Going Rogue: An American Life (64 page)

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Going Rogue

evidence for
any
kind of evolution

an avalanche of Bible

verses. But I needed the campaign to know

weren’t going

to

words in my mouth on this issue. I would go with them reasonably to a nuanced position, based on facts. But I wouldn’t parrot a politically correct line just because some voting bloc might get upset. And, by the way, I saw nothing wrong with students debating the merits of evolution in the classroom. F.

Buckiey-a devout Catholic and a world-class intellectual-could believe in the divine origin of man, why couldn’t I?

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The next morning, we drove to the McCains’ ranch in Sedona. The rose-colored morning was perfect, warm and dry. A rugged gravel road unrolled across the dusty hills, and I looked out the Suburban’s windows, wishing I could run the rest of the way. r d just left the coolness of Alaska’s vegetation, and here we

wound through desert

with cathedrals of soaring red rock

rising near forests of ponderosa pine. I craved stretching my legs on a long, hot run through what looked like the scene of an old
western movie.

The McCains’ ranch was upscale southwestern, a small compound with a scattering of guesthouses. They had pattly raised their kids there, and you could tell that; the place had a lived-in feel rather than the aura of some perfectly groomed, untouched retreat. We parked near the main house. John, sharp as usual in a button-down shirt and creased slacks, was waiting on the porch and greeted me warmly. We walked down across the lawn to comfortable chairs, close to a creek that ran through the property near a line of trees and boulders. I couldn’t take my eyes off the water, which seemed to flow red because of the famous Sedona rock.

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SARAH

PALIN

Some kind of hawk wheeled overhead, and John pointed it out, naming the genus and species. The creek gurgled nearby. I could see tiny lights strung in the trees, and fans to ptopel rhe cool creek air into the seating area.

“How do you feel about running for vice president?” John asked me.

“I’ll do whatever I can to help our counrry,” I said. We were both pretty excited, but he looked at me very seriously. “It would be tough on your family.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m sure ir is tough.” Though I knew it wouldn’t compare, I thought about how, in some ways, serving for years in local office had been even tougher than serving as governor. In local office you’re serving your friends and neighbors. That means you receive a lot of input, a lot of criticism. As mayor, 1’d had people calling me in the middle of the to complain about the neighbor’s dog barking and stopping by my house to tell me their property tax assessment was off by a few bucks. When I was governor, I heard a thousandfold more citizen concerns from people all across the state-but at least a lot of the complainants wrore letters instead of ringing up at all hours.

“My kids have grown up with it,” I said. “Working on the Slope, Todd’s always had an unconventional schedule. The family’s always been flexible and adaptable, and thar’s not unusual in Alaska. Ir works for us.”

“What does Todd think of all this?” John said.

“He’s very supportive, John. He wants us, and Alaska, to do all we can to help. We’re up to the challenge on this one.” Todd knew how much our state and our family had to contribure to the campaign and, if we were successful, to country. It

went beyond common sense conservarism and traditional values to the fact that’ we are everyday Americans. We know whar it’s

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