legislature.

  When Homeland Security had been ordered to shut down the referendum vote, Amanda Flores, a University of Houston co-ed, fashioned a Lone Star flag with the letters 1789 hand-stitched on the white bar. Flores was attempting to cast her ballot on Texas independence at a downtown Houston Jewish Center polling place. She was shot and killed by federal Homeland Security troops while holding the flag.

  Chuck Dixon, a Texas business owner who was a Tea Party patriot organizer and whose arrest lit the fire that became the Texas Crisis, was a hero to everyday Texans. Dixon tried to save Flores but, when she was killed, he picked up the flag on a pole and waved it in the face of federal troops attempting to stop the vote on direct orders from the Johnson administration. The scene of Dixon shot dead, leaning up against a concrete planter with that flag furling in the wind, became the symbol that led to the impeachment hearings for Johnson.

  Brahman had demanded the impeachment of Johnson, Tibbs and others, promising that Texas was going to take up legislation that would begin the permanent separation process.

  “Tomorrow morning at 10:00, we will proceed with the will of the people. God bless Texas,” said Brahman as he stomped off the riser.

  When a CNN reporter stuck her microphone in front of Governor Brahman as he was being shuffled off the floor by Texas Rangers and Department of Public Safety officers, he halted.

  “Governor, what is your next step now that President Johnson has been acquitted?” asked the bleached blonde reporter with oversized Botox lips.

  “If the rest of the country thinks this is settled, I’ve got a message for America,” Brahman stated flatly.

  “What’s your message, sir? What do you want the rest of America to know?” she asked.

  “We hear you loud and clear. Has America gone mad? Is this really the will of the people? Congress is totally impotent. I am stunned at Congress’ willful dereliction of duty to bring President Johnson and his corrupt administration to justice. I’ll just leave it at that―for now,” he shouted.

  “Sir, sir, a few more questions!” she persisted as he headed for the rear of the chamber with his entourage. “Your own Texas senator, a Republican, voted for acquittal!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

  Brahman stopped in his tracks, despite the efforts of his security detail to hustle him out of the chamber. He turned around slowly and took a few steps back to the reporter.

  “History is full of people like Simpson. The question is, what was his quid pro quo for his vote? I don’t envy him when he returns to face his constituents,” Brahman snarled as he turned and walked out.

  She turned to the camera. “There you have it; the Texas governor has sent a message to the rest of America,” she said to the news anchor.

  The next morning, Texas had a decision to make that she hadn’t had to make since 1860.

  Chapter 4

  “It is very comforting to believe that leaders who do terrible things are, in fact, mad. That way, all we have to do is make sure we don’t put psychotics in high places and we’ve got the problem solved.”

  - Thomas Wolfe

  American Author (1900-1938)

  The demonstrations that filled the streets of places like Chicago and other major urban areas during the impeachment proceedings had turned violent. Fourteen law enforcement officers lost their lives at the hands of leftist radicals, anarchists and racial groups who claimed the impeachment hearings were racially motivated against President Johnson, who was an African-American.

  After the announcement of Johnson’s acquittal, those demonstrations turned into celebrations; however, the looting of businesses, the burning of police cruisers, and random shootings continued.

  Mayors and police chiefs across the country adopted a policy of non-aggression when it came to protests that turned violent, essentially ceding entire city districts to protesters so as not to provoke more violence. Politically correct stand-down instructions were the order of the day.

  Governor Brahman would have none of it, ordering Texas law enforcement officials not to stand down from the anarchist-type activities that typically followed these protests, instructing everyone who would listen that protestors who broke the law would be arrested immediately. Brahman’s orders would be tested over the next three nights in Dallas and Houston as hundreds of arrests were made, but there was none of the burning or looting seen in other major U.S. cities.

  With the impeachment hearings over, the media focused on Texas’ next move. Brahman had given the U.S. Congress an ultimatum to impeach Tibbs and Johnson or else, but only Tibbs was successfully impeached. Editorial staffs of major newspapers and political pundits were extremely critical of Brahman and displayed open editorial hostility to the reaction from the Texas Legislature.

  Senator Kevin Simpson’s offices in Austin and Washington were flooded with calls from outraged constituents, as well as from many non-Texans who called to vent their hostility.

  “It is important that our country begins to heal from the Texas Crisis. This administration is in its last months in office,” stated Senator Simpson, a sixty-four-year-old former prosecutor and attorney, on ABC’s Sunday talk show. “Soon we will go to the polls to elect a new president. I see nothing positive coming out of impeachment. I understand Texans’ frustration because I’m a Texan, but public polling shows the country is against the impeachment and, if we want any chance as Republicans to win in November, we have to put this chapter behind us.”

  “Senator, it would sound to many Texans like you are putting politics ahead of the administration of justice,” said the host.

  “Look, if it was a cut-and-dried case based on the evidence, the Senate would have convicted easily but, as you can see by the final vote, the facts were highly contested,” Simpson answered.

  “Well, sir, it wasn’t broadcast live so, to most Americans, it wasn’t obvious. The final vote had sixty-six in favor of impeachment, one vote short. Your vote, Senator… That’s sixty-six percent of your body that voted in the affirmative for impeachment,” was the host’s comeback.

  “The vote was…” said Simpson.

  “Senator, how will you dea
l with your constituents who, in a recently conducted poll among Texans, recorded an astonishing eighty-seven percent in favor of impeachment?” interrupted the host.

  “Well, sir, I have no idea of the validity of that poll…” stated Simpson before becoming visibly agitated that the host was starting another question before allowing him to answer the previous question.

  “It’s a reputable, national non-partisan pollster, as you are fully aware, Senator. In fact, you’ve quoted these folks’ polling data as recently as this year in several speeches you’ve conducted,” retorted the host.

  “Listen, I believe deep down that we just need to move on. The crisis was a horrible thing. The impeachment itself is another stain on our history. We have so much that needs to be done in healthcare, jobs, the economy and trade. The impeachment was becoming a sideshow. This president was at the end of his term. It’s likely the next president would pardon him anyway. We will have a new president in a matter of months, so why put the country through this?” said Simpson.

  “The administration of justice is a sideshow?” asked the host sarcastically, surprising Simpson, since this host was a typical liberal media type.

  Simpson’s face reddened against his light complexion and snow-white, short-cropped hair. He adjusted his red tie on his white collar, trying to pace himself carefully in his answers, as he knew all too well that his pale face betrayed his anger or excitement easily.

  “It is time for the country to move forward. It’s that simple,” he repeated.

  “But your constituents obviously believe differently. Is this a case where an elected representative knows more than his constituents?” asked the confident host, who now was feeling as if he had Simpson boxed in.

  Simpson paused, then replied, again measuring his words carefully, “The people elected me to do a job. This is a representative republic. My job is to represent them in the United States Senate to the best of my ability. Not every vote I make will resonate with every Texan. I’m elected to interpret and judge the various laws and issues that come before me. That is how a representative government functions.”