by Greg Sandora
I had driven the route into downtown Portland many times. Usually we’d get to the airport, fumble around for fifteen or twenty minutes waiting for the baggage handlers to bring our luggage. We’d always get that hopeful first piece and then wait for the rest. The ride into downtown normally takes about fifteen minutes because of the narrow one-lane roads that made up the drive. The city can’t widen the roads because everything was planned before the car, so the homes sit fairly close to the road.
Today, the entire ride would take less than five minutes, as the Portland Police closed off each intersecting rode along the route.
I remembered when I was young, Fritz Mondale came to our town to do a speech. I happened to be the first car stopped for a light on a side street. All of a sudden, a cop car pulled up and blocked the entire road, and then the officer jumped out and stood outside the vehicle. I could see across the street—another cop did the same and all the way down the road, side streets were being blocked from traffic heading for the main thoroughfare. It just seemed like the world stood still for what now I realize was about five minutes. You know how everything seems much longer when waiting at a traffic light, especially with a cop blocking your path and no way to know how long it’s going to be. Well, after a few minutes, along comes a motorcade with a big black limo heading into City Hall. I remember thinking, who is this guy that miles of road from the airport to the town center are just shut down for? I’d like to be that guy.
Kathy got right to her point. “Bob, who is in charge of the protection assigned to our girls?”
“I am,” he answered without hesitating.
“Then do me a favor, explain to me why we are traveling with all this while there are only three agents with our girls?”
Agent Bob started to explain, “We have sharpshooters stationed on nearby roofs ready, drivers, shields to walk along beside us…”
Kathy cut him off. “Jack, I think we need to bring the girls here with us, we can get them a tutor for the trip. I can stay with them in Alexandria after that. Either that, or I could fly back to get them myself.”
“I think you’re right! We need to have the girls with us.”
“Well, send the plane back for them then. I’ll call my cousin and tell her to pack some things.”
Bob started, “Sir, we’re really not prepared for a change in plans.”
The driver was blocked from view by a blackened glass divider but announced into Bob’s ear loud enough so we could hear, “Two minutes to arrival, sir.”
The press, the buses, Bud, Bill, Lisa, Daphne, and the rest of our crew were already at Portland City Hall waiting for us to arrive. The granite steps fronting the building were now the staging area for our kick off speech for the trip. I picked the setting for its downtown location just steps from a working waterfront mixed with restaurants and cobble stone streets. I would give a brief speech about unchecked greed, get the crowd stirred up, and then walk the few hundred yards to the scenic backdrop of the Old Port Area.
“Kathy, I told Daphne to tell the press to save their appetites for lunch in Camden. I thought we’d treat everybody to Chappy’s Chowder House.”
“Jack, turn this car around. I’m feeling like I want to go back and get the girls.”
“You heard the lady, Bob, back to the jetport.” I reached for my cell.
I knew what Kathy was doing; she was working on an angle, and I let her run with it.
“Sir, we have agents set up all through the downtown area ready for your arrival. The crowd has swelled to over five thousand.”
“Turn this car around, Bob!” Kathy said in a chillingly firm voice.
“Sir?”
“Bob, turn the fuck around.”
Bob was squirming in his seat.
Then to let him off the hook, I asked. “Honey, if Bob can take like fifteen guys off of this detail and run them down to stay by Veronica and the girls, would you be okay?”
“I guess I’d feel better.”
“Can you do that, Bob?” I asked.
Bob just nodded his head. His lips were tight against his teeth. Not many people have ever gotten past the two of us; Kathy and I had an unbreakable alliance, and we were a formidable team.
“How soon can you make it happen?” Kathy asked.
“As soon as we arrive, I’ll make the call.”
“Do it now, Bob,” Kathy wasn’t going to wait.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Bob spoke into a tiny clear mouthpiece at his cheek, “Get me command.”
Kathy turned to me and gave me the gentlest kiss, took a deep breath and then sat back in her seat.
“You know, Jack; it would’ve been nice to do something like Chappy’s for dinner.”
“I know, Honey, but it gets dark so early up here.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“Jack, I’m not so sure I’m loving having Lexi underfoot. I have to watch everything I say. Couldn’t you ask her to follow us in their own vehicle, at least to give us a little privacy between stops?”
Kathy got my attention; I’d been looking out the window at the scenery along Route One. The waterfront towns are so beautiful with their Main Streets lined with white New Englanders all seeming to have the same front porch style.
Bob looked over at me listening intently to hear my answer.
Lexi was up front going over some notes with her cameraman and producer but still close enough to hear the gist of the conversation. Cocking her head towards us, she lifted a hand to brush away some hair that had gently fallen into her face. Exposing her ear, I saw the big gold hoops I told her I liked.
“I’ll take care of it, Hon,” I said. “Listen up everybody. Once we get to Camden, everybody is off this bus. This isn’t working; no one can be on all the time and I need some downtime. Film all you want in between.”
When we arrived in Camden, I walked off the bus to the smell of the thick salt air. February is usually colder than this but we’d lucked out; today was fairly warm with no wind. We pulled into the town parking lots that sat just up a rise, one street back from the town square. From this vantage point, I could see part of the waterfront through spaces between the shops of the brick building-lined Main St. This is where we’d feed the crew. Chappy’s was happy to get the publicity. I told Daphne to leave a big tip; we don’t want to take advantage.
Lexi came quickly over to me, begging… “Jack, our van is filled with equipment, and there’s no room for the three of us to jam in there. Can’t you talk to Kathy, please, for me?”
“That’ll go over big, ‘Hey, Honey could one special reporter ride up front with us? She could sit on my lap, you don’t mind do ya?’”
“You’re making fun of me now?”
“Listen to yourself; I’m havin fun with you. Anyway, problem solved, I’ll have Bob find spots for you guys in the Secret Service Cars.”
Lexi was pouting, “I don’t want to ride with him I’ll die of boredom.” The little girl inside was finding her way out.
I had no choice but to ignore that, “Better yet tell that billionaire you work for to buy you guys a damn car in Rockport, or have one shipped up from Portland. That ought to be easy enough.”
“I’m not so sure I even like it here in Maine. I just wanted to be near you.”
I quickly changed the subject.
“Lexi, there’s this guy in Rockport who gave up corporate life in New York City. He lives in a converted barn right on the water up there. Believe me, it’s very basic. Upstairs is the living area, a big open loft with the walls covered in insulation and plastic. I saw it on a TV documentary a while back; he runs a sailing school year round. The bottom floor of the barn is filled with tiny two-person sailboats. He’s really making a go of it. I want you to try it.”
“You’re kidding me, what if I get wet… it’s winter. The water has to be freezing.”
“I’m gonna do it, Lex. The guy has suits people wear and even kids sail year round. You know, I bet I’d be happy living in a barn in Camden. I’d gr
ab a good book, a cup of coffee and just sit by the ocean.”
“I don’t know about that, Jack. It would be you sitting with your book. The secret service, the roof top sharp shooters, helicopters, cameras everywhere.”
“You’re right. Could you even believe the set up at City Hall.”
“No, they’ve pulled out all the stops, Jack; they’re not taking any chances.” Lucky for me, the little girl had retreated; grown up Lexi was back.
We had been having our conversation standing in the middle of this small town parking lot, flanked by Secret Service agents, and Bob, pretending not to listen. I thought, that’s gotta be tough, I’d probably crack up laughing hearing the exchange we just had.
“I’d still like to do it, though—just live in a small town, by the ocean,” I said.
Lexi was relentless. “Jack, what if just I ride with you, just me? I could sit way up front with the driver; my crew could follow in the van? There’s enough room for them all if they squeeze. At least until we could rent a car in Portland.”
“Just til you rent the car? Whatever. Hey, let’s walk down the hill and enjoy the seafood.”
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
We had arrived in Windham, Maine, the night before and figured we’d stop and sit tight so the troop traveling with us could get some breakfast in the morning. Our final destination was South Casco, just eleven more minutes up the road. I’d been there in the summer when the small town grocery and Dunkin Donuts had trouble handling a few extra tourists. I thought, this tribe would throw the whole little town out of whack.
Windham is a small town of about 19,000 and sits about twenty-five miles west of Portland. It’s unique in that it plays host to practically every fast food restaurant known to man. The town has its own Super Wal-Mart, a Home Depot and serves as a service center for the surrounding rural area. Unlike other Maine towns, Windham isn’t charming or quaint; it’s just a drive-through. At least it could handle our group without too much hassle.
The locals must have been surprised when fifty or so reporters walked into McDonalds this morning to get their coffee fix. We were traveling with some of the biggest names in television news, which I’m sure wasn’t going unnoticed.
Everybody was scrambling to rent anything even resembling a motel room for the rest of our stay. The Secret Service had taken rooms from Portland all the way up 302 to Bridgton, which besides Bar Harbor is my favorite Maine town.
We awoke to about an inch of snow, the mercury showing only a brisk 22 degrees. After a quick morning meeting, with everybody munching on Egg McMuffins, the group disbanded. I was enjoying a moment alone drinking my last few sips of coffee when Lexi popped onto the bus.
“Phew, it’s cold out this morning,” Lexi shook of the chill. Closing the door behind her, she climbed the ribbed rubber stairs to the main level.
“Jack, you must be a political genius.”
“I do my best, are you finally admitting it, Lex?”
“No, I’m serious, Jack; we did some ‘man on the street’ interviews following you around yesterday. We got some amazing material; I’m putting together a piece…”
“What’s the angle, you sound excited?”
“You’re obviously doing well everywhere, but you’ve had a sort of fanatical zeal with the people in the rural towns. Almost everyone we talked to outright professes love for you. Some are hurting so bad, and you’re the only hope they’ve got left.”
I shook a sugar packet then thought better of it and threw it back into the bowl.
“Lexi, do you think I should lose a few pounds, for the camera? The food on the road is lousy and I’m sure it’s fattening.”
“Jack, the cameras we have today don’t add weight like they used to. You don’t have to worry anyway. You look great on and off camera. Not to mention, you easily look ten years younger than you are.”
“I don’t think you’d tell me anyway. But getting back to your genius comment, to be honest, Lisa came up with the strategy. I only drove through the center of the state ‘cause I love it. There was no motive other than maybe getting my way.”
“Well your luck is legendary, then. There’s this one guy, I want to lead the piece with him. He said, ‘before Canon it felt like we were all marching toward failure in this country. Our jobs are gone and our money is heading overseas to buy foreign oil. Jack is going to change all that.’”
“I’d like to see the tape, Lexi. I can use some of it in my acceptance speech at the nomination.”
“Sure, Jack,. I’ll be working on it today. The piece has to be ready for Sunday night ahead of the primary on Tuesday.”
“The timing couldn’t be better. You’ll have the Griffin thing to scoop on Wednesday. Lex, I thought of a line you could use.”
“What is it?”
Speaking like a commentator, “Sources tell us Anne Griffin, once Canon’s number one rival, is joining the campaign as the vice presidential hopeful. She is sacrificing her ambition for the greater good of America, believing the two can forge a formidable team and break the gridlock in Washington.”
“Jack that’s good, I’ll use it.”
“I figured it does the job still playing to her massive ego.”
“You’re right. Are you okay with the ‘man on the street story’? I want your blessing.”
“Ya, do it. I don’t just like it, I love it.”
“Thanks, I’ll make you proud.”
“Hey, Lex, you’ll never guess what Bill said at the morning meeting today.”
“Tell me.”
“His son Steve, you’ve met him right?”
“Yes, Christmastime at your house. Remember the night you showed me the view of the stars from your patio?”
“I’ll never forget it… Steve had to come off Everest.”
“How come, Jack? He seemed so capable.”
“He never got acclimated at base camp.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, something about the altitude, he was up there for a month trying to get his body used to it. Bill said on one of the trial climbs he developed blood in his mucus.”
“Oh no, Jack, is he alright?”
“Steve told Bill he’s fine now, but altitude sickness is serious; they say if you push you can die. He felt really ill and decided to come off the mountain.”
“How is Bill taking the news? What did you say to him?”
“That I’d be proud of Steve. He had the courage to abort instead of possibly dying up there. A lot of guys would’ve pushed ahead regardless of the risk. I think that shows he has his ego in check.”
“What’s he going to do when he gets back to the states?”
“I told Bill I wanted Steve to come work for the campaign, that we could really use him.”
“That’s nice, Jack.”
“I had an ulterior motive. I’m going to have him work very closely with Lisa. I’m hoping they might hook up.”
“Jack, you are so funny,” then freshly, “maybe you could help me next.”
“Like you need it, Lexi, come on.”
“When do I ever get a chance to meet anyone following you around the country?”
I’d been in this conversation with Lisa. I quickly changed the subject, “Hey what do you think of Lisa for Press Secretary?”
“I’d sort of hoped you would have offered that to me.”
“Are you kidding, we need you on the outside. You’re a major news personality, and the scoops will make you a star. We need you to report our perspective.”
“Well, since you put it that way, I think Lisa would be perfect—especially with her new look.”
“Lexi, I always hoped you’d end up as the anchor of the CBS Evening News. It hasn’t been the same since they railroaded Dan Rather out of there.”
“I don’t think they’d let me out of my contract over at NIM, Jack. Plus, why CBS?”
I adjusted the shade of the bus to partially block the bright morning sun from my eyes.
“
That was the Colonel’s favorite; we grew up watching it. That’s probably why I always liked it best. It’s familiar and feels like home to me. We could get you out of your contract.”
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
I never thought I would want to hear Anne Griffin say anything. In fact, I used to cringe at the mere mention of her name. Now here I was standing on the side porch anxiously awaiting her arrival. I wanted to hear her say the words in front of America.
I had no reason to doubt. She was a good soldier that had kept her end of the bargain and then some. Since I couldn’t drill Barker on Iran, we had instructed the Griffin Camp to do it. Anne’s attack was relentless. If we were going to beat a sitting president, we had to show his weakness on foreign policy. Griffin pulled the negative ads off us and the results in for Maine were extraordinary. Everything was as we hoped or better, but still I wanted to see the check cashed.
Our people set up the side yard for the press conference using Sebago Lake as a backdrop. If this was to be the Summer White House, we wanted America to start getting used to the idea sooner rather than later. We expected Griffin would speak first and then I would say a few words about her selfless patriotism, sacrificing her ambition for the good of the country.
The press pool had been setting up jockeying for the best spots since dawn. I awakened to their rumbling, the only sounds over a frozen lake. Other than us, there were no signs of life except for a few ice-fishing houses set up for winter. Sebago is a summer destination and basically empties of inhabitants after the fall foliage.
This would be the icing on the cake. Going head to head into the convention against Griffin would have been like two eagles grabbing talons spinning towards the ground. The lady was a hard campaigner and a big believer in negative advertising. Better to have this attack dog on the end of our leash than us trying to step around her.
Still, I couldn’t help thinking, what if she doesn’t show? There are any of a dozen different scenarios where she decides to go to the end. Who knows what advice she’s getting last minute from all the hangers-on she’s carrying? It’s hard to keep an ego that size in check.